CHAPTER 17

  "all my life

  all my time

  oh it's got a price

  oh gonna pay for mine."

  -Filter

  Carl had six crime scene photos spread out before him. He rotated the small glass disk Jeff had given him slowly, studying every detail. These six were different from the other eighteen murders. The other eighteen had all happened inside the victims’ homes, locks picked, alarms disabled. No sign of forced entry. No witnesses. No cameras.

  Clean.

  These six, though… they were outside. Same area, roughly a year before the others. Maybe the killer’s starting point.

  That meant something.

  Either it was close to home, or somewhere he knew intimately. Six murders, zero witnesses, no cameras. He should find out what businesses were in the area, maybe the killer worked nearby. He didnt have much else to go on. That’s why Department 7 had taken the case. Most killers make mistakes starting out.

  Most aren’t this precise.

  This one was.

  A professional from the beginning.

  Carl frowned. How? Maybe he’d started even earlier, but Penny had run the databases. Other murders came close, but nothing matched. The few that did, the suspects had been caught, except one. Police standoff. Shot on the scene.

  “What do you see, Nano?” Carl asked.

  “I see precision,” Nano replied.

  “But also great anger. Look at the cuts. Each one starts neat, then he digs, tears savagely. Always left to right. Right-handed, most likely. The victims, all middle-aged women…”

  “There was one man,” Carl said.

  “Yes. But the pattern suggests personal conflict. Issues with a mother figure, or relationships gone wrong.”

  “You said "his". So you’re sure it’s a man?”

  “Judging by the depth of some of the cuts… yes. This person is stronger than your average woman.”

  “Could be a bodybuilder,” Carl muttered.

  “Possible,” Nano admitted,

  “but statistically unlikely.”

  Carl leaned back, scanning the photos again. His jaw tightened. Every detail mattered. Every pattern told a story.

  “Hmmm…let’s see what Penny’s got,” he said.

  “Maybe the three of us can put our heads together.”

  Penny was out. Back to the crime scenes. Carl couldnt look at the pictures or read the reports anymore. The brutality of it all rested behind his eyes and weighed a ton. He needed a palate cleanser. He grabbed the pack of weed cigarettes, now affectionately known as "weedarettes" by him and Steve, and went for a walk. Even the high potency stuff was weak compared to what he could get back in Missouri. The subtle relaxation and slight body buzz helped him focus though. Right now he had all these strange gruesome little details floating around in his brain. Sometimes a little air (and smoke) could make a world of difference. He walked along the road, lost in thought. So lost in thought that he found himself standing in front of Froggys, the nearby clothing store. He looked around, it had been like ten minutes, Froggys was three miles from the facility. How the fuck? He still held the butt of the weedarette he'd been smoking.

  It was cold.

  He couldnt ask Nano, because they had been separating more often when Carl wasn't jumping through rifts. After the Andy incident, he'd really started trying to be more careful. He shook another weedarette out and grumbled as he started walking back.

  He'd never been so lost in thought that he lost time before.

  Maybe it was time for a vacation.

  He laughed.

  His whole life was a vacation. A messy, painful, and sometimes bloody vacation, but it sure beats a nine to five.

  The facility was quiet when he returned. Matt was gone, the only member of the team to keep his former residence, he probably went home. Penny still wasnt back. Steve and Andy were working together on the rapist case, and Royles was always elusive. Probably in a meeting somewhere. He went back to his apartment, the pictures still lay where he had left them. Fuck, he couldnt look at them anymore.

  Too damn macabre.

  He swept them into the folder and closed it, the glass disk lay on the carpet. He picked it up. He had meant to show it to Matt. He could probably figure out what it was. Carl never took it to him though.

  It was his.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Not theirs.

  He had fought alongside Jeff, this was his token. Maybe he would share it, but not right now. His whole fucking life was laid bare to these people.

  This was just for him.

  He slid it into his pocket and sat on the couch. He picked up the controller and fired up his console. He needed to get his mind off everything and relax. He went to the fridge and grabbed a couple beers. He started heading to the couch. He looked at the very clean spot in the carpet next to his door. He turned around and put one of the beers back.

  Not that relaxed.

  The phone beeped, Carl swiped it open. Andy texted him.

  "Royles wants us to run some excursions tomorrow. Be ready at 10."

  He dropped the phone on the couch. The TV was playing some show called "Bertie's house". It reminded him of Everybody loves Raymond, right down to the goofy brother. He figured some sitcom premises must just work no matter the universe. He was catching some of the humor, but there were too many references to things he didnt understand or grow up with to really get into it. There was a knock on his door.

  "Its open!"

  Penny entered.

  "Hey."

  "Hey, get anything new?"

  "Maybe. I wwnt back and talked to some of the other neighbors. Two seperate people on different streets remember a red pickup parked on the street in the days around the murders. It could be something."

  "Yeah, do you guys have a database you can figure out how many red pickups there are in, like, a fifty mile radius?"

  "Already ran it. I did a hundred miles, theres two hundred and eighty seven."

  "Fuuuuck."

  "We need to bring that number down."

  "A hundred miles feels too big."

  "Well, I thought so at first, but this guy is good. I want to cast as wide a net as possible and narrow it down."

  "Okay, makes sense. Me and Nano have gone over the files exhaustively. The only thing that keeps sticking out to me is the first victim being male, and the first six being in the same area."

  "I agree. Ive gone over the male victims life with a fine toothed comb though. Lived alone, worked at the same place for thirty three years. He played pool and drank with his friends on Saturday at a local bar, Sundays he went fly fishing when it wasnt too cold. No enemies that I can find. He loved his job, his friends all say he was a sweet natured guy."

  "So what does that leave us with? A test victim?"

  "Maybe."

  "I have no idea how you do your job...theres so many maybes and what ifs!"

  "I like to think its about reading between the lines. Humans are basic, in my experience, it always leads back to sex or money."

  "Ok, so, our guy is single. Based on the killers track record, I dont think sex would be the reason. This guy had a decent nest egg saved up, but no one touched his money. That brings us back to square one. I thought serial killers were created by childhood trauma anyways. Can we look into this guy's past? Maybe he went to the same church as the killer and you know...diddled him or something. So our guy got his revenge, but realized he liked the killing."

  "Interesting theory. We can look into his past, that might turn up something. Just be careful about making too many assumptions. Try and let the facts guide you."

  "Hmm. Ok, Mrs. investigator."

  He smiled and winked at her. She gave him a tired smile in return. He could see the exhaustion he was feeling on her face as well.

  "I dont want to think about cut up bodies anymore. You wanna get something to eat? I find that sometimes when I have a problem, if I dont think about it, my subconscious will do a lot of the work for me."

  Penny sighed and kind of sunk into the couch, her whole body going slack.

  "You're right. I've been at it all day...and I am hungry."

  "Perfect! Wanna get something delivered and watch some TV or something? We can continue going over the case, but only after we eat."

  "Yes. There's a pizza place that delivers here. I've got the number in my phone."

  "Perfect. What do you want on your half?"

  Carl woke up with his stomach gurgling. Shouldn't have ordered the spicy pepperoni on his half of the pizza. He hit the button to turn off his phones alarm and sat up. They never did make much headway on the case last night. They both agreed the red truck could be something, but it was thin. He had an hour and a half before the next scheduled rift jump. He took a shower, dressed, slapped his D7 patch on his shoulder and went to work.

  Andy was already in the rift room, rearranging the contents of his medical bag.

  "You have any antacid in there?"

  Andy dug around and tossed him a little foil-pack with two tablets in it.

  "Thanks."

  "You ok?"

  "Yeah, some spicy pepperoni has my stomach grumbling at me."

  "Spicy pepp- that place, uh..."

  "Rigello's."

  "Yes! I love their pizza."

  "Yeah, it was really good."

  Andy checked his watch.

  "We got about fifteen minutes. I'm gonna hit the head, dont take off without me."

  "I wont."

  He headed out then stuck his head around the door.

  "Almost forgot, you're oxygen tank came in, it's in the corner."

  "Oh, Cool."

  Carl turned around, a small silver tank sat in the corner.

  "Ok, buddy, how do we make this work?"

  "Hold it to your back please."

  Carl's armor formed around him and he held it while nano wrapped bands of nanomaterial around it, holding it in place. It also connected to the valve.

  "We need to seperate for a moment Carl."

  The armor opened and Carl stepped forward out of the armor. The armor sealed itself and Carl could hear air hissing.

  "I think i have regulated the pressure so that it won’t cause pulmonary barotrauma. You should test it now."

  "What does that mean? Like, pop my lungs?"

  "No, Carl."

  "But it could hurt me?"

  "I will not allow that to happen."

  "Ok, Good to know."

  He stepped into the armor and the helmet sealed shut. There was a quiet hiss and Carl took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  "Seems fine to me."

  His helmet snapped back and he leaned against the wall to wait for Andy.

  Rift 8 was eerie.

  Carl landed and the first thing he noticed was the smell.

  It smelled like death.

  The rift was above an empty dirt field, there were obvious rows. A farmers field. He turned and looked around, he spotted the barn and house. A light was on in the upstairs window of the house.

  He started walking, he could fly but he was trying to figure out what was bothering him about this world. It felt cool, like a crisp fall day. It was June on the other side, the days were sunny and hot over there. Maybe seasons worked differently on different worlds. It was extremely overcast here, he didnt know what time it was here, but judging from the darkness, late evening.

  Carl shivered.

  It wasnt from the cold though. He had the heebie-jeebies. He approached the barn and opened the main door.

  The smell.

  The spicy pepperoni doing backflips in his stomach threatened to come up. He leaned down, hands on his knees, his helmet closed. When he stopped gagging, his visor switched to night vision.

  It was a nightmare in the barn.

  Dead, mutilated animals. Carl backed up and shut the door.

  "What the fuck?"

  He turned to go to the house, with the night-vision he could see the yard. Corpses lay about, human corpses. Some dessicated, some looked like animals had eaten on them.

  None looked that old.

  Whatever happened, it was recent.

  "I dont like this. What do you make of it?"

  "Look at the corpses in the yard again please."

  Carl focused on the bodies. Nano took control of his screen. It zoomed in on a bite mark on the arm of one of the bodies. Nano highlighted the bite to make it clear in the darkness.

  It was clearly a human bite mark.

  "Cannibals?"

  "Possibly. The state of the bodies indicate a wasting. Note the lack of bloat."

  "What does that...wait, zombies?"

  "I do not believe..."

  "Shhh."

  Carl moved quickly, his helmets eyes dimming, he hid behind the pickup truck in the driveway.

  A groan in the distance had alerted him.

  "Can you see anything?" Carl whispered.

  Again Nano took control of the visor, it zoomed and panned.

  "There!"

  A group of three shambled through the field, their bodies thin, their eyes unfocused.

  "Zombies...fuck."

  "Carl."

  The visor zoomed in again. The group were sniffing at the air, they were turning towards Carl.

  "We need cover."

  He ran up the steps to the front door. He looked back, the zombies were at the barn now.

  The door was open, he closed it behind him and slid the deadbolt closed. He ran down the hallway, trying to map the interior of the house. He found the back door, it was already locked. There was a basement, he went in and locked that door.

  "I say we wait, let them pass, then get the hell out of this world."

  "That is a sound plan Carl."

  He turned and walked down the stairs, his hand on the wall keeping him steady in the darkness. At the bottom he was unable to find the light switch. He looked up, it was a string hanging from the bulb. He pulled it and exclaimed as the light bloomed in his visor. His helmet snapped back, bright spots in his eyes.

  "I always do that..."

  "Carl, turn around slowly."

  Carl stiffened. He hadn't been paying attention. He heard it now.

  He slowly turned around.

  On her knees a woman was eating the flesh from a corpse on the floor.

  A blade slowly extended from under his wrist, he took one slow step toward her. Her head lifted and he stopped. She sniffed the air and spun around.

  "Oh, FUCK!"

  He didnt think, just reacted.

  The blade sliced through her neck, her head rolling into the corner, the mouth still moving up and down.

  The body continued standing, as if it didnt know it was dead. Carl kicked it in the stomach, expecting it to fly across the room, away from him. What actually happened was his foot and part of his leg went through the corpse. He stomped on the ground but it was stuck on his leg.

  "I HATE THIS WORLD!"

  "Calm down Carl. Yelling will draw more of the infected to the house."

  "You're right, shit...this is fucking gross."

  He used the blade to cut it off his leg, the squelching as he cut, made him gag in the helmet again.

  Now that the threat was dealt with (its mouth still working in the corner) he looked around. The basement was a prepper's dream. Rows and rows of canned goods, jars of pickled things and bottled water. Along the opposite wall was a mini armory. Rifles, shotguns, pistols...just like the ones on Carls world.

  He smiled in the helmet.

  "Ok, now we're talking!"