Julia had spoken with Chess and he'd given the directive to get started laying bodies out. As Jay worked, she watched as he moved each body. His work began at the top of each aisle then moved downward to the screen where they'd heaped during the kill. Half way through Jay's arrangement of bodies, she rose from her seat and started matching people with identification. Matching the dead and barely recognizable with their picture ID's she thought damn near impossible.
The difference between Julia and Jayson became glaringly obvious during the immediate aftermath of the Main Theater incident. Jay worked silently, quickly, and processed the scene before their eyes quietly and without comment. Julia spoke as she worked, talking quietly and to the victims of this viral epidemic. The death they carried out did not compare to the death that had been carried out before they arrived. Some, but not all victims were disfigured, missing chunks of their arms, faces, chests and legs. She rooted through pockets and purses for ID's and wallets. She left all contents intact and when she found a match, she set the ID and belongings with the particular body.
Each victim, she snapped a picture and forwarded that picture to Sargent Barstow. He then matched victims with family and moved the process along on the outside with family or friends who had arrived to the theater or who had been lucky enough to escape. All family or friends who didn't wish to leave were escorted to a local diner where they were fed, kept updated and waited on word for an end to the madness. Words were few and far between though as the matching process waned on.
Before the Manganelli-Vitarelli Funeral Home could be called or the M.E. for that matter, every last victim needed identification. Julia kept her opinion to herself, that perhaps burning was the right course of action, then a little memorial. But families wanted closure and needed peace of mind. There was also the issue of insurance claims and other legalities that were obsolete in the future.
"What's up, Jules?" Jay asked, seeing she had started walking toward the doors.
"I can't stand this shit." She complained, throwing purses on the ground. "You wanna know who I am? It's all attached to me. Not all this shit." She yelled, tugging the straps that remained taut against her shoulders.
Funny, he thought, because Julia carried virtually the same belongings in her pack. "Take a break." He said calmly. "Go smoke." He waved her away as he took a bag from her hands.
A break? She wanted to leave altogether. Burn the building to the ground and then watch the flames destroy any remains. The whole scene was depressing, but necessary.
She stepped outside the Main Theater door and lit a cigarette. She stood quietly in the corner and watched the police as they carried on business as usual. Frustrated, she had the sudden idea that she could use some professional help. She slowly approached the yellow tape, the men in blue as they awaited more information.
"You need something?" Sargent Barstow asked her as she approached him.
"Yes," She looked at two officers who held the ground down by the yellow tape perimeter. She pointed. "Him and him." She replied calmly.
"Franklin and Hayes." Barstow barked their way. They turned their attention to the Sargent.
"Yeah, Sarge." One replied.
"You and you. Glove up and get in here with us."
"For what?"
"Got 45 bodies to ID. Glove up and get inside."
Once she finished her cigarette, she led them to the theater. She warned them what they see may disturb them, and they could take a moment, gather their composure, then get to work. She understood some may be first timers and their reluctance to view the scene. On the other hand, they'd surely witnessed crime scenes, car accidents, shootings, mauling's and the like. As they donned their gloves, Julia explained what she expected from them. Rummage through the belongings and match the photo ID with the body. Simple as that. No more and no less, but "We need help." On that note, Julia resumed the work Jay had continued in her absence.
By the time Chess arrived with coffee, they'd gone through three quarters of the belongings and with the extra hands, they'd identified a handful more of the theater goers. "Men? Women?" He asked, pulling her coffee out of the carrier. He handed it off to her and then handed Jay his coffee.
"23 men and 22 women. More than half are ID'd." Jay replied without any kind of enthusiasm.
"Really? Awesome." Chess said with some enthusiasm. They would have better luck and move faster with another environment. Some scenes already had a list of victims, like a workplace or a congregation. Strangers in public met with more difficulty. There was always the Jane or John Doe that couldn't be named.
They took a short break over coffee while Jay and Julia answered Chess's specific questions and jotted the info down in a small notebook. They drank coffee, energized as they discussed the incident itself. All his questions would be pertinent to filling out the incident report later. He'd filled out a few dozen incident reports and he knew to gather specific information. Julia had an eye for detail and a memory to match it. As they got back to work, Chess opened his pack he carried and then started bagging some personal effects and ID's in gallon sized bags, then he laid the bag itself on the victim's chest. As he worked alongside each body, he wrote the victim's name and personal info down in his notebook. A couple hours later, night shift turned to day shift and they had tagged the last victim.
"Jules, stay with the dead." He told her as he led Jay and the officers out of the movie theater.
"Where ya going?" She asked as she took a seat in one of the aisle seats.
"Me and Jay are gonna go find the families. Me and Jay are gonna explain this mess. I'm gonna get you the number for the M.E. and I would like it very much if you can persuade him to come here with death certs."
"Persuade?"
"I don't care what you have to do or say, just get him here."
Sargent Barstow brought her a cell with the M.E. on the line. She didn't need to do much persuading, the man practically volunteered to visit the scene and look at the bodies. He declined taking all 45 into the morgue. He stated ten different policies, protocols and then blamed space. He hadn't the space or the man power or the blah...blah...blah, Julia didn't care, told him as much. Chess had said the Manganelli-Vitarelli's were going to retrieve the dead, which added a couple more hours onto their theater time.
By the time the medical examiner arrived, Chess and Jay had returned. While the Medical examiner signed off on each certificate, Chess had her call the funeral home and give them the information they needed. She was then charged with the duty of handing out information to the families in regards to the particular funeral home and regulations in regards to biohazard materials, the need for cremation. A couple families were upset about this, but were assured there was no alternative where this virus was concerned. They couldn't take the chance of infecting anyone else or the local eco system. The families would be able to sit with the representatives from the funeral home and they would further elaborate on laws and handling of their loved ones. Once the man or woman was cremated, their option to go with alternative funeral homes or services of their preference was possible.
She opted to finally end the discussion as one man in particular became emotional and on the verge of belligerent with her explanation. "I do not work for and I am not a representative for the funeral home. Any further issues should be directed to their representative. You have the information in your possession. Thank you all for your patience and I offer my sincere sympathies."
Any other time and place, Julia would have not been so kind with the general public. People...emotional and distraught people, she wasn't a fan. She had exhausted her explanations and decided not to repeat herself again. She could understand the loss, no one was better suited to understand the loss.
"You do not care. You come out here and say a few words and walk away. You're hiding something, you're-"
Julia approached him, parent to parent, and she snatched him by the collar of his shirt. "I have experienced this first hand and those I dealt with were not as kind." She released his collar, smoothed it out for him, then stepped away as police and family members alike sat in shock at her actions. "We have given you the luxury of the truth today. Go. Home." She remained composed, didn't flip out or break down, but to say she was the slightest bit dishonest or covering up anything that happened inside the theater insulted her.
Chess and Jayson sat in the lobby at one of the tables and listened as she and Sargent Barstow argued. "I could arrest you."
"For what?" She glared.
"Assault."
"I didn't assault anybody."
"I have fifty witnesses that'll say different, Mrs. Keller."
"Jules, go apologize." Jay said across the table. Chess sat at his side.
"Apolo-"
He cut her off, "Yes, go apologize for gripping him up. Jesus, would you have wanted that after Caroline died?" Chess asked her. He nudged Jay with his arm. "Go with her. Jesus Christ, Julia."
"Are you fucking serious?" Julia asked, seriously considering whether she'd prefer to be arrested than to apologize.
"No more dealing with people for you."
Jay slid his aching body off the chair and took her hand as Sargent Barstow led them to the police tape. "I can't believe you, Julia." He mumbled as he moved behind her and held her waist. He remembered Mr Haney from the firehouse where he and Chess spoke with the family members. He was emotionally distraught there as well and all too suspicious of the explanations.
"Jayson," Mr Haney said, eyes lighting up a bit when he saw him. He shook Jayson's hand and then launched into a dissertation of Julia's behavior.
"Yes, she told me." Jay nodded as he held Julia's shoulders to keep her in place just in case she decided an apology was not in the cards. As Mr Haney elaborated more on the loss than Julia's hands being placed on him, Jay felt he only needed someone to listen to him. Denial...he couldn't accept his son was dead. When Julia laid her hands on him, he was flustered and embarrassed and insisted she be arrested or apologize.
Several minutes passed and he and Jay bantered back and forth like Julia wasn't standing there at all. She tried slinking away, from beneath Jay's hands as Mr Haney wasn't interested in her as much as he was interested in talking about his son. Mr Haney talked around her as if she was invisible. Jay held her firm in place though. "I think that this whole event has brought up memories of a similar time for her." He squeezed her shoulders, which was her cue to speak.
"Uh, yes, exactly." She said, looking over her shoulder at Jay. "I believe that I was out of line. I shouldn't have placed my hands on you. I'm sorry." She hated saying those words, because she flat out lied to his face. She didn't regret anything she did. He was annoying and how Jay was managing to listen as he droned on about his dead kid, was beyond her. "I didn't understand it either when it happened to us." She added. "Why? And nothing anyone said was good enough. There was no excuse that satisfied me." She paused. "There still isn't an explanation and it pisses me off, so to expect me to give you one, when I don't have one is-" She wanted to say stupid, but chose a better word, "Impossible."
"I agree."
"Why are you with her? Are you partners?" Mr Haney asked curiously.
"Yes, and she's my wife." Jay replied. "Our daughter, she spoke about our daughter." Jay said as Sargent Barstow relaxed next to him. The situation wouldn't escalate. "Her name's Caroline." Jay added. "It was a year ago."
"Someone did to your daughter what was done to my son?" He asked with tears running over his cheeks. He looked back and forth between Julia and Jayson.
"I did." Jay volunteered.
"I assure you that your son was treated as humanely as possible, because we think of her every time we do this." Julia added, hoping that would suffice for him.
"It's something no one wants to go through." Jay said as she placed her hands over his. At this point, discussing their daughter with a stranger was unsettling for both of them.
Both had run out of words to say to Mr Haney and that's when Sargent Barstow stepped in, offering sympathy and reminding all involved their was work that needed to be done inside the theater.
They returned to the inner confines of the Main theater in time for the medical examiner finishing his last death certificate. He chatted with Chess, told him to call him for any incident in the county. He would be glad to stop by, tour the scene and sign off on death certificates. Being there was no documented name on the books for this particular virus, the M.E. signed off on the cause of death he could see with his two eyes and furthered it as accidental. He dealt in death daily in his chosen profession, but these were special circumstances and times had changed. This virus, as he stated, fascinated him. The Philadelphia incident only furthered his interest and he felt he needed to donate his time and expertise.
"Call me any time. Any time." He repeated, handing Chess a business card.
The doc bid goodbye to all in their company and Chess was happy for the first time since Julia Fry had been released.
Julia took a seat at the theater's lobby table as Chess escorted the doc to the exit.
"Wish I knew about the good doc last night. Coulda saved me and Tav a lot of trouble." Chess said as he came back through the theater toward them. He passed and arrived at the bar where he swiped a bottle of whiskey that had been unsecured.
"He's a great doctor, so I'm not surprised." Julia commented, laying her head on her arms on the table in front of her.
Chess poured himself and Jay shots and motioned to Jay to join him there at the bar. "Act like you know doc or something, Julia." Chess handed off a shot glass to Jayson and they swallowed the whiskey down fast.
"I do. That's Dr Kahn, Chess." She replied, acting like he should know the man personally for some reason. "He delivered Antonia. Duh." She mumbled, then realized he hadn't been there for Antonia's birth.
He and Jayson took seats at the small bar and Chess poured another shot in the glasses. Chess's mind churned with the possibility that they may have a doc for plan B. If he could manage to secure a safe place for Dr Kahn and his family when it all fell apart, then he would have a true physician not only for the birth of Layla Morgan, but for all medical issues and injuries in the coming days. As long as he could procure supplies, then they could have a real doctor. One who could train others like Tavin for when they eventually disembarked the campus for the clear out of the state.
He and Jay sat at the bar talking and did a couple more shots while the Manganelli-Vitarelli funeral home worked to bag and remove 45 bodies from Main Theater. The Manganelli-Vitarelli's chose to work outside the view of the general public and news media as they used the emergency exit in the rear of the theater. Chess refused to bag one more body and the Manganelli-Vitarelli's had plenty of hands to help with that feat. He'd bagged and tagged bodies half the night and as far as he was concerned, his job was over and done with short of a couple incident reports, which could take half the night.
Chess sent Jay to release the local police department from the scene and reminded them that one officer needed to man the door till clean up could come through and restore the theater to its original state. As Jay spoke with Sargent Barstow, he noticed a crowd of locals had already started to arrive to the area with their mementos to remember the lives lost in the theater. Stuffed animals, flowers, pictures and people who knew and did not know those who perished in the theater. Jay locked and secured the door from the inside and then returned to Chess and the bar where he hadn't stopped drinking. He'd taken to sipping the whiskey with a couple ice cubes as opposed to shots. He relaxed, got comfortable and told Jay to do the same as they had a wait before the funeral home completed their work at hand.
"She's out." Jay pointed at Julia as she slept with her head down at the table.
Chess took that moment to reach over the bar and secure them a bottle of vodka. "Here, put it in your bag." Chess handed the bottle to Jay. Jay tucked it in the side pocket and strapped the pocket shut.
"Last thing she needs." Jay told him as he opened his zip pocket and pulled out a joint.
"You don't open it and drink it with her, she'll find someone who will. Just sayin, Jay."
Jay lit the joint and shared with Chess while Julia slept.
"Just saying, she snores like a buzz saw." Jay observed as the sound of Julia's slumber could be heard across the theater lobby.
"She does that, yeah."
"I'm glad she sleeps when I'm awake cause I would never get to sleep through that."
"She said she has a deviated septum or some shit, but she's just loud."
"Plus she's all over the bed when she sleeps. Won't lay still."
"True." Chess agreed. "She's restless. The other one took up the whole bed but stayed quiet in one spot."
"Just a couple differences I've noticed between her and sissy."
Chess quietly thought of all the other idiosyncrasies that made Julia Fry and Julia Morgan stand apart. Mostly physiological. Their personalities were so opposite, but the core of their being, the matter of their souls a carbon copy, identical in every way. Their heart beats in sync, their energy aligned. Chess, being a twin, could understand the link between them, but also understood how the two identicals could be so very different. He often wondered why his brother hid in the house deluded by alien beings and he walked freely haunted by the dead. Two very different delusions, one very real and one possibly real but had yet to show itself.
They were distracted from conversation in the quiet of the Main Theater lobby when Mr Vitarelli entered and informed him they were finished with the deceased. They left through the rear emergency exit of the theater and left the three of them in the lobby.
"Know what I know? I never wanna do this again." Jay said as he slid off the bar stool to his feet. Unsteady, he and Chess had a bit to drink and smoked some. Neither was in any shape to drive, so Jay woke Julia with a nudge and set the truck keys on the table in front of her. "You're driving, baby, we're fucked up."
"Fucked up?" She asked, rubbing her eyes, moving her limbs which were stiff from sleeping at a table. She stretched and adjusted her pack that was still in place on her back. Jay thought it strange she'd slept with it on, but she was used to sleeping in weird places. She had run all over the flip side, slept when she could and more often than not, that bag stayed on her body either looped around an extremity or beneath her head as a pillow. It all depended on a number of factors in the environment at that time. "If you'd been there..." She said under her breath as he walked ahead of her. She didn't mean for him to hear her and she sometimes thought aloud. A personal habit from spending so much time alone and on her own. When there's no one to talk to, bounce ideas off of, have basic chit chat, one begins to talk aloud or lose one's mind.
"What did you say?" Chess asked, hearing the remark and having lived the truth on both sides.
She didn't feel like an argument. "Nothing." She replied coolly, jingling the keys in her hand.
They drove the 35 minute ride in the truck. How she'd managed to be the sober one of the three mystified her. Her lack of driver's license didn't mean she didn't know how to drive. She had plenty of road hours under her belt, but both licensed and intoxicated back seat drivers critiqued her the entire way home. She threatened to leave them on the roadside and they quieted down.
Chess was first out, tumbling the few feet to the driveway beneath his feet and righting himself before he fell or let go of the bottle of whiskey he held in his grip. He remarked he'd sooner break a bone than break the bottle. That much she could comprehend as she had similar days. The last couple were especially rough on all of them. Having run the flip side with zoms on their asses was one thing. Having them literally in the front yard was all too real. As soon as they disembarked the truck, the reality of the last 48 hours sat right in front of their faces. Agonizing, surely, they looked around the block and they saw blood stains and solemn faces staring out their windows or doors, confined to their houses for the duration and unable to leave like Chess, Julia and Jay had. Reality of confinement hit them suddenly and Jay asked if they were allowed to leave once they stepped inside the house.
Chess answered no, at least till the following day. Jess had an appointment with the Manganelli's to make arrangements and choose an urn for her mother. The reality of the loss sat inside the house five months pregnant and scared, crying for the loss of her mother. She spent the day with Sandy as she was not permitted to return to her house. Jess waited eagerly their return, worrying that something would happen to one or all of them as well. Sandy's concern was visible as well and both females attempted to embrace one or three of them, but Chess warned them to stay back till they all cleaned up and the clothes could either be washed or disposed of. Technically they should not have even entered the house, but stripping nude on the lawn wasn't an option. He handed the bottle of whiskey he'd stolen to Jess as well as a couple sodas from the fridge and said he'd meet her upstairs.
"Everything OK here, mom?" He asked, stripping to his boxers in the kitchen by the back door.
"Uh, yes." She replied. "Jess is so emotional and-"
"I'll talk to her, mom." He cut her off and moved into the laundry room by the door where he stuffed his clothes into the washer. He motioned to Jay and Julia. "Come on, take em off and give em to me." He was feeling impatient, wanted a shower and he had Jess waiting for him with a bottle of whiskey. He wanted one or both of what waited upstairs.
"Uh, here. Now?" Jay asked as Julia did as asked, stripping off her clothes piece by piece. She handed over everything except her panties. She wore no bra and shyness wasn't in the cards with any of the people who stood in that room. Jay reluctantly removed the clothes he wore and handed them to Chess.
"Shy, Jay?" Julia asked as he stood awkwardly in his boxer briefs. "She changed your diapers, dude." Julia smiled at his shyness.
"Didn't change yours." He mumbled, taking a place behind her and moving her out of the kitchen toward the downstairs bathroom.
"I would have taken all that off outside. I don't care." She shrugged.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Chess instructed his mother to start the washer when they finished bathing, use hot water and regular soap. Wash them twice.
"I'm glad you're home, Chester."
"Me too, mom. Me too." He replied as he took his cell off the table.
He glanced at the messages, deleted several of them once inside the bathroom. His personal life would remain personal and he didn't want Jess going through his texts. Girls had a habit of going through phones and he didn't need Jess going through his phone. He didn't want or need to inadvertently hurt baby mama's feelings. He'd learned that lesson from Cook who took her caught feelings and ran with them, getting jealous and angry when she saw that message from Jess indicating she may be pregnant. Jess wasn't even sure at the time, only speculating, but Cookie saw that message before he even got a chance to read it himself. That fight that followed that message ended anything between him and Cookie for good. He didn't want the same thing to happen for Jesslyn, especially over someone he'd only known a couple months, a guy no less. So delete, delete, delete after ignoring the guy who only inquired as to whether he was alive and alright following the outbreak and death in front of his mom's house. The kid's only function in Chess's life was a blow job after showers at the gym. No more and no less.
After a quick scrubbing and drying off, Chess head to his room where Jess waited with sodas and his bottle of whiskey he'd swiped from the movie theater. He took the bottle from her, took a swallow and chased it with soda. "Wish you could drink." He said, rubbing hand over her belly.
"Why? I don't drink a lot anymore, Chess. You know that."
"Relaxes you." Legs open faster...he replied, kissing her neck as he moved closer to her. Alcohol always set her in a good mood, made her forget all the horrible shit from her past. Those minutes, no matter how few, when her mind reflected backward to a time long before him. Staring baby mama in the eyes, rubbing on a belly and kissing her hadn't ever been in his future, so he thought. But there he stood, holding onto the small blond who had filled in around the edges. He took another drink from the bottle then the soda, then offered her some soda. She shook her head no. Another swallow from bottle and can, he then set them on the dresser and moved back to her.
She hadn't necessarily given him a yes or a no and he figured he'd go for it. Jess was naïve, but not necessarily stupid. Why else would he send her to his bedroom with drinks? Why else would she wait for him there? The hands that held her waist slowly moved under her shirt and then lifted her shirt up and over her head, leaving her braless in front of him. She covered her chest and belly with crisscrossed arms, which he discouraged as he dipped over her and kissed lightly over her chest to her belly.
"This is cool, Jess." He said, getting to his knees in front of her, kissing her belly and placing hands on her swollen abdomen. "We made this." He smiled, placing her arms at her side. "Don't hide from me." He said, kissing her stomach.
"K, but I got heavy and-"
"Stop it." He shook his head as her hands moved to cover his. She'd gained a few pounds, hadn't even started to gain any true weight yet. A belly protruding from her body was about all her weight gain amounted to, that plus some amazing tits. She was at a stage where she didn't even feel uncomfortable yet, that interim time when the morning sickness ends and the uncomfortable kicked in. "You're beautiful like this, pretty girl." He told her and he meant it. Telling girls they were pretty came with the territory. Some liked to hear it, some needed to hear it and some thrived on it. Even if it wasn't true, girls liked hearing it said to them.
"Thanks, handsome." She giggled.
"Let's not get carried away now." He laughed, doubting the word handsome applied to him somehow. When he tried his best, OK would be the description he'd use to describe his scrawny frame and plain face. He fell into girls and girls fell into him purely by accident. OK with a poor attitude. Most girls would say it was his words and he had no idea what he said that was so fantastic, but he figured he said something right at some point in time to at least 2 dozen of them. For some, it was the uniform. For some, it was alcohol and then once alcohol got involved, most chicks liked his size. Even he was first to admit his dick was the only thing he had going for him. The good ones, the ones he'd kill and die for, always and without fail, said, "Oh, no, that's not true."
Adding alcohol, specifically vodka, normally made girls easier. Adding alcohol to him though, made him talk. He'd start running at the mouth, especially with a girl he liked or loved, so he tried hard not to drink too much with a girl he wasn't too close to. Those few he was close to, he'd start talking, romanticizing, speculating, philosophizing. Basically he made shit up and it just happened to make some sense to equally drunk and equally confused females...and some males.
"You know I love you, right." He said, putting arms around her waist.
"Geeze, Chess." She whined.
Not exactly the reaction he was going for. He wanted to make her comfortable with his poor choice of words. "I do though, Jesslyn."
"You were the one who said, 'let's not go and catch any feelings, Jess'." She reminded him as she fluffed his hair. The king of mixed signals maybe. "And here you go telling me you love me."
"Well, it's a long term, friend, baby daddy, ex boyfriend kinda love that exists on many levels of time and space." He laughed.
"Right, Chess, right. I love you, too." She smiled back, a sweet and soft smile that Jess didn't give to just any guy whether she wore clothes or not. As he pulled her stretchy shorts over her hips, he revealed big girl panties. At some point, he figured, all pregnant girls switched over from the cute and adorable frilly or lacy panties to the standard comfortable cotton ones.
"These are cute." He said under his breath, snapping the waist band below her bump against her skin.
"Your mom thinks so, they're hers." She said, lifting her feet as her shorts came off. "I can't go get my stuff, remember?"
"Oh, sure, yeah. I'll do that later, so you're comfy. I'll get your stuff." He replied, guiding the panties over her legs to her feet. She'd picked up on his hint that she should grow in enough hair to cover Jayson's name. His cousin's J looped above the hairline though.
"Since you're down there." She whispered, pulling his head toward her. "Please, no one's done that since-"
You can shut up now, Jess...he thought as he let her guide his face between her thighs. He tried tuning her out, thinking she was about to give up too much unnecessary information, but as he placed his tongue on her clit, he heard her finish her sentence..."Since last time you did it.", which made him feel better for some reason. Jess, being the faithful girlfriend with no boyfriend. As he pleased her, that name stared him in the face. Covered, but not completely, it was annoying to say the least. He felt her legs shaking and the soft moaning he heard above him and once she came, he could get off her and not see the name anymore. What would ever have possessed her to do something so ridiculous, he was at a loss. No one's name would ever go on him, except maybe his child's name, but that would be a long way off.
"Fuck, Jess, that tat's annoying." He admitted for the tenth time since their original hook up back in February. "What on earth were you thinking, girl?" He asked, hopping from his knees to his feet. He alternated whiskey and soda before moving her to the bed.
"I was thinking I was in love and going to spend the rest of my life with him. That's what I was thinking."
"The pussy though, Jess. You do have other body parts."
"Well, keep in mind the possessiveness of our whole relationship. The four of us, and we were young and stupid, too, at the time. He told me not to do it."
Should have listened...Chess kept to himself...Jay's usually right about most things.
"Um, you have Julia tattooed on your back, but you complain about Jay's name?"
"I do not and have never tattooed Julia's name on me, Jess." He argued. That much he knew to be true.
"Well, Chess, she's right there by your rock. Not her name either."
That surprised him when she mentioned his tattoo. He'd seen it, he'd looked at pictures of it up close and he'd looked in a mirror. He'd seen and agreed to the drawing that Gunny sketched out for him and sat through three very lengthy sessions to finish it.
"Not her, Jess. I don't know what you're talking about." He alternated whiskey and soda then, while she drank from her own can, his hand worked between her legs. He had always loved touching her there, so few had that he felt like he jointly owned that with his cousin. For someone who never lived out the life at the farmhouse like he, Jay, and Julia did, Jesslyn sure went in on the ownership fantasy with them. Whatever connection the two of them, Jess and Jay, had formed when he jumped back and they ran away to parts unknown together must have been strong. It seemed fairly unbreakable, the bond between them. The reasons why, Chess hadn't given much thought to. It was alluring in a sexual and submissive way though.
"Bed." He said, taking the soda from her. "I'm probably gonna say some things, pretty girl." He admitted. After the couple days he had, he felt like he needed to unload more than in her vagina.
"Sure about that, daddy?" She giggled.
Strange she'd address me as daddy...Chess thought and again kept to himself. He didn't need to start in on that word in particular. But if she felt comfortable saying it, then so be it. The original daddy and Jess had lived separate for good reason since she was age 9. The original daddy had not been kind to her or Louann.
"I'm sure." He nodded, backing her to bed.
Maybe he told her too much, said all the wrong and emotional words he needed to say. For someone trying to avoid a sexual and emotional attachment to Jesslyn Gilligan, she practically bounced out of the room to the shower with a huge smile on her face. Tears...he'd brought the girl to tears and not from the sex. He told her what she needed to hear and what he needed to say...again... He made the connection...thanks, Layla Morgan. Thanks, in part, to Louann Gilligan for getting her head split open like a coconut in the street. The girl was emotionally vulnerable to begin with and he went and reassured her. He'd take care of her, he'd love her, she wasn't alone, she didn't have to worry...Lord, and he meant every damn word he said. Thanks, whiskey...
He shuffled off the bed and took Jess fresh towels and her clothes that he'd removed from her. His clean sheet, he picked up from the bathroom floor and after he cleaned himself up, he put it back in his room. "Hungry, Jess?" He asked, peeking in the bathroom as she stepped out of the shower.
"Hmm, yes. I smell wings." She replied.
He didn't smell wings, but the wings and pizza were present and accounted for when he arrived back in his kitchen. Julia and Jay sat with his mother at the kitchen table and were detailing their last 48 hours for her. Chess always refrained from doing so with his parents. Not that they wouldn't comprehend what he meant, but Sandy didn't need to worry if possible. Chess had always been the one who never needed understanding or a shoulder or to vent things, especially with his mother. Only recently had they verged on being close and that had more to do with their short excursion to the flip side than anything else. She had seen, in part, what he did there and then he expanded on that to make a living for a short time. Civilians off the street didn't need to know details, but they sat there and gave gory detail after gory detail. Having the incident occur out front, Chess couldn't necessarily hide that anymore. Ray had handled that just fine, doing what any one of them would have done if the roles were reversed.
"Mommy, where's dad?" Chess asked, still half hit in the ass, feeling the whiskey course through his blood.
"Ohio run." She answered, rising from the seat. "Night, kids. Have fun." She said, pushing the chair under the table.
"Night, mommy." He replied, taking the lap top from the living room and then setting it on the table in front of Jay and Julia. Next he sat the notebook from the Ephrata incident. "Gotta fill out the reports." Chess mumbled, going to the counter and making Jess a plate with wings and a slice of pizza. "Who delivered here?"
"I had the cop call and they delivered to him down the block a ways." Jay replied. "No one's delivering to this street till it's cleaned up."
"I figured."
"Bought the cop dinner and he brought me the delivery. I could have gone, but I'm tired."
"Ok, Jay." Chess replied, pouring Jess some juice. He set the plate and juice in front of her as she took a seat.
"See her?" Jess asked, pointing at Chess's back as he walked across the room for his own pizza. "There's Julia, right there by the rock." Jess sounded insistent, but Jay shrugged it off and Julia squinted at him.
"I can't see it." Julia sighed.
"Told ya." Chess mumbled at Jess.
"No, I mean I can't see it. Come here." Julia replied, reaching her hand to him. He stepped in front of her and she spun him around with hot hands. She looked more closely. "I see, but I don't know."
"Oh, come on. Jay, you've seen it a couple times, and the drawing. Why would I let Gun tat her on me?"
"I'm not saying he did, man." Jay shrugged, picking up his water bottle.
"Not too many redheaded white girls wandering the Arabian peninsula is all I'm saying, Chess." Julia argued as she squinted at his back while he walked around the table.
"Julia, come on with the eyes. Will you admit you got issues and just let me make an appointment with the eye doc?"
"Insurance cover that, King?" She asked as Chess took a bite of pizza.
"No wonder you didn't shoot any zoms, you can't see to shoot accurately." He accused her.
"Not true. We told you why we chose knife over gun." She denied that as he continued to eat.
Chess rolled his eyes, finished swallowing the pizza. "Julia Fry wore glasses." He announced, whispering like she would hear him. He got up, pizza triangle in hand and he walked in the living room to his pack that sat by the front door. "Couldn't see for shit. Know how hard it is to find contacts in a zombie apocalypse?" He asked as he returned to the table. He slid a glasses case across the table to Julia. "Little one was vain when it came to her pretty face. Try em on." He ate his pizza and Julia opened the leather case. To her surprise, Chess wasn't kidding. "She took out the lenses before we went to bed in Rochester." He motioned at Julia with pizza in hand. "You can't fucking see."
She slid the glasses on her face and adjusted them over her ears. "I am not vain about my pretty face, I guess." She mumbled as she gave her spectacled eyes a tour around the Morgan kitchen.
"You don't know how to put in contacts, Jules. Do you? I got them. They're in the bag too." He asked seriously. "Know it all."
Julia picked up her cell and turned the camera's eye toward her. She eyed herself in the black framed glasses. "Goth chic." She murmured, making a duck face at the camera. "I like them. They'll be alright."
"Oh, cool, you look all trendy." Jess gushed enthusiasm, trying to sound encouraging and positive. For the time being, she had forgotten about her mom and her problems and her sadness. Having friends around her meant a lot, especially the originals sitting at a table acting normal. Jess needed normal. Jess needed people around her.
"Librarian type of sexy." Jay laughed. "I never saw her wear specs." Jay told Chess. All the time they'd passed at each others' side, he'd never seen her in glasses and she never complained about a sight issue.
"Never saw her squint either, did ya?" Chess shrugged.
"Wouldn't have cared if she wore glasses or contacts. It's not that big a deal."
"Agreed. She was the one with the issue, not us. That would upset her having people know." He picked up the next slice of pizza and then signed into his email, clicking the link that brought them to the incident report. "Fill it in block by block till it's done. Don't skip a block or it won't let you sign and submit the fuckin thing."
The incident report was a monotonous computer form that detailed every bit of information someone in the military could possibly think of. "Addy and D.O.I. should already be filled in. If it's incorrect, then fix it." Chess said, propping his feet up and looking at the screen with them.
"Addy? D.O.I.?" Julia asked.
"Address and date of incident, Jules." He nodded at the screen as Julia started typing info in boxes. It was a self explanatory form and laid out easy enough for a basic grunt with a high school education to fill in. These forms were relatively new to the field. The incident reports were generated from an incident investigation secondary to the Rochester incident specifically. Prior to that, there were team members questioning the moral and ethical actions they took in regards to incident protocols and disposal of the dead. There were team members who put in transfer requests and settled for over seas and active engagements to dealing with and disposing of the dead. Chess thought they were all getting off easy hunting and disposing of the dead compared to the middle east or another distant part of the world. Their entire squad ran like a 9-5 job, a livable pay, decent benefits and they got to leave and go home every night, lead a normal life, have a family. Sure, they were on call 24/7 and some days blurred together depending on the number and severity of incidents, but honestly it was a cushy job. Any and all members could be pulled to active war if need be, but for the most part, no one complained. Rochester sealed the deal for him, taking a leave post incident and being forced to see a shrink on leave. He believed he was out when the lab incident occurred. He was so close to being out, discharged because he couldn't wrap his head around the delusion and secrecy any more. Rochester incident forced the military to become accountable. The fact he gave mercy to children was a necessary evil, but killing an innocent human being to spin a story and pin the blame, it ate at him and the other members of his team. It all became too much to handle.
"What caused this incident to happen and how do we prevent this from ever happening again?" He asked as Julia and Jayson both stared at the screen. Neither knew the answers, but he did. "Bet you wish Cookie Fields was here right now, don't you?" Chess had to get his digs in. Cook knew the answers. Cook usually came up with their answers. "Blame, people. Who do we blame?" He asked seriously. "See this is where Cook would come in handy, right? You had so much to say about her and her job-"
"Personal. It was personal." Julia insisted.
"Yeah, but she faced a constant, unending, malicious criticism from you. What would Cookie do?" He asked with a little more authority. "Not once did you ever see this from our point of view." Neither spoke and both listened as they had never been grilled by Chess before. All the explaining and communicating he did while drunk with Julia on the phone had fallen on deaf ears. He had gone over each incident in the early days, then pulled back and talked with his team. Julia could comprehend killing the dead, but she couldn't comprehend doing his job under the circumstances he faced. He didn't want or need criticism, because morally she didn't stand for what his team was doing in the field. Most of it was classified and he had to make wide generalizations, but the Rochester incident he laid out for her, omitting nothing. "These protocols were all put in place following the Rochester incident." He admitted as she and Jay looked at the screen uncomfortably.
"Um, so what's the answer?"
"You tell me. It's your job."
"Um, the virus-"
"What virus?" Chess asked quickly.
"The Z virus."
"So where can I get more information about the virus? How is it spread? How do I get it and how do I keep my kids from getting it? How do I know if I have it?" He asked Julia specifically, because Jayson never harassed him like Julia had. Jayson accepted the virus and the job for what it was, not Julia.
"Um, I-"
"So what caused it?"
"Chess," Jay said under his breath, seeing Julia was turning a shade of red that signaled she would soon cry. Her breathing quickened and she looked like she would burst into tears from being grilled.
"A virus." She answered through a breaking voice.
"Julia, the job that Cookie did saved everyone a lot of grief from people in the public. She prevented panic. She's very good at what she does, and even though you don't agree with it, people believed her when she explained a teenager with a gun shot his best friends or a dad went nuts and killed his family or a dude went crazy and killed his coworkers, or better yet, a classroom full of third graders. Now, though, because of Philly, people like me and Cook don't have to lose our damn minds anymore." He looked at the computer screen and he typed in the virus' official name. "Classified, don't ever repeat it. Really, it'll get you killed." He turned the lap top back to Julia. "People like me don't have to walk into a house or a workplace and kill innocent human beings to spin a story. The truth is what we write, no more sugar coating it." He explained, making it sound simple. "It's out there, in the public's news feeds and on everybody's face book page and on CNN, the local news. You're welcome. That's what me and Jody did. "
"So how do we prevent this from ever happening again?" She asked, wiping a few tears from her cheeks.
"Oh, that's easy. Write 'pending', because eventually, we'll have a cure or a vax."
"How do you know that?" Jess asked curiously.
"She's sitting right there with her vaccinated self, Jess."
Julia wrote pending and moved on to the next section, which was even more tedious than the last sections. A list of every single victim's name and specific information about them. They had 45 bodies in the theater.
"Oh, come on." Jay groaned, pushing away from the table.
"For real." Julia groaned in a similar fashion.
Accountability, documentation to the nth degree. Jay read off the info as she requested it and typed it in the spaces according to each victim. It took nearly an hour. As they worked through the list, though, they were both on point with the specific information requested.
"So, when you're in the field, your brain is geared toward responses to these questions." Chess explained. "It becomes second nature." He added. He pointed at the screen. "Ok, now click that box with the I agree bullshit and then hit submit." Luckily for the two of them, they filled in all the boxes appropriately. Had they not accomplished it in full, the system would have given them a list of errors.
Once submitted, Chess, took over the lap top and clicked the link for his own specific incident. He had fewer dead and he knew the info off the top of his head from experience in the field. Some people wrote novels filling out the incident reports. He chose short, sweet and to the point. He opted to give short, few word answers. Someone did review each and every incident. Someone would be reviewing the Kensington incident in its entirety and possibly face congressional hearings in regards to that one incident that had unprecedented documentation, not only from those who were there and lived it, but those who responded and survived, those who lived in the neighborhood, those who fought off the dead street by street and lived to tell anyone and everyone who would listen the story. Fortunately Chess only had 15 victims and his version of events only lasted a short 45 minutes before he hit I agree and submit.
Julia and Jayson kept Jess entertained while he worked and listened in tandem. He listened as she itemized all her fears and worries about the future. She didn't fall apart while they had this conversation. She kept her emotions in check. He'd reassured her and loved her and tried to make her realize she wasn't alone.
"We will go see Mr Manganelli tomorrow and we'll make all the arrangements. I told you all of this, Jesslyn."
"I know, I know."
"Where are we sleeping? The basement?" Jay asked, looking toward the basement entrance. Technically their entire group should be under some sort of quarantine, including Tavin, but Chess had let him disappear the night before with the nurse who signed the death certificates. He'd never come back. In fact, he had gone home altogether, preferring to monitor himself as usual. He also had to go to work. His life, as Tavin had told Jay, still had to go on.
"I'd say the basement. You could room with us or in alien headquarters if Ray will let you in there. You know he still doesn't trust you, Jayson."
"I don't know what I did or I would try and fix it." Jay said. He had thought about it several times, had asked Ray straight out what it was that he didn't like or trust. He never could elaborate. He'd only say that he was going to try to hurt Julia, defile her, humiliate her, ruin her, harm her or a myriad of other shameful and despicable acts one person could perpetrate on another human being. He got tired of trying to convince Ray otherwise, so he gave up.
Once in the basement, they realized Ray had crashed down there and found him knocked out on the sofa in front of the big screen. They climbed back out of the dark basement and up one more flight of stairs where Ray's alien headquarters became an open option, because Julia and Jay didn't want to room in with anyone. In fact they would have chosen the sofa in the living room over Chess's bedroom.
"We're not kids anymore." Jay chided her like she had protested this when she clearly didn't care where she went to bed.
Once inside alien headquarters, she side stepped all the crap Ray had collected and deposited in his room. Piles of paper back and hard back books, notebooks, dry erase boards with information only Ray could understand. On the ceiling above the bed hung an alien poster poked with tiny holes. Whitish-gray and big, black bug eyes stared downward as alien hovered above the bed. All Ray's research and information was paper based because those monitoring him could not monitor him on a paper based system. Made perfect sense to Julia. If the government was watching you, then that would be as off grid as one could get. Any on line websites he visited were a ruse to throw off the MIB that pursued and monitored him.
"Wow, look at all this shit. Please, don't touch anything."
"I'm not touching a damn thing." He replied, getting creeped out by the strange quality of the whole room devoted to MIB and alien activity. How Ray kept from completely losing his mind was evident in all the paper and books and cork boards with Xerox copies tacked to them. "Think he's got a girl?" Jay asked, amazed by the conspiracy theory that played out before his eyes.
"Who would come in here to fuck?"
"Coming in here to fuck you." He mumbled. "It's a possibility." Jay turned off the light as Julia peeled her light cotton hoodie over her head and the cami followed. He closed the door and then saw another odd switch by the door. "What's this one do?" He asked aloud, flipping the switch before she could argue reasons not to flip it. The room suddenly bathed in a black lighting. Julia stood by the bed and pulled off her shorts. Standing nude across the room from him, his jaw dropped at the sight of her with her hair down, goth glasses on her face and her body literally glowing beneath the black light. Julia Morgan Keller looked as alien as the ones Ray was studying. "You're glowing." He pointed at her where she stood. Her scars lit up under the light for some reason. She looked strange but awesome at the same time.
"Ah, I see you like alien girl." She cooed in a soft and inviting voice. "My species, you know, is unfamiliar with human sexual behavior." She had only been joking with him, but she sounded so good and looked equally as inviting. He started peeling off his own clothes while alien female touched her breasts.
"Human form for a human male." He laughed quietly.
She moved her hand over her body and reached between her legs where she pleasured herself, working herself up to a "human orgasm". She hummed as she came, and when she withdrew her hand, the moisture glowed if only slightly on her hand and her thighs. "Taste it." He instructed her and she did, moving her hand to her mouth and sucking on each sticky finger. He'd noticed recently that Julia's sexual tastes had evolved since the switch into the scarred skin across from him. He never knew what to expect and she preferred edgy activities, forceful, restrictive. This alien chick in front of him was no different as he dominated her, pinned her legs so her knees were at her ears, and he was told harder, faster, to hurt her. Before and after, when he thought about it, it bothered him. During, it was satisfying beyond words. A few weeks prior, she would never want him pinning her down, restraining her in any way and he was never to violate the golden rule, do not touch her hair. She had guided him into this new sexual activity. Not like he'd never taken part in it, just not with her. Perhaps he was always too sensitive with her because of her past, but all this had been her brilliant idea. A change for the better whereas they'd been together on and off for years and the sex was never fresh and exciting anymore, just the standard.
"Ah, very good, human." She hummed in his ear, licking and biting his lobe, which sent little shivers through him. She stretched out her legs and he fell between them. She pushed gently at his shoulders, an urgent little moan, but that direction she pushed him, he declined with a firm no.
"Not going there, babe. No." He shook his head as she glowed a soft white beneath him.
"He would do it." She giggled, pointing at the alien poster above the bed.
Chess slipped out of the bedroom and down the steps to the sofa where he could sit and think in peace. Bottle of whiskey in hand, he fully intended on finishing it. The days were long and the coming days would be easier on him and his family now that the incidents had died down and they could breathe. Rolling from one scene into another reminded him of the old days when he worked legitimately for a living. It was exciting, more so than the usual crimes he committed. Julia was right, it was the only thing that made him feel alive, that he had blood coursing through him. In taking someone's life, he felt alive. He could completely understand Julia's mental state. What he did to keep himself in check and not go over the edge and pull the trigger or swallow the bottle of pills or completely get reckless with his life and actions, he couldn't figure it out. Of course Layla's pending arrival made a slight difference to him, but anything could happen to him while he was out in the streets or doing a job for the government. The fact that he could very possibly die on a daily basis from his line of work glared him in the face. He had prepared for that. He had made arrangements with his lawyer for an instance where he was no longer available, either criminally or permanently. He didn't plan on spending the rest of his life killing or dealing drugs. He did have goals and in a few years, those goals would be reached. He just had to hang in there a little longer.
Disturbances were a regular thing in the Morgan household. Julia descended the steps and passed him, heading to the fridge. Oblivious to his presence as she rummaged through the fridge. Her hands held the half empty bottle of wine his mother had opened the night before. She looked at it, thought about it. Cork was half out of the bottle's neck. He'd tucked it way in the rear of the fridge. Out of sight, out of mind. He couldn't trust her. As her hand reached for the cork, he spoke up, "My mother will kill you." Mommy had a few rules that she set and messing with her wine would violate her golden rule. It was a lesson he learned early on in life when he and Hayley drank half and replaced the missing contents with water. When mommy threw the bottle at his head, ducked it and it shattered on the wall above the table, he got the point. When she beat his ass, he got the point and when he cleaned up the mess, he further got the point. "It's not that you're an alcoholic, it's that she's a worse one. Don't touch her wine."
Julia nearly jumped out of her host's skin when he spoke. It had been a simple warning, no accusations or judgment and he told her as much as he held up the bottle of whiskey. Incidents had been filled out and signed and submitted, the non girlfriend had been comforted and loved.
"But who comforts Chess?" She shrugged, taking a soda and closing the fridge door.
"No body."
"Exactly." She sighed, walking to the sofa. She took the bottle from his hand and took a swallow, then like he'd done earlier, took a swallow of her soda, which washed the bad taste out of her mouth. She glanced at the stairs. "Jess sleeping?"
"Yes, is Jay?"
"Would I be standing here with a bottle in my hand if he wasn't?" She snapped at him.
He watched her take another swallow then chase it with soda. He nearly mentioned, as she took another drink, that Jay had a nearly full bottle of vodka in his pack. He held back though, because he couldn't control the amount she drank if he wasn't sharing. "You know she doesn't have a tolerance level and you're gonna get shit faced really fast."
"Cheers, then, to building a tolerance level." She held his bottle toward him and he grasped it before she drank more of it. "Drinking isn't fun anymore. Remember when it used to be fun?"
"I do." He answered, taking a swallow. This late, he didn't follow it with anything else. It burned going down. "More?" He asked, taking another swallow. He held her the bottle and she took it without a second thought.
"Last shot, daddy." She smiled, then gulped and chased. She handed the bottle back to him. "She's cute. I heard her call you daddy."
"It's-" He looked around them, making sure they were alone. "Kinda creepy. Julia, I know she doesn't mean anything by it, but damn."
"She's happy, Chess, all things considered of course. Leave her have her baby and her feelings and express herself."
"I am. I do."
"As she falls madly in love with the boy across the street." Julia teased him. "Again." She giggled. She drank some more soda, still tasting the whiskey. Whiskey breath and then laying next to Jayson, he'd be disappointed if he woke up. He'd lecture her, if he woke up. He'd get anxious, if he woke up. He'd feel guilty for falling asleep, if he woke up. He'd feel like it was his fault she drank, like he wasn't good enough, close enough, understanding enough, if he woke up. Jay didn't realize he couldn't keep her from drinking and whatever he did or didn't do didn't factor into the reasons why she drank. She drank..."Why do you drink?"
"Cause this world is fucked up and I don't like living in it, thinking about it or dealing with it. So when I am done handling it, I want to forget it."
"Oh, Ok. Why'd you start drinking?"
"Like way back in the day? To make me feel good."
"Me too."
"Does it though, make you feel good?"
"Yes." He answered. "And no. Depends on the circumstances. What are you getting at?"
"That it's not physical need, it's my brain. Cause even though I switched shells, the need is still there. It's the brain not the physical body." She replied. "So how do I fix my brain?" She turned from him and fetched a left over cold piece of pizza from the box.
He didn't respond and wondered if she truly wanted him to answer or speculate, because he had no idea or he would have done it by now. In fixing her brain, he'd think about fixing his own brain. What would he be qualified to do if there were not people living and dead to exterminate? He had no education, no skills, which brought him back to the same issue he had when he faced high school graduation. The same nervousness about the world around him. The only thing he knew how to do was not a legal, hiring position. He'd be faced with the question he'd heard all his formative life from peers, family and friends, what do you wanna do when you grow up? Killing off his fellow man had never been the answer. He fell into his work like he fell into his girlfriends, by chance. Right place at the right time, wrong place at the wrong time. This honestly all led back to Jayson shooting him in his head, Julia getting shot in her head and back, Hayley getting shot in the head. His life was built on death, his own and then the death of others. His morality and his beliefs and his ties to family and friends all stemmed from that one moment in time when Jay's brain went haywire. That part of his life, he chose not to think about, work out or work through. The closeness he had with these people, the link or bond that held them together stemmed from the aftermath of Jay's actions. It served to tear them apart, but it backfired and brought them all eerily closer together, forming an unbreakable bond that outside of their doomsday group that no one understood. There were people on the fringes, Tavin and Kelly and to a degree Jesslyn, who understood, but couldn't completely fathom the connections. Chess was the first to admit their connection was strange. From the outsider's standpoint, Julia Morgan should not be sharing whiskey from the same bottle. Any normal person would have severed the connection and moved on and started over with an entirely new person.
"You don't understand, Julia." He sighed, taking a drink. He fixed the blanket over his body and rested his head back on the back of the sofa. Julia felt the effects of the alcohol by this point, so getting her to think would be hit or miss. "You always say we don't understand you, but I don't think you understand us most of the time."
"I'm usually right though."
"If you were right about everything, then your life wouldn't fall apart as much as it does. None of this, where we sit right now, would be happening."
"It's all my fault."
"No." He paused. "We're not on the same page here, Julia, and I don't feel like..." Having a connection with you anymore. "Bringing you onto the same page."
She frowned in the darkness of the living room. "I see. I understand."
"Understand it's been a bad fucking week and we move on. Simple as that." He stopped the conversation before they got off on their feelings about the universe. Chess wanted to be alone, drown himself in whiskey and pass out on his mom's sofa. Simple...he thought. He handed her the bottle for one last drink, drown the troubles and sorrows, sleep good, then wake up in the morning to a new day with different disasters.
She accepted the drink, finished her pizza and left him without another word. Back to Jayson.
Bright and early the next morning, Chess had gone to Jess's house and he gathered her belongings she'd requested the previous night. Drunk, he may have been, but he recalled each and every item on her list, packing it in a small bag he took from the rear of her bedroom door. Taking a good look around Jess's first floor, there were things askew and knocked over. Louann had turned and obviously had stumbled through the bottom level of the house. He had no desire to clean the place and didn't feel comfortable asking one of his people to do it, so he dialed a cleaning place he found on line that cleaned up after crime scenes and he made an appointment with them to disinfect and clean the lower level of the two story home. It appeared that Louann hadn't been upstairs, but he pulled the linens from her bed and stuffed them in the basket of clothes by the window. Burn it...he believed that the best course of action, so he stepped out in the back yard and he burned it all in the fire pit in the rear of Jess's lawn.
"Jesus, that pools green." He remarked as he lit a joint and watched the pile burn. Once that turned to ash, he took to the bathroom and he scrubbed the surfaces with bleach and threw out all the personal care products. Since he was upstairs, he scrubbed down the surfaces in the bedroom as well. He left Jesslyn's room alone, then moved on to the kitchen, scrubbing that as well. Since he was moving along like a cleaning crew, he figured what did he need them for, and continued through the living room, wiping all surfaces, concentrating his efforts on the front door. When he finished, he sprayed all the furniture with Lysol spray. It appeared as if Louann had turned, then followed a path to the street out front where all Ray's commotion of gunfire had drawn her. He took down and then tossed the blind and curtain from the door in the trash, making a mental note to replace it and what he'd burned from upstairs. He had so many thoughts running through his head at that moment, the work at hand kept him busy and kept him from going crazy. Physical activity worked out all the negativity and bad energy surrounding the aftermath of the chaos on his block. He took down the police tape from the front door, scrubbed the outside of it and then the rest of the clean up would be in someone else's hands. If it would only rain...Chess mused, then no work at all would need to unfold out there. A good rain...he was distracted by the message tone on his cell overriding the music he had playing. Jess...where are you?
His day officially began dropping baby mama's bag off in his room. While he waited for her to get herself together, physically and emotionally, he canceled the appointment he made with the clean up company. He spent 3 hours in her house scrubbing and their services were no longer necessary, but a good rug cleaning and furniture cleaning wouldn't hurt, so he made an appointment with an entire different company to give him an estimate for their services. He then called Mr Manganelli and alerted him that he and Jess would stop by that morning.
"Please, yes, she's ready and taken care of. Whenever you get here, have my secretary find me." Uncle Dom said.
Chess took her to breakfast at the new diner on 10th. Since the zombie virus outbreak a year ago, they'd remodeled all of tenth street. One street over from Main, which led to the Square, it was all businesses and a couple residential homes that didn't burn when the area was set ablaze by the military. It was a hipper and cheaper version of the square that aimed at youth and their wallets as opposed to an older clientele, complete with a restaurant-bar, a bar, tattoo parlor, a couple five and dimes, a small art studio. Chess liked the way it was rebuilt. At the end of tenth, it merged with Main and then the memorial stood at the entrance to Shade's park, lake and rec area, which had also undergone a complete overhaul and reconstruction. Maverick's money paid for this rebuild and renovation of the area. Donations poured in from all over the state. It was, after all, a state of emergency, a disaster, a ruptured gas main, killing and mutilating citizens and then burning an entire block and half the park to the ground. No zombies. Some knew better, some saw the scene unfold with their own eyes and didn't take that explanation as gospel. All forms of cell and computer technology had shut down with the push of a button. But he had not been there to witness it and neither had the rest of their family. They all jumped to the flip side.
Mrs. Decker showed him and Jess to Dominic Manganelli's office and sat them in comfortable leather chairs in front of an ornately carved desk. Spotless, impeccably clean, the entire office shined. Uncle Dom appeared as impeccably clean as his office, dressed in a fine suit, gold rings across several fingers, the gold cross around his neck. He had switched personalities and Chess wasn't sure which one he played better. The concern and the professionalism he displayed went beyond words, offering his sympathies and condolences to Jesslyn and her family.
He maneuvered through Jess's emotional state, he gathered enough information to form a respectable obituary and then decipher her wishes for a viewing and funeral. He knew what questions to ask to glean specific information and when he was finished, he guided her from his office to the hall to the wall of urns. There was an array of urns to choose from, large to small and all shapes, sizes, colors, metal to stone encasements. He informed them he had a book of urns in case the wall of urns didn't offer enough choices.
"Choose one, any on of your liking." Uncle Dom said in a soft and caring voice.
Chess restrained himself from laughing when Jesslyn pointed to an urn on the third shelf and said, "I like the egg." Its official name was the Grey Goose and Uncle Dom reached up and removed it from the shelf. A goose egg shaped urn made of solid stone, what element he was unsure.
"You sure, Jess? That's the one?" Chess held back laughter. For some odd reason the egg, which looked exactly like a goose egg, struck a chord in him. Odd choice for an odd girl. He wouldn't put his mom in any egg for all eternity, he knew that for sure.
Uncle Dom led them both back to the office where he tied up loose ends. An obituary would be in the following morning's newspaper as well as the Manganelli website, he would contact and make arrangements with the church Louann attended every Sunday. He'd set up the entire service in the church setting as Jess preferred even though he offered his facilities. Finally he brought up financials, which set Jesslyn off into a tizzy. The financials were as of yet undetermined. Jess explained her situation, swore she'd pay every dime she owed once the financials were figured out. She and mom had only just began that and they couldn't go inside the house yet. Jess gave excuses and finally Mr Manganelli held his beefy hand to them in the air. "There is no charge. I will contact you once I have spoken with the Pastor." He glanced quickly at the notes he'd taken. "Pastor Ellis." This left Jess confused, but grateful and she thanked him numerous times.
Chess sent Jess to the lobby to wait for him and stayed behind with Uncle Dom. He thanked him and Dominic Manganelli spoke, "You called us. You could have called anyone. Thank you, Morgan." He shook Chess's hand and on the way out of the office. "Any future problems, I'd appreciate another phone call. My family is very eager to meet the needs of Maverick and the surrounding counties."
"Sure, no problem. Definitely. Thanks." Chess agreed.
He felt fairly sure that this was a business deal, a 'you scratch my back I'll scratch yours' kind of deal. But the work Uncle Dom and his family had done was professional from the jump. He had fully intended on calling them for any and all future incidents. He had no idea if he'd be involved in any, but if he were, then the Manganelli's would be on his speed dial. The people he'd dealt with all gave positive reviews on the funeral and cremation service thus far. Dom seemed genuine and he also was a business man. Either way, Jess walked out of there without having to pay a dime, which was generous, but Chess had put thousands into his family's bank account in one night's time.
Having wrapped that up, he took her home. He spoke with the cleaning service and arranged a time to have her carpets and furniture cleaned. He took care of business and all he wanted was a drink.
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