Alexander Death(33)
“We're searching for a fugitive,” the Homeland Security man interrupted. “We don't want to give anyone advance warning.”
“Well, you're not doing a great job,” Seth said. “She hasn't been here in days.”
“Seth, just tell us where to find Jenny,” Dr. Reynard said. “That's all we want from you. Then these guys will leave your family alone.”
“I really don't know where she is right now. I already told them that.”
“When did you last see her?” the Homeland Security man asked.
“Thursday, I think,” Seth replied.
“Where?”
“We went swimming at the reservoir. We had a fight. I haven't seen her since. What is all this about, anyway?” Seth asked, though he was pretty sure he knew—two hundred dead bodies discovered on the town square of Fallen Oak, all of them festering with Jenny pox.
“We're asking the questions,” the Homeland Security man said. “Did she mention any plans? Where she might be going?”
“No. I'm surprised she wasn't at home. Hey, I don't know why you're here, but you must be looking for the wrong person. Jenny hasn't done anything illegal.”
Dr. Reynard's eyes narrowed. “I want to talk to him alone.”
“Not until he answers a few questions,” the Homeland Security man said.
She glared at him. “I'll get your answers.”
The man looked from her to Seth, then shrugged. “You got twenty minutes.” He stepped towards the double doors.
“These guys, too.” Dr. Reynard pointed to the two masked guards with their guns trained on Seth.
“I'm supposed to provide you security,” he said.
“Seth's not the threat,” Dr. Reynard. “Besides, you've got him restrained. Just leave the guards outside the door.”
He sighed. “It's your ass, doctor.” He waved, and the two masked men followed him out and closed the doors.
“This is pretty strange work for a doctor.” Seth smiled at her. He'd learned that a little flirting went a long way when he was dealing with older women.
“Where is she, Seth?”
“I really don't know.”
“Which is what you would say even if you did know,” Dr. Reynard said.
“True,” Seth replied. “But, lucky me, I don't even have to lie. I've been looking for her, too. Is she in some legal trouble?”
Dr. Reynard stared at him for a minute, then scowled. “Don't even give me that.”
“Give you what?”
“I know Jenny is an immune carrier of a fatal pathogen,” she said. “I know she killed two hundred people right here in your town, right in front of the courthouse. Don't bother putting on some show for me. Don't you care anything about those dead people? Their families?”
“I thought those people died from some kind of chemical leak,” Seth replied. “The news said so.”
“Don't be cute.”
“I can't help it.”
“Asshole!” Dr. Reynard stood up and paced along the dark paneled wall of the dining room. “I have more than two hundred corpses we're holding in deep freeze. I have some minor cases of the same disease—we picked those up in Charleston, so I know she was there Saturday night. So were you. We found the hotel on your credit card history.”
“I was just there for college orientation. You can probably find that out, too, since apparently nothing's private anymore.”
“And I have a couple dozen walking corpses. Want to explain that to me?”
“Walking corpses?” Seth asked.
“I'm getting tired of the stupid act, Seth.” Dr. Reynard tapped at her laptop, then turned it to face him.
On the screen, Seth watched a security camera video—black and white, date-stamped, the movements jerky because the camera clearly only took a couple of frames per second.
It was a wide corridor, probably in a hospital, judging by the beds stored against one wall. A longhaired young man in black sunglasses, a white T-shirt and jeans led a group of assorted other people. Something was wrong with how the rest of the group moved—sluggish, dragging their feet. Some of them had huge and obvious wounds in their heads or torsos, which looked like they should have been fatal. They each dragged a black body bag in one hand and held some kind of blunt object—broom handles, broken lighting fixtures—in the other.
“Here's something else you need to explain,” Dr. Reynard said. “Some guy walks into a morgue. He somehow animates a group of dead bodies, and they march out into the street. Later we find the bodies in a heap in an upper-class neighborhood in downtown Charleston. They didn't even bother climbing into their body bags for us.”