Gun drawn, I walked through the snow. The whiteness seemed wrong in this place of death. It symbolized innocence and this place was anything but innocent. It had seen butchery, slaughter, and death. In my mind, they were not associated with whiteness.
Around me, I could hear Gabriel and Lucas moving. We had taken different routes, unsure what we would find. Their boots crunched on the snow. The crisp, cold layer on top had not yet started to thaw.
The trees threw long shadows on the ground. The branches grabbed at me, trying to tear at my face and hair, reminding me that I was an interloper, an unwanted guest. I pressed forward.
The woods were silent except our footsteps. No birds, no small mammals, nothing moved. The world seemed to have stopped. We had stepped into a vacuum that defied space and time. It felt as if the world were holding its breath, waiting for us to find the dead doctor.
There was nothing in the clearing. I entered it and lowered my gun. I had expected to find him, alive or dead. I checked the map as Gabriel and Lucas came into view. We all looked around.
Lucas frowned. Gabriel pulled out his own map. Together we compared them. We were in the right spot, but there was no sign of Dr. Henry Ericson. Not even footprints in the snow.
"Fruck!" I crumpled up the map.
"Chill," Gabriel said. "We just guessed wrong."
"That is the problem. We didn't find him," I said. "If he's not here, where is he and what is he doing?"
"I see your point," Gabriel said.
"Is he out killing more?" I asked.
"If he is, he could be anywhere," Lucas said.
Together we hiked back to the car. Gabriel started the engine. I stamped my feet, shaking snow into the floorboard.
"We've got him on a most wanted list, he can't get far," Gabriel said.
"Yeah he can, he has all of northern Alaska to hide in," I countered.
"It would be very hard to search all of Alaska for him," Lucas answered.
I shook my head, "Drop me at the morgue. Xavier will need some help, I am sure."
"You really aren't that much help in an autopsy," Gabriel told me.
"Oh, I know; he likes me there for living company, and he bounces crazy ideas off of me," I told him.
"Is that why he keeps taking you there?" Lucas asked.
"Yes, I know just enough about anatomy to be very dangerous," I said.
We arrived at the same time as the coroner's van. They unloaded the bodies of Hilary Ericson and Tucker Rybolt. I waited on them.
"We have another possible victim," Lucas said, rolling down the window to talk to me as I stood in the parking lot.
"Who?" I asked.
"Hilary's sister, Bell. Her husband just reported that Henry called him and threatened her. We're going to go check on it," Lucas said.
"Xavier can wait," I climbed back into the SUV.
We drove to the address. Police squad cars were already there. They were marking off the area. Near one of the cars, there was a state trooper shaking from head to foot.
The house was pretty, painted a light green with white shutters and wide front windows that let in tons of light or filled the yard at night from the inside. The front door had a window in it and showed no signs of being forced open. We entered the living room.
"What the hell?" Gabriel said.
The pretty pastel pink carpet was sucking in the drying brownish blood. Black spots dotted the floor around her feet. She wore pink house shoes, lined with fleece that made them look soft and fluffy. They too had suffered from the blood, soaking it in, tinting them with brownish streaks.
Her body was leaning back on the couch. Blood was pooled around her, filling the cushions. Like Arons, she'd been gutted. I breathed through my mouth.
"She has three wounds, one in back, two in front," someone said to Gabriel.
That's when I noticed her face. The cheek was turned away from me, but I could tell that the skin had been removed. The wound was deep enough that it had punctured the sinus cavity. There was a hole, almost perfectly round, in Bell Turner's face. Something that wasn't blood dripped from it. I forced myself not to gag. I could deal with blood, snot was a completely different story.
"He couldn't skin her, so he took her cheek as a souvenir," Lucas said.
"That's just wrong," Michael was still in the doorway, refusing to enter.
"Great, we know Ericson isn't still here, so where is he?" I asked.
"Watching?" Lucas suggested.
"No, too obvious. He's wanted and everyone knows what he looks like and what he's driving," Gabriel said.
"I should have just stayed at the morgue," I said.
"Well, you can ride back with the attendants," Gabriel told me.
"Ok," I waited outside. I lit a cigarette, the smoke burned in my throat.
"Xavier is going to be livid when you show up smelling like smoke," Lucas took the cigarette and took a drag.
"I keep telling him that I am not going to live long enough to get cancer," I said.
"Shit happens," Lucas shrugged.
The attendants began wheeling out the body. One of them looked at me. I had finished my cigarette, so I crushed it out on my boot and shoved the butt into my pocket.
The ride was quiet. I was stuck in the back with the dead Bell Turner. If I believed in zombies or any other form of undead, it would have been terrifying. Since I didn't, it was just disturbing. If I was going to be forced to deal with people, I preferred the living. This seemed to be in direct contrast to my personality, dead people didn't talk or make stupid statements. However, they made other noises, noises associated with living but were part of the decomposition process, like sighing. I found dead people creepy.
The van stopped. After a few seconds, the back doors were pulled open. I nearly rushed out the door. This time, I didn't wait for the attendants. I went in before them.
"Got another one," I said to Xavier, entering the room that said "Occupied".
"Killing spree?" Xavier asked, not looking up.
"Looking like it," I said.
"Was she skinned?"
"No, but she is Hilary's sister, and her cheek is missing. Finding anything?"
"Yeah, toxicology reports. The answers were there, they were just ignored because our serial killer was the attending coroner." Xavier sounded irritated.
"Here?" I asked.
"Yes, shoved in a drawer. I finally got curious about my surroundings and found them. The real ones, not the ones given to the police departments. He was scanning for it, but the results weren't being sent to the agents in charge or the police departments, they were being sent to him. Then he'd create a fake report and submit it to the police."
"Take a deep breath or you are going to blow a gasket," I told him. "Why would he scan for what he was using?"
"I don't know, my guess, he couldn't order it to not be tested for, it is standard in most tox screens to test for sedatives and illegal drugs," Xavier said.
"Seems careless to leave them lying around here," I frowned.
"Why? Who is going to search a morgue? Any of the other coroners would have just thought they were sending copies to the police departments. The police certainly weren't going to start opening drawers," Xavier huffed.
I walked over to the table where Hilary Ericson lay. Vacant holes where her eyes should have been, she was also missing lips, ears, and a nose. But then she was missing her hair and everything else as well.
"Are you alright?" I asked him.
"I'm fine, just tired," Xavier finally moved back from the body. He leaned against a desk. "I'm doing a little better with Hilary. She died around 8 p.m. This is going to disturb you, but my theory is she and Arons were both killed in the Ericson house. He butchered both of them in his bedroom. After he finished with Hilary, he reported her missing and then took Arons to your hotel room. That's where I hit a dead end. I know how she died, I don't know how he died."
"Well, we aren't having any luck either. He's disappeared."
"You'd think since everyone is searching for his car . . ."
"Oh, shit," I interrupted. "We're looking for the wrong car."
I dug out my cell phone and called Gabriel. He answered on the third ring.
"Stop looking for Ericson's car, start looking for Sheriff Rybolt's car," I told him.
"Yeah, we just found Ericson's. It's on fire in a city park, with another body. This one looks like it's been dead longer than the sister-in-law. Judge Rybolt had a cell phone call coming in about an hour and a half ago from Sheriff Rybolt's phone. And we confirmed that no one had informed her yet that her husband was dead. She drives here to meet her husband and Ericson, no idea why, he kills her and steals her car."
"From serial killer to spree killer?" I asked.
"Seems to be and the car swapping ensured that we were not going to find either his car or the sheriff's. The judge was killed simply for her car."
"Stop sending Xavier bodies, he's getting tired," I said and hung up.
"Another?"
"Sheriff Rybolt's wife, the judge that released me."
"Damn, they had a daughter, young daughter."
"Yep."
"I don't know what I'm looking for anymore. We know it's him, we have a mountain of evidence. I think I'll leave these for someone else," Xavier took off his mask and tossed it on a desk.
"I'll do it," the voice came through the door, ahead of the body. "Easier to make the evidence disappear."
I pulled my gun at the approaching figure.
"I wouldn't do that. I used ether on Arons, he's combustible," Dr. Ericson entered the room.
I looked at Xavier. He shrugged. I fired.
The room filled with fire. It exploded around us, turning the very air into flames. My lungs hurt as I left my feet. Xavier landed next to me.
The ceiling overhead was made of drop tiles. They instantly caught fire. I heard someone swear. It wasn't Xavier. I hadn't killed him, yet again.
"We need to get out of here," Xavier whispered to me.
"Is there a back exit?" I whispered back. He grabbed hold of me and began pulling me forward. We crawled across the floor. Smoke was filling the room. My eyes stung and watered. My nose was running. My throat hurt. Xavier passed something back to me. I took the cloth mask and put it on.
We reached a second door. Xavier knelt and opened it. We entered a freezer area. There were drawers lining the walls. The entire room was made of stainless steel, except the ceiling. It was also well sealed. The smoke didn't follow and an air system sucked the smoke that had gotten in up through a vent.
"You've been burned," I said as I gasped for air.
"So have you," he responded.
"Are we safe in here?"
"For a while, unless Ericson comes at us directly," outside there was an explosion and something slammed into the door. "Or we get buried alive."
"Told you I wouldn't live long enough to get cancer."
"This wouldn't have happened with just ether on a body. He's been slowly filling the place," Xavier shook his head.
"Might be why you are tired and cranky," I said. "When would he have time?"
"It's very easy to fill a room with ether," Xavier frowned, "especially if you arrange it ahead of time. He has full access to the morgue, it could be in the ventilation system."
The door might have been steel, but the ceiling wasn't. Smoke began to seep in through the ceiling area. It was quickly followed by fire.
"Help me find the empty drawers," Xavier said.
"I am not climbing onto a slab in a morgue," I told him.
"Would you rather burn to death?"
"I hate fire," I looked around. There was another option. I pushed on the steel door; it was warm to the touch, but not yet hot. I dropped to my knees. Behind me, Xavier swore, but I heard him following.
"You realize if the ceiling comes down, we die, right?" He yelled.
"Don't think negative thoughts," I yelled back.
We crawled to the hallway on our bellies. Both of us coughing and gasping with the effort. The hallway was engulfed in smoke. We continued crawling.
The glass entry door came into view. The glass was already broken out of it. I didn't bother to push it open; I crawled across the broken glass.
Outside, someone grabbed me and pulled me away from the building. I looked up and saw the morgue attendant. He frowned at me.
"Get the other," I coughed.
"I'm here," Xavier was trying to stand in front of me. He doubled over with a coughing fit. He spat black stuff onto the concrete. I looked at him. He was missing his eyebrows and his face was black.
"Do I look that bad?" I asked.
"No," the attendant told me. "Dr. Ericson did, but he got in a car and drove off anyway."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," I groaned.
"Fucking hell," Xavier spat again.
"Chances are good that if I have to shoot or stab him again, I am going to start enjoying it," I told Xavier.
"Get in line, girly," Xavier coughed some more.