By the time they arrived, there were fifteen dead bodies laying in the road and on the lawns up and down the street. Jay maneuvered the truck around them and it looked like a massacre had taken place.
She forced herself out of the truck and walked with Ray as he described what had happened. She felt the pressure in her eyes signaling sleep and crouched beside a dead woman who laid on the neighbor's front lawn. She studied the wounds on her head, one through the cheek and one through the forehead. Bits and pieces of the woman's brain and skull and hair had scattered across the green grass. The entire place was starting to smell and the flies were swarming. The heat felt fantastic on her feverish skin.
She took a seat, crying on the curb and waited for some form of authority to arrive and ask a million more questions of her and then of Ray. She smoked a cigarette and she cried and she waited through exhaustion. She had officially hit the 26 hour mark and before long, she'd start hallucinating if she didn't have caffeine or a shot of adrenaline. Adrenaline kept her moving during the early days when she was on her own and alone. No partner and no one to lean on, she had no choice but to stay awake and protect herself. She peered across the street at Jesslyn's house. The movement inside there was not normal. The curtain over the closed front door signaled an issue was afoot. A low thump against the door had her heart sinking inside and her heart rate picked up some. No, no, no...she thought as the door thumped and the curtain moved. Louann would turn a knob and open a door. Louann would be able to open a door, not repeatedly walk into it.
"Julia," Chess called to her from the yard and he stood with local officers. "Hey, Julia."
"What?" She asked as he came over to her and stood above her looking worn out.
"Wanna come explain to the cops what you told Ray?"
"No." She replied. "Can't they set up a perimeter and call someone else?" She looked back at the door across the street as Chess held out a hand to her. Whether she wanted to do it or not, the local PD wanted answers. She accepted the hand and he pulled her to tired feet. "See that?" She asked, her eyes darting to Jess's front door. "Wanna handle that or should I?" She glanced to the officers on the Morgan's sidewalk. "Maybe they should?" She suggested as she approached them. She answered questions with one word answers, yes and no only. It is not illegal to shoot something that is already dead...Julia felt like telling them. Which laws were broken specifically, she was unsure. Where they had come from was uncertain as she mentioned that there was a specific house that concerned her across the street. The officers had issue with Julia and Chess as they stood in front of them in blood stained clothing that had dried. They had been updated with reports on Philadelphia. Julia and Chess admitted they were present and involved and then had to provide proof that they owned and were allowed to carry the guns they had on them. Julia and Chess both were allowed to retrieve their documentation from the truck and as the weapons were inspected, it was clear neither weapon had been fired recently.
"I'm gonna call Cook." Chess said to her.
"Please," Julia said as the cops made them stay against the patrol car, legs spread and hands in clear vision on the trunk.
The officers cuffed them and Chess urged her to stop complaining and keep her mouth shut. "Listen to your husband, honey." The officer said sarcastically as he opened the rear door of the patrol car and indicated they should sit inside while they moved on to the house across the street. It was clear that the person inside was in some distress as the thumping and banging against the door was audible from their standpoint.
"Ray shot all of them, but we're in the cop car." She muttered as she leaned to get a better view of the officers as they approached Jess's house. Chess sat quietly next to her, not enjoying the feel of cuffs against his wrists. "Awe, husband, you get used to it." She mumbled.
"They're gonna get fucking bit." Chess mentioned as he tried getting his hands out of his cuffs.
"Chess, there is a key. Someone will unlock us."
"They better not search my truck." He said as he looked at his bullet ridden vehicle Jay had parked in the driveway.
"Why?"
"There's coke in it."
"Oh," She squirreled up her face at him. "Could use some right now. I'm fuckin beat." Julia nudged him as the cop kicked at Jesslyn's front door. "Here we go." She said, trying to get a better view. She strained her neck to see Jess's mom fly through the opened front door and fling herself at the cop who had only gone to investigate. As he was mauled by Jess's turned mom, he struggled successfully to get to his feet and away from the woman who appeared crazed and disturbed. They emptied their guns into the woman who would not stop coming toward them, and being trained to shoot for the chest, their bullets pierced a heart that lacked a beat. Not one head shot between the two of them and all the bullets did was knock her back and then down only for a moment before Louann rose again from the ground on unsteady legs and lunged toward them.
"Shit." Chess complained as he and Julia sat in a patrol car and watched the gruesome scene unfold. Out of ammo, the cops retreated toward the patrol car. The uninjured officer assisted the injured officer down the street, holding him up and moving along faster than Louann could move, but not very fast. As the uninjured officer struggled along beneath the weight of his partner, his partner chose that moment to make the turn from rational, thinking and alive, to irrational, unthinking and dead. His strength regained and the live officer was struggling beneath the weight of his partner to avoid taking the very same bites that he had avoided from Louann.
Tavin Keller stepped in at that point and used his knife to extinguish the life of the dead and turned officer, freeing the partner and rescuing him from the clutches of death. Tavin moved on down the block a ways to meet Louann and then plunged the knife to its grip into the skull of Jesslyn's mother. Once her life faded, he lowered her to the ground and off the street. She watched Tavin as he talked back and forth with the officer he'd assisted. He stood with him, explained this very confusing situation, their even more confusing night in the city of brotherly love and then took Julia's barely charged cell phone from the hood of the patrol car. He opened the rear door and looked him dead in his eyes. "Who the fuck do I call?" He asked seriously.
"The pizza shop." Chess said for her. "Call the contact listed under pizza shop."
Tavin scrolled through the contact list. "I am sick of this shit." He cursed as he closed them inside the patrol car and walked away with her cell up to his ear.
They were the last words Julia heard. She leaned her head against Chess's shoulder and passed out as they waited on a resolution. He allowed her the luxury of nodding off, then once she was out for sure, he leaned as far as he could toward the opposite side of the patrol car and left her drooling away from him. It was 110 degrees or worse in the back of that car and she made it worse with her skin on him. He definitely didn't miss that about his girl.
He relaxed as best he could as he melted in the rear of the car, sweating bullets in part because of the heat and in part because of the anxiety as his truck sat across from him with years worth of prison time in its floor board. He thought himself a hearty character and he believed himself to be a strong motherfucker, but the heat was killing him. He felt like a dog left in a car at the local Walmart and he was cooking. He got his brother's attention and then had him get the cop's attention and demanded that they put the window down or put on the AC or park in the shade. He couldn't take the heat for one more minute. Julia was turning bright red and the sweat dripped off her like a faucet.
"Is she Ok?" Ray asked, looking directly past his twin and to Julia.
"It's fucking hot, Ray."
As Chess baked in the heat, he got angry. Considering he had nothing to do with any of the actions his brother took that afternoon and Julia had, he couldn't help but wonder why he was sitting there cuffed and sweating instead of Ray. The cop was instructed to leave both Morgans go as more patrolmen arrived to the scene. They were instructed to set up a crime scene area and then wait. Until then no one was permitted to come or go. Chess stepped out of the car and tried waking Julia, but she wasn't responding to much of anything at that point, because of all the snoring. Julia Morgan was a quiet sleeper. Fry on the other hand, slept noisy and most nights along side the tiny girl he had a silent race with her to see who could fall asleep first. There were several occasions he had got up from the bed and slept in the family area of the fortress to get away from her snoring. He had never let her in on that, the fact she snored and rumbled like someone with sleep apnea, so he'd usually say he was the one who couldn't sleep and he was the one who had been up late and fell asleep on an old sofa resurrected from the teacher's lounge.
"Jay, she's all yours."
"She snores something awful anymore." Jay said, retrieving her from the opposite side of the car and making her rouse from a deep sleep. Jay swore she was still knocked out as he walked her to the house. He made her take a cold shower where she woke for only a short time once the cold water hit her. Her body felt like it was on fire and he had to get used to the temperature and not get concerned every time she felt feverish. The cool water in the shower, he could barely tolerate as he washed her and suds formed in her long hair. She fought with him about brushing the hair like a little kid and decided to let her fall back into a sleep coma and then have his way the long red locks. She would be more compliant and allow him to brush the knots out then. Once she smelled good and was clean he took her down the basement dressed in an old pair of shorts and a tee shirt where he tucked her on the couch and went to work with damp hair, brushing it out into a veil that hanged over the end of the x-box sofa. He then put it all up in a tail and left her alone before he could even get into the hot shower he wanted so much.
He preferred heat to cold and it felt fantastic on his muscles. He took a quick shower, because there were two more people in line for that shower. He unbraided the mess of hair that was on his own head and scrubbed it with shampoo twice. His head looked ridiculous by the time he could see clearly in a mirror, hair unbraided and straight, no length to it and crookedly hanging in one length over his face and ears. "Worried about her damn hair, look at mine." As he took to trying to re-braid the hair himself, he said fuck it and he tied up a pony tail atop his head. He then went about shaving the back and sides till his scalp was buzzed, which left him with top hair that he snipped at the ends and evened up. He pulled that back into a couple more manageable braids and called it a night.
He left his brother and cousins deal with the police and the police crime scene and the tape and their questions. He had nothing to do with that. As long as Julia was not involved anymore, he could get away from the drama that ensued and then get away from the mourning that ensued surrounding the death of Louann. He'd spent his time with Jess, holding her and watching her cry after she'd found out that her mother had turned and then been put down by Tavin. They had told her as few details as they could, only that Louann was at peace and then let Jay console her, because he was great at consoling people. Not that he had wanted to do it, but Tavin was too angry and considering Chess and Julia were locked in the rear of a patrol car at that time, there wasn't much else for him to do. This is where Julia Fry would have been able to step in and offer some words, make sense of it all where he could not. He had spent so many years on and off dealing with the dead and the fall out from the dead that he was as tired and fed up with it as the others. Not Julia, though. She thrived on the madness. She had no struggle and no fear when she cut through the heavily infected area of Kensington. She worked through it with ease and with a grace and calm that not many others had. She had spent an incomparable amount of time honing a skill, fine tuning the art of the second death. She had learned when to utilize a knife and when to utilize a gun. She had experience that qualified her as an expert, no longer self professed. He had witnessed the finesse with which she handled herself and her weapon. She led them, designating each of them a job to do and she led by example. She was determined and people naturally followed her, because she knew what she was doing and she encouraged that in others.
As he lay on the floor, head on a pillow from the sofa and a blanket from the basement closet, he thought about their night. The more he went through it in his mind, reflecting on the death, then the fight against that death, he wondered a moment how she knew it was happening. How did she and Chess know when to leave and where to go? Had someone informed them or had Jody called? Obviously this was the day that Kevin made his way to hell, but how did they know the rest would play out as it did? All these thoughts hastened falling asleep. He was willing to walk alongside her this time. He was ready to do what she wanted. He didn't fancy going too far away or leaving the family that he had spent so long taking care of. That night in Kensington, though, exterminating the dead like stomping on cockroaches on the streets of Killadelphia, he saw the world from Julia's point of view. He saw what she had lived on the flipside. He observed and participated in a smaller version of events. It was the worst interaction with the dead he had ever had and he had interacted plenty. Only to find out that New Jersey was worse. The clearing-kill, shelter, expand, repeat...kill, shelter, expand, repeat-she had asked him to leave and do that with her, set up all those shelters and help all those people. He declined and hindsight was 20/20 because now he regretted ever sending her out there on her own. She survived, but he could have been more helpful, more agreeable and a better friend and boyfriend. He watched her achieve on the flipside and he watched her try to destroy herself in reality. Which way was up? Which place was real and did any of it truly matter? All he thought that mattered was the way they worked from that day forward, grateful for every moment the universe had given him with her. A chance to try again and do it right. He would follow her to the end of the earth and back if she asked. Why he didn't beforehand haunted him.
He lay, waiting for sleep as tired as he had ever been. He turned on the TV, turned on Netflix and scrolled through the menu, listening to her snore like a buzz saw. He rolled his eyes and reminded himself to be patient because this Julia snored and he couldn't escape that if he tried. Normally he fell asleep first or they even rotated sleep schedules with her being awake all night. She'd amp herself up on caffeinated beverages to stay up late, having a personality that despised the daylight hours inside a body with an internal alarm that sounded at 4am. As he settled on a movie to watch he gave her body a nice shove and turned her on her side and she quieted with the snoring awhile only to start farting, which was also strange. Julia rarely farted in front of anyone and rarely farted while asleep, and she swore it had to do with the infection. The girl's body that lay on the sofa above him, she farted all the time. Her predecessor would say "Oh, I tooted" or "Oh, no...I'm tooting." or "Oh, I gotta toot." She was obsessed with calling it tooting. His girl hated farts, especially if she was the perpetrator. And anyone who farted needed to apologize immediately because it offended her. He'd become so used to both the Julia's that none of their personality traits unnerved him. He lived with it and understood it and tried not to complain about it.
Chess and Ray spent the afternoon and evening in the street. He got a call from Shelby at first and he refused to talk with her or entertain anything that liaison had to say. A short while later, Cook called and she instructed him to deal with Shelby from then on. She informed him that a team wouldn't be able to get out there to deal with anything till at least morning, perhaps later than that.
"And what's up?"
"I need a favor. Strictly as someone who knows how to do what needs to be done. Nothing more and nothing less."
"So we're clear, you'd like me to drag these bodies into the middle of the street and set them on fire."
"Or call the fucking coroner, Morgan, strict biohazard procedure similar to Ebola virus. Any morgue can-"
"I know one of these people. I have her daughter in my house now."
"The girl you got pregnant while you were telling me how much you love me. That girl?" She yelled through the phone at him.
"Cook, this isn't the time for that discussion and it was a discussion you didn't want to have."
"This is why I want you to deal with Shelby Reagan."
"Cook, this isn't my damn job anymore." Chess stated calmly, but he felt like he'd be working for the next few hours.
"I'm stretched super thin right now. This is something you have been trained to do. It's not rocket science." She yelled at him through the phone. "I would owe you one."
"If I didn't love you so much, I would say no. If you owe me one, then you know what I want."
"Sex."
"Won't turn it down, but I was thinking more along the lines of freedom. I want the contracts torn up and thrown away. Mine and Julia's."
"Yours."
"Julia led that little movement they're cleaning up right now. She motivated those people and the streets were cleared over night in time for your people to get there. What we did allowed fire crews and emergency response to get to the scene."
"They're in the middle of a full scale riot, Morgan."
"The living, the rioting, that we cannot control."
"Let me make a call. I'll get back to you."
Chess looked at his brother and then Tavin who had stepped outside to see what on earth they were doing. "So, what's up?"
He could see Jess standing on the porch, watching the flurry of activity around them. "I don't need to talk with Jess." He said seriously. Chess hated every second of the emotional display that played out for him. Julia was knocked out. Jay had done his part, comforting and consoling as only he could. "I mean I can't deal with her right now." He delegated Jess to Ray, having him escort her back in the house to their mother who drank a bottle of wine and regretted not being able to share it with the girl who mourned the loss of her mother.
His cell rang and he answered it. "Morgan, you wish to reenlist?" A man's voice asked.
"No, I do not." Chess answered. "There are no circumstances under which I would reenlist." He stated firmly. "A member of your team reached out and asked for a favor. I will oblige her as long as the condition I requested is met."
"Yes, it will be met. Carry on and generate a report. I'll forward you the email."
"Yes, Sir. Please advise the local authorities to whom they answer from here on out."
"I'm on it. Thanks. Say hello to the wife, Morgan."
The call ended and Chess refocused as the officer in command of the scene approached. "Chester Morgan. Officer Swigget. Wanna tell me how and why you're qualified to take control of the scene?"
"No." He replied with an air of cockiness that he hadn't felt in a long time. "Get me the M.E. on the phone, please."
"He said he's not taking these bodies. The virus here is-"
"Get me the medical examiner on the phone. I will need death certificates for each one of these individuals. I assume you have located their families and have identifications, Officer Swigget?"
Chess spent a half hour on the phone arguing with medical examiners from two counties. He walked back and forth on the block and he explained this biohazard that he had on his hands. Neither examiner was willing to take bodies of the infected off his hands despite the fact they had a moral and legal obligation to do so. Finally he had the brilliant idea to suggest he only needed death certificates since the families could I.D. the bodies and the majority of these dead had their families present and accounted for. One woman had been transported to Mav General with chest pain due to the shock of seeing her husband with bullet holes in him. He was met with a resounding 'no' in response. He paced the street. He had no clue what to do short of gathering these bodies into a pile and burning them up.
He hung up the phone and then paced when Tavin approached him. "What's up?"
"I need these people ID'd, pronounced, and provided death certificates. That's what's up." Chess was pissed.
"I can pronounce them. The M.E. can defer the case and then the disposal is up to you. Which M.E. is it?"
"Redondo." Chess answered.
Tavin pulled his cell and dialed the M.E's office and asked to speak with the medical examiner. He had a list of people generated by Officer Swigget with pertinent information and then spoke with him like he spoke to him all the time.
"I do speak to him all the time." Tavin replied, lighting a cigarette. He was tired, but he had an idea that this evening was only the beginning for him. He rattled off the names on the list, the manner of death was simple...gun shot wound to the head for each and every one of them, except for Louann and the cop whose heads were split open. "Ok, so now we need death certificates and someone to sign them."
Chess and Tavin sat smoking on the bus stop bench while Tavin made another phone call to a friend who could drum up some death certificates. "Carrie, hey sexy, how are you? What's doing? You at work?" He said, voice smooth and soft enough for Chess to notice a difference to his inflection. "Yeah, I need a favor. Can you help me out on your way home?" He waited while the girl named Carrie answered him. "Oh, I can help you out too. Not tonight, well," He looked to Chess and thought a moment. "Well, yeah, I'm not home. I'm over my cousin's place. I don't think they'd care...hold on." He looked at Chess. "Can I have company?" He asked as serious as he had ever been with Chess.
"This is a matter of national security, so I think it's safe to say yes, Tavin. When you're done, you can leave, how's that?" Chess replied in awe that only he could hook up with a girl in the fall out from a mass shooting and stabbing. "Can we move this along?" He asked, sounding reminiscent of Tavin himself.
"Gonna need 15 death certificates and a signature. This is national security, top secret shit right here, Carrie." He told her. "Ok, see you soon." He ended the call and he and Chess sat on the bus stop till Carrie showed up a half hour later with the death certificates and her pen. She parked her jeep circa 1970's completely overhauled cosmetically and under the hood. A sleek black, manual jeep with no doors and a system that blared music, emphasis on the bass.
Carrie stepped out of this jeep and he couldn't decide which he enjoyed looking over more, the ride or the girl. Long and flowing brown hair with matching brown eyes. She had a deep natural tan and not one obtained under tanning bed lamps. She was covered, arms and legs in black tattoos, delicate and intricate tribal designs that all connected somewhere beneath her clothes. She looked fine in short khaki shorts and a silky tank that exposed enough skin, but left everything to the imagination. A tall and striking woman, he looked up at her and her pretty smile, pink glossy lips and the perfect smoky eye make up. She stood in front of him looking like a model out of an ink magazine.
"Hello, I'm Carrie." She said, holding back from shaking Chess's hand, because Chess was a dirty and blood stained mess.
"Hello." Chess said back to her as the three walked along the street so she could observe what she was adding her signature to. "They are all deceased."
"Obviously." She responded coolly as she stepped nearer the dead bodies to get a better look. She was completely comfortable with trauma related injury and gun shot wounds, missing skulls and the blood and brain matter that speckled the street around each victim. She crouched near Louann's body, the only one covered with a sheet and she knew enough not to disturb the body as it lay. She moved a little, observing the skull as it had been cracked nearly in half from a knife wound. "Ouch," She said, her voice a little too excited for the normal bystander. She stood again and she took in her surroundings, inside police tape and under flood lights. She saw no civilians. "I will admit this is cool as fuck." She said to Tavin.
"What do you do for a living, Carrie?" Chess asked curiously as she seemed completely at ease. "This is so morbid and you seem very comfortable standing in the middle of it."
"Registered nurse." She replied. She walked ahead toward the last victim closest to the house and Chess spotted the eagle across her back with a wingspan that reached shoulder to shoulder.
"Army medic." Tavin said quietly. Carrie enlisted right out of high school and had gone to nursing school out of the army. "She's seen worse than this."
"I have the death certificates. Is this legal?" She interrupted them, holding a manila envelope in her hands. "My signature is going on these, you know."
"Yes, it is." Chess assured her, but he really had no idea. He doubted it would be an issue as he led her to the house and Tavin escorted her inside with the death certificates and her pen. He also carried the list of individual names. Carrie would fill out all fifteen certificates and deliver them to Chess's hands as soon as she finished.
"Who's taking all these bodies, Morgan?" Officer Swigget asked as he stood on the outside of the yellow tape.
"Not the M.E." Chess answered. "I need someone who won't mind cremating them." So I won't have to do it...he thought. He wasn't up for a middle of the night crematorium in his street or his back yard. "Burying them is not an option and I doubt a funeral home would be interested in this if the M.E. refused to take them."
"Uncle Dom." Officer Swigget announced. He reached in his pocket and pulled his wallet. He rummaged through business cards and personal cards and I.D. till he found a piece of paper that had a number hand written on it. The name above the number simply said Uncle Dom.
"Who the fuck is Uncle Dom, Swigget?"
"He handled the last pile of bodies about a year ago. He's the man you call."
"Legit?" He asked with a tired expression.
"Do you care?"
"Yes, actually. I do care."
Chess walked off the crime scene and dialed the number on the paper.
"Dominic Manganelli Funeral and Crematory services." A woman's professional and droning voice said into his ear. He wasn't sure if it was a recording or a live woman that's how dreadful her voice sounded at midnight. Chess asked specifically to speak with Uncle Dom. He explained the situation was national security and level 4 biohazard to the rep on the phone. Any more information would be communicated with Dom personally.
"We have another situation." Uncle Dom said bluntly in Chess's ear. "How many? Where ya at, son?"
Chess provided his full name and location of the situation.
"800$ a burn. I'll need all the information for all the families and death certificates. Got death certificates? Gotta gather my supplies and my boys and we'll be there."
"Done and done." Chess answered.
Uncle Dom liked organization and Chess was organized. He conferred with Swigget who was still in command of the scene despite his shift ending more than 8 hours prior to that. "Gonna be a long night, Swigget." He commented as he walked off to his house.
"I'm well into my third shift, Morgan."
"So am I." Chess responded dryly and he found Tavin and Carrie inside the house filling out the last few death certificates. "Thanks, Carrie." Chess asked politely as he moved onward toward the bathroom. He got a quick shower and went out back to smoke a joint, then thought better of it. Was he on duty? Am I on duty? He opted for a regular smoke and a soda and contemplated waking Julia for this ordeal. She would enjoy this as much as Carrie had enjoyed touring the dead bodies and their wounds on the pavement out front.
While he stood outside making friends with Officer Swigget, his cell rang. Unknown number, he answered the phone, thinking it was Uncle Dom on a different number or his cell. When he answered he heard the same male voice who had spoken with earlier in regards to this incident.
"Morgan, there's another incident in a place called-" Chess heard the shuffling of papers and voices in the background. "Ephrata. That is close to you."
"Yes, Sir, it is." He answered. "I'm dealing with this for the next few hours."
The man rattled off an address and Chess's mind thought about the location. 20 to 30 minutes out. "If I go there, who handles this?" He asked. "I am only one man, it'll have to wait." He said, regretting ever agreeing to this madness all over again. "You gotta have other people. National guard, maybe." He looked at Swigget who understood the meaning of a long night. Chess looked over his shoulder at his house. "I got someone. I'll take care of it." Chess grabbed her bag from the truck and he head inside the house and wound his way past Jess who was asleep on the couch and through the kitchen to the basement door. He'd sent Tavin on his way with the fine ass brunette. "Keller." He yelled. "Keller." He yelled again. Two voices groaned and moaned, indicating they were waking up. He flipped the basement light on at the landing. "Julia," He yelled.
Julia heard his voice and ignored him the first time. The second time, she answered, annoyed and confused as to why she was asleep on that sofa under the glow of the big screen TV that broadcast the Netflix menu. She acclimated to her surroundings and opened her eyes, moved her body and wondered a moment what timeline fuckery she landed in as she was wearing boys' clothes and sleeping on the basement couch.
"Whaaaaat?" She screamed at him, swinging her legs over the sofa and planting them directly on Jayson's warm and slumbering body. His hands caught her little feet so she wouldn't try to stand up.
"Get up and get dressed, woman. You got a job."
"What job? Jay, am I working at the Christian store or-where are we? How old are we?" She rubbed her eyes, thinking that was the only legit job she had ever had, plus the one where she waited tables at the beach. Since she wasn't at any beach, she was confused and tired of waking up in different timelines and in different places.
"You haven't worked with Rachel since you were pregnant. What's wrong with you?"
"I don't work." She yelled at Chess.
"Tonight you do and I need you in Ephrata. Get dressed."
Jay rolled and let her set her feet on the floor. "But I don't understand." She called as she stepped over Jayson's body and went to the steps. She looked up at him in the doorway.
"I have an email coming that will give us a better picture, coordinates and details. Get dressed. Do you want it or not?" He asked her. "You don't have to. I thought you may enjoy this."
"How much do I get paid?" She asked, climbing the steps toward him.
"The pay is zero dollars and zero cents." He handed her a bag that he had got out of his truck with her belongings. "You won't get rich off this." He replied. Yet...He added, brain churning with a profitable idea. He gave her a little push toward the bathroom where she could change and then noticed as he explained the evening as it unfolded on their front lawn that Jayson wasn't present. He let that slide as he explained he had Uncle Dom coming for the bodies and he would ride out Ephrata way when he was finished up with him.
"Who's Uncle Dom?" She asked as she emerged tired and achy through the bathroom door.
"Funeral home and crematorium." He replied. "Get Jayson. What's he doing?"
"So let me get this straight, our things we signed are history and we are free of the restraints that were in place."
"Yes."
"And you agreed to handle this for them."
"Yes."
"And you agreed to handle Ephrata's incident for them."
"Yes."
"For free."
"Yes, for now." He grinned, following her to the basement, talking along the way to get Jayson. "If we manage this right, we could make this work in our favor, Jules."
"I see." She said as she peeked over the rail to Jayson who laid on the floor.
"Come on, Jayson."
"Huh? I thought you were going with him."
"No, I work with you." She answered him.
Chess and she talked along the way to the lawn where she waited for Jayson and Chess met and conversed with Uncle Dom and his boys, who were literally his boys, Dom Jr and Rocco. All grown men and as big as a car. Each one of them weighing in near 300 pounds a piece if not heavier. Well fed Italians that brought body bags enough to triple enclose each biohazard body. The Italians took over and Chess read through the emails. They walked along with the Italians and he explained the email. "It self destructs once it's open after 5 minutes." He took several screen shots of the email and then forwarded them in a text message to her cell phone. "Screen shots cannot self destruct. You will delete them after the incident."
"Ok,"
"So, what's gonna happen is-" He looked over his shoulder as Jay appeared at her side. "You're going to the movies. That officer holding down the pavement over there will drive you. Remember to note the time you arrive, how many you...exterminate...how many you shelter and where. You explain nothing to no one and they're aware you're coming. The perimeter is set up and you are in charge of it. Make that clear when you arrive." He continued to look through his emails and there was the email labeled incident report for this specific incident. He hadn't filled one out in ages and held off opening it up. It would take hours and he'd need to personally interview all involved. Usually there was a person designated to do this with each team, or two, depending on the size of the incident. "You are good at this, remembering little details and note taking, which comes in handy when we do the incident report. I will go through that with you. If we do this again, you'll need a notebook or download an app in the phone."
"How do I do this, though?"
"Same as last night. Kill, shrink, shelter, repeat till the fire's out, then you wait. The bodies, leave them where they lay and do not burn them. By the time that's wrapped up, I will be there. Any trouble, call me. Any questions, call me." He explained as he walked them to a patrol car. He instructed the officer to take them both to the Main movie theater on Main Street in Ephrata, Pa. "Good luck. I'll be there as soon as the mafia scoops up these bodies." He walked away from the both of them, Julia and Jayson armed with knives and hand guns carrying a backpack with their back up ammo.
"That's it? We just go?" Jay asked as the cop held the door open for them to get in.
"I think so." Julia answered, sliding into the rear of the patrol car for the second time in 24 hours.
"We don't need a badge or anything?" Jayson asked her. "Everyone needs a badge. I have one when I make the world's best pizza."
Julia had no idea. How would they know who they were when they arrived to this perimeter? Jay wished he'd stayed awake to watch how Chess handled the scene, because they were at a loss. He had watched as he commandeered the event, taking control of the scene, but all that unfolded afterward, he had slept through.
Julia opened her text message and expanded the screen shots of the email that had been sent to Chess. She didn't need coordinates, being that she knew the destination. The officer put on the lights minus the sirens and they were transported to their destination without having to stop once. She cringed at the thought of a movie theater. It had evidently been a late movie that released around midnight. Unfortunately for one showing, they would leave the movies in a body bag. "Approximately 40 people in this particular movie theater. Report initial interview with witness, "We all heard screaming and people ran through the doors. When we saw inside once the lights came up, we shut the doors and we called the police." Amy, 17, movie theater employee. Doors are barricaded. Initially believed to be a mass shooting, but no gunfire. Got a Philly case, per the officer responding to the scene, Officer Gene Barstow a 25 year veteran on the force. He's the one we'll speak to."
"Julia, why would they believe us when we come along this chaotic event and ask to go inside?"
"Chess said they're waiting for us. We are in a patrol car for crying out loud."
"A team of professionals, that's what they're waiting for." He reminded her.
"We are professionals."
They wouldn't get close to the theater without their police ride. The theater itself was situated on a quiet, tree lined street that looked the part of Americana. They could see the scene from the car as they approached flashing lights and onlookers leaning over police tape. Julia and Jayson forced through the small crowd and they approached an Officer.
"Looking for Barstow." Julia stated, holding up her phone and reading his name to the officer. He signaled an older gentleman, slightly overweight and balding. "Hi, Julia and Jayson Keller. We're here to-" To what? She asked herself as she paused and looked at Jayson.
What did Chess do? Jay thought back as he had commandeered the scene from Officer Swigget. "I'm sure you've received a call informing you why we are here, Officer Barstow."
"Sargent Barstow."
"Yes, of course, Sargent Barstow." Julia and Jayson dipped below the yellow police tape and walked with Sarge to the theater entrance. "The onlookers, get them away from here."
"Some of them have family inside here-"
"They can be called back to identify bodies. Move them to another location altogether. I want no one on either side of that tape that doesn't belong there." He opened the theater door and held it for Jay and Julia as he described the details once again. Julia opened her pack and she looked around the theater as she pulled out her and Jay's weapons and knives. She handed Jay's off to him and then put her own weaponry on her person. The back pack went on her back, straps taut against her body as it had been in Killadelphia. Julia asked to see the scene and was led up a set of stairs with Jay bringing up the rear. They went into a small room and they had view of the zoms in the theater below. Theater lights raised and they all stood awkwardly still. The feast was over and they waited. Not a nest, however, as they all corralled inside without a specific line formation. Ambient light didn't bother them in the least. There were several who were aware of their presence and shifted their bloodied bodies and faces toward the sound of their visitors above. "Interesting." Julia whispered to Jayson. She motioned to Barstow to turn around and head out. As they descended the steps Julia asked about the fire exits. "Got anyone round back?"
"No. It's not a hostage situation-"
"Get an officer or two out there. Weapons drawn and order them to take head shots should anyone come out of the theater's fire exit. They are monsters not people."
He objected initially, but Jayson shut him down. "We are in command of this event, Sargent Barstow. Place the officers around back at the fire exit and have their weapons at the ready." Barstow walked off and exited through the main entrance, leaving Jayson and Julia on their own. "I wanna check out the other theater, clear it, and the rest of the place first." Jay said quietly.
"Agreed." Julia nodded and since this was the smallest movie theater known to man, she and Jay meandered through the lobby and eating area, looking under tables, around the concession area and behind the bar. Yes, Julia observed, there was a bar. They looked behind signs and concession stands and then once that was clear, they checked out the bathrooms. Each stall and each gender. It was a quaint two theater venue with a lobby that was well decorated and clean. Tables and stools and tables and chairs. Red and gold swirled design carpet and well lit. Old time movie posters hung in frames on the walls. It looked a little more like a fifties diner theme than a movie theater. It was clear of living and dead souls. They moved next into the empty theater, lights were up and the place was remarkably clean for a movie having left out. The same carpet from the lobby extended under the doors and into the theater. Passing from red painted walls into beige painted walls with bright circular light fixtures with fluorescent bulbs, they each took a side and walked row by row of red cushioned seats for people. They found none. The fire exit was secure and they walked the stage a moment before heading back up the aisles to the doors of the empty movie theater.
"How do you wanna do this?" He asked, recalling the view from above as the zoms stood primarily at the bottom of the down sloping aisles.
"One at a time as they come up the aisles. You take one side and I will take the other." She said as she placed her hands on the first piece of furniture the people had used to barricade the door. They quietly moved the barricade aside. "I think you're right, Jay. I would like a cute little uniform to wear. And a badge. That's not such a bad idea." She said as she placed her hand on the door to pull it open. Thankfully this was a late showing of a movie and there were no small children inside the theater. There were, however, older kids, teenagers who were on dates or with their friends. Adults alike out for an evening with friends and loved ones. Some possibly alone. No little children, and for that Julia and Jayson were grateful.
They took them as they came at them. Julia got the ones as they climbed the aisle toward her, her knife aiming as close to the eye as possible. She normally didn't go for the eyes anymore, considering she was used to dealing with a more decaying and brittle dead. The freshly turned ones were harder to break through and then retract the weapon. She preferred taking them out on a grander scale than to take them out small pockets at a time or as they popped up. But this is and was how it began, small incidents, more and more each day until the incidents outnumbered the teams and then check mate on the part of the dead. They would tip the scale soon enough and all this was preventative, proactive and only served to put off the inevitable. More and more events, tired warriors in uniform and it would then rest directly upon the civilian shoulders. Neighborhood by neighborhood and street by street. People were sick and dying. People did it every day and those who were infected would turn and start an incident, then an epidemic, and eventually a pandemic as they traveled. Fortunately for the infected they couldn't travel far unless one made it onto a plane out of one major city into another. One sick individual could unknowingly put humanity out of business.
As Julia put down the last of them, watching as the woman's body slumped lifeless to the blood soaked carpet at her feet, she turned to see Jayson only three away from the very same goal. She didn't want this for him anymore than he wanted it for himself. How was this helping the people other than putting them out of their misery? He pushed forward as Julia had waited for them to come to her. Once the last lay dead, they went aisle by aisle and double checked, then triple checked and then declared all clear. She sat in the seat at the top aisle nearest the door and she caught her breath and gathered her composure before even thinking about heading outside. There were people out there who waited the all clear as well.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Ok, babe?"
"Sure, Jayson." She answered, wiping a soiled knife on her soiled jeans. "I have ruined two perfectly decent pair of jeans." She said to him. "Blood doesn't wash out well, you know."
She rose and went to the bathroom where she scrubbed up to her tee shirt sleeves, bloody pink bubbles foamed on her arms and she rinsed, watching it funnel down the drain. She needed a hose, not a sink. She needed to strip off her clothes and hose off, which reminded her of a field of boys in the spring at the Mastro infantry school who, after a day's worth of training, would strip down to their uniform pants and hose off under a cold stream of water. So that's why...she mused as she recalled Tatia fully clothed being doused in water. She knew there had to be more to it than rinsing off sweat. It was symbolic and traditional.
She and Jay dried their arms and hands with copious amounts of paper towels and then head to the entrance to call an all clear and then wait for Chess Morgan to arrive to the second event of the day. Barstow gave the all clear and then called back his officers he'd placed at the rear of the building.
Chess had already called her twice without an answer and he didn't get concerned. Busy, he knew the meaning of it. He itched to get off his street and into the truck and far away from the insanity of his childhood home. It took 2 hours to carefully bag and mark 15 bodies and then load them into an old U-Haul truck that the Manganelli's privately owned. They went in body by body and stacked them. The truck was easy to clean, Uncle Dom had told him. He refused to load bodies into his hearse or his privately owned transport minivan. Chess reminded him that the woman, Louann, had to be taken care of in a particular way and that he and her daughter would be along sometime in the next 24 hours to discuss arrangements and pick out an urn, etc...
"You know the lady, kid?"
"She's my neighbor, Louann Gilligan, lives over there." Chess pointed to the house with the police tape around the door and the yard. "I'm having a kid with her daughter."
"You got my number to the service line. Lemme give you my cell. I guarantee we're the only ones that are willing to do this local, ya understand."
"I think I do. I got more work unless you got people in Ephrata?"
"Manganelli-Vitarelli, family business. My daughter's husband is Vitarelli. Call him. I'll unload these fine Maverick citizens and they'll call us if they need help." Uncle Dom snapped his fingers at his son who handed over business cards. On the back of one, he wrote his personal cell number.
"Thanks." Chess said with a firm handshake with Dominic Manganelli.
"Very lucrative part of our family business, Morgan. The more bio's you got, the better. Send em our way. Condolences to the girlfriend. See me personally and I will help ya's out."
3am...Chess glanced at his watch. He had business cards for both Manganelli Funeral and cremation services as well as Manganelli-Vitarelli Funeral services. Dom's personal card with his cell number and one other for the Ephrata area home, he tucked in his wallet behind his license. The others he pocketed for now. He was making the Manganelli-Vitarelli's rich off this ordeal, but he remained penniless from it. There had to be a way to bank on this, he thought. If they were dealing with this once, not a big deal, but if they were dealing with this on the regular, and no one had indicated they would, but they would need some form of legitimate compensation. Would they do this for free? He didn't feel as though that was smart. If the Manganelli's banked off it, then he could too. Till he couldn't anymore. So far there were four exterminators that should be compensated: Ray, Julia, Tavin and Jayson. He also provided a service with the organization of the disposal and the incident reports and who would clean this all up? It would take days to get a proper crew out there. He was first to admit that he was not the smartest person on planet earth, but a business was a business...the family business...and he had sent two of his partners, family members, to do what they were expert at doing.
The only area of concern was clean up. Chess indicated that Swigget could leave and thanked him. He indicated that one of his fellow officers would need to stay at the scene and secure it till clean up arrived. Around the clock and the county was paying an officer for that. Around the clock took one cop off the streets for an entire shift or more.
"We can get rich off shit like this." Chess said as he climbed into his truck. He backed out of his drive way and he called Julia again, told her was on his way, and drove off thinking of all the possibilities. He could be involved without reenlisting. His whole family could be if they chose to. Each could play a part. They could run a very lucrative and thriving business off the living that turned into the dead. Extermination, arrangements, outreach to community services like the funeral services and the clean up services. This could be a full time job. If teams were otherwise occupied or if they weren't, they could offer a legitimate full time service that people in the community could use. "There isn't a phone number for this." He recalled Jayson ranting that evening in the lab. "Is there a 1-800 number to call and we won't bother you anymore?" Chess thought at that moment, why couldn't there be a toll free incident number to call? Trained and experienced operators that could take down any threat imaginable. They could open an extermination business. They could charge for their services. Even if they worked as contractors for the military, called when they were needed, then they'd still make bank.
