Breeds 2 (33 page)

On a related note, mystery still surrounds the whereabouts of several naked survivors of the mall attack, all of whom had been found unresponsive with life-threatening wounds. They were being transported to the city hospital for immediate medical attention, but their ambulances never arrived. The ambulances were later discovered parked on the side of the highway, their lights turned off and the first responders in mass shock. EMT personnel claim that their patients became fully animate mid-transit and quickly overpowered them. Eyewitness accounts reported several suspects dressed in paramedic uniforms carrying away bodies upon leaving the parked vehicles. Police report that investigations are ongoing into the whereabouts of these missing individuals, and that anyone with information as to their identity and location is strongly encouraged to contact the authorities.

The surviving wardens lay low for the remainder of the week.

The mood at Kirk’s apartment was one of muted sadness as some of the law bringers, far too gone to safely regenerate for fear of rising as another Bailey, had to be put down. Sam Mausler had been torn apart by Bailey and his bleeding body had been the hardest to conceal while returning to the apartment. Ken Cyler had also been brutalized, his head flattened. Janice Glover’s own head had been half crushed, resulting in her being put to final sleep with a silver blade. Kirk remembered their brief conversations while picturing her plain but attractive features, liking her perhaps most of all. Nick Dyer stood by her unmoving form as Carma administered the killing blow, and even though he mostly kept his emotions in check, flickers of misery leaked through around the edges.

After that, phone calls were made and meals were prepared.

For the first day, Morris was the only one in any shape to complete the several tasks around the apartment. The beds and sofa were filled with the regenerating
weres
, and Morris walked amongst them, guarded them, with an air of reluctant duty. Kirk could see it. Anyone could.

Sleep eventually suppressed the buzz-saw pain of Kirk’s eye, and the Halifax warden knew nothing until the next morning, He opened his eyes and realized with a mix of relief, awe, and several strong blinks that his missing eye had regenerated. He paused at the edge of his bed, rose, and walked out into the kitchen.

Morris was at the front door, leather trench coat covering his broad shoulders. The Pictou warden rolled his eyes when Kirk noticed him.

“Hoping to make a clean getaway?” Kirk whispered.

“No hope needed,” Morris answered. “Watch.”

“Hey, before you go, thanks for everything.”

Morris stood and considered that, the darkness of the hallway lending his hard features an almost poster-like quality. “If it wasn’t for me, none of this would’ve happened. If I’d bagged that bastard in the first place, Janice and the others would still be alive. And none of these other bastards or the head bitch would know of my miraculous healing abilities. Or yours.”

Kirk didn’t comment.

“You’re better,” Morris pointed out and cracked open the door. “You got the watch. I’m gone.”

“Okay.”

“Seeya around.”

“You heading home?”

Morris stopped on the threshold. “Don’t know yet. Figure it’s best to stay low to the ground for a little while. Maybe just think. Everything I said to you? That all needs more thinking. A lot more. You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe I will.”

Morris smirked.

“You have my number,” Kirk reminded him, letting him know a call would be welcome.

Morris’s brow wrinkled in a frown. He left without another word, closing the door with a soft bang. A wry smile spread across Kirk’s face. He expected no less.

Thoughts turned to breakfast.

“He’s gone?”

Kirk turned to see a disheveled Carma standing in the hall, fresh from the spare bedroom. She wore jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt. Hair partially hid her sleepy eyes. The side of her face was a swollen mass of angry purple, but even now Kirk could see it had gone down a little since last night. She was lucky she had an exceptionally tough skull.

“Yeah,” he answered. “You up now?”

“No.”

“How you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Carma yawned. “You got your eye back.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I did. Works, too.”

“You got kitchen duty,” Carma informed him. “And guard duty.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be expecting steak and eggs. Around ten-ish.”

Kirk nodded.

“Good. See to it, temple-slave.”

Temple slave
. That brought him back years, when he and she were more than what they were now.

“Carma.”

She stopped.

“You… wanna talk? About anything?”

Carma regarded him, the busted side of her face hidden in shadow. “About what?”

Kirk faltered.

“That snuggle at the mall?” She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Douglas. Don’t get hooked on that. Think about steak and eggs. Ten-ish. Chop-chop. Quicker we’re fed the quicker we’re all outta here. Including me. Like a bat outta hell.”

She left him standing in the hall.

The next day a disposal crew stopped by early in the morning and carried away the body bags containing the dead wardens. Nick Dyer followed the black sack carrying Janice Glover and did not return.

The day slunk along, heedless of the slow-moving hours. A watchful Kirk sat in the living room most of the time, ignoring the snores from Ian Bryce, who slept on the floor behind the sofa, his throat badly bruised as if he had been strangled by a length of steel cable. Somehow, the cramped space and being partially out of sight made him feel secure. He couldn’t talk at all, and could only drink his meals, which made for the loudest time in the morning since Kirk had to heap everything into a blender. Kirk didn’t care, as long as the dog was up and moving around soon. Ezekiel had even started talking the night before, showing disappointment at how events played out, and indicating he’d be strong enough to travel in a day or so.

Carma appeared from the spare room every four or five hours, rising to use the bathroom. She didn’t look in Kirk’s direction, and the second time he didn’t react to her at all, sending his own message. He could ignore a person as well, no problem. But his defiance eventually rusted away to a melancholy frame of mind.

He spent the night at the window, watching the traffic rush by like low-flying comets.

The gray light straining through the drawn curtain roused Kirk to another day. He rubbed his face, realizing he’d fallen asleep. With a grunt he got to his feet, entirely healed, and puttered into the kitchen to prepare the first meal of the day. He fried up steak and eggs, making the mental note to eat nothing but granola for the next ten years. The snap, sizzle, and smell from the frying pan would draw the others. Kirk prepared a plate, slopped a pair of eight-ounce steaks and a hill of eggs onto it, and then dumped the works in a nearby blender. The loud grind of the machine made him wince.

Once done, he poured the contents into three beer mugs and carried them into the living room.

Bryce pulled himself out from behind the sofa like some great serpent. He slunk to the coffee table’s corner, sniffed at the food, and drank slowly. He fixed Kirk with the evil eye all the while.

Kirk knew what was going through his mind. He ignored it and returned to the kitchen. On the way, he glanced toward the closed door where Carma slept.

The door, while closed, was open just a crack. He hadn’t noticed that before. He stopped, hesitated, and pushed it open with a finger.

Carma was gone.

Bed made. No note.

The bus would take Carma to New Brunswick, and from there, she intended to reclaim her car from the terminal’s parking lot and drive all the way back to her territory. She settled back into her seat as the bus pulled away from the station. About half the bus’s burgundy seats were filled. Carma sat three rows from the back and propped her head up on the nearby sill while watching the Halifax cityscape blur by her window, keeping pace with her thoughts. A light snow had fallen, dusting the concrete and steel in feather white.

Minutes later, Carma reached into her coat and pulled out her cell phone. She hefted it, then flipped it open. The number she called she’d called many times before, and already called the morning after the battle at the mall. The elder had ordered her to make contact after she’d left Halifax.

She let the call go through, three times, before hanging up.

A short time later, her phone buzzed.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she answered.

“You’re away?” the voice asked.

“Yeah.”

“How did Moses Morris look?”

Straight to the point
, Carma thought. “He looked fine. Took only scratches compared to the rest of us, but he healed pretty quick.”

“And Kirk?”

She stared at a passing fence of snow-topped trees, unsure if she should say anything more. In the end, she did. Reports were reports. “Kirk healed completely. Lost an eye one night and woke up with it replaced.”

The voice on the other end of the line paused for lengthy, thoughtful seconds, setting off Carma’s suspicions.

“Thank you, warden.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“The others are still at Kirk’s apartment. They’ll be leaving when they’re able.”

Another solemn pause. “Good.”

Carma thought of Janice being carried out in a body bag. She thought of Kirk. “Yeah.”

The elder cut the connection.

The bus shifted gears as Carma closed the phone and held it in a fist. Her fingers pinched at her lower lip in a pose of thought, and she looked out her window.

The frosty landscape sped by, hypnotizing.

At the other end of the broken connection, in a room swallowed whole by darkness, the elder lowered the smartphone to a knee and considered the warden’s report.

Morris.

And Kirk.

The elder didn’t dwell upon the pair of wardens, but he fumed at both of Bailey’s failures. The
were
executioner deserved to die. The problem still remained, however. A problem that still needed correcting. It was time for more direct action.

The phone lifted and the elder punched in a number not frequently called, but one he knew.

Three rings went through before a voice answered.

Those of you in the know will see some story details either omitted, simplified, fabricated or flat-out wrong.

I fess up to them all. Especially the ones related to police, weapons and equipment, and tactics.

And as always, thank you for reading.