Chapter 51: Unsuspected
I headed straight for Nix and requested she send out Undertakers to collect Delilah, Percy, and Jean. I expected an argument, but all she asked for was a quick explanation of why, and then she complied. It took less than an hour for all three of my suspects to be gathered and placed into three separate empty offices. Once they were all secured, I went toward the first room, Delilah’s.
I opened the door, and found her sitting at a desk and looking afraid. When she saw me her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. I walked to the desk across from her and leaned against it, crossing my arms. I looked her over. She seemed afraid, and worried, but that would make sense whether she was guilty or not given the circumstances.
“Did you know?” I asked.
Her expression became confused. “Know what?”
“Did you know that Lydia was seeing other people?”
Her expression shifted from confused to angry and she showed her teeth. “What are you talking about?”
“Pott’s is big, but it’s not that big. Everyone knows each other, everyone grows up together as a part of it. You're telling me that in spite of all that you never heard a whisper, or a scrap of gossip about Lydia seeing two other people? A friend never came to you to let you know?”
Tears began to form in Delilah’s eyes as I spoke, and she responded through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.”
“What, you think I killed her?”
“No. You have an alibi. But let’s say you did find out, and you confronted her other lovers. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that you might work together after finding out you’ve been jilted.”
She scowled. “I would never work with them.”
I tilted my head. “But you did know about them.”
She took a breath and steadied her expression. “I did.”
“And Lydia was lying to you about them?”
She nodded.
I shook my head. People in the wastes were a mess, but at least they were relatively uncomplicated. She knew she was being cheated on and chose not to do anything about it. In the average waster settlement, they’d just have blown each other’s brains out in the middle of the street. Things were in some ways, blissfully uncomplicated out there.
I stood up from where I was leaning. “I believe you, but I’m going to talk to Lydia’s other two…friends, before I let you go.” I nodded at her, and walked out of the room. I could feel her gaze boring a hole into the back of my head, I couldn’t blame her, but I wasn’t here to make friends.
As I walked out of the room and went to open the next door. I heard a commotion coming toward me. Rhea, flanked by two other Undertakers, appeared in the hallway and approached me.
“There’s been another murder,” she said as soon as she reached me.
“Fuck.”
…
With my theories now in tatters, I fell in behind Rhea and the other undertakers as they led me to the new body. A second murder changed everything. Especially a second murder that occurred when the prime suspects for the first one were all being held. The killing had taken place relatively close to the first, near where we already were in the mausoleum. This time, the Undertakers had already cleared the streets around the body, and were standing guard to make sure no one interfered. They learned quickly.
I approached the body, to see Nix standing over it. She looked tired, and concerned. She moved wordlessly out of the way as I drew near.
The victim was once again a woman. She was wearing a dark red wrap, and several pieces of jewelry, all of which were covered in blood. Just like the first victim, I recognized deadman bite marks on several of the wounds. I searched around, and found a trail of blood once again leading to one of the domed roofs. This time, however, it was more obscured.
I turned to Nix. “When did they find her?”
“Less than an hour ago. The blood was fresh.”
I nodded. That basically cleared Lydia’s paramours of any wrongdoing. At least when it came to this murder. “Do we know who she was?”
Nix shook her head. “I don’t know her name, but I think she worked at a restaurant nearby. I remember seeing her last time I was at Repose.”
Another restaurant worker. My teeth began to itch, and I lifted a hand almost involuntarily to pick at them. I was missing something, something obvious. “I need to check on something.”
Nix nodded, and I left the alley, making my way straight for The Last Meal. It was busy, at this time of day, but everything slowed down as soon as I entered. I looked around and eventually saw Mel, peeking his head out of the kitchen. I walked into the back toward him, and he involuntarily shrank as I approached.
“Your meat. Who supplies your meat?”
“Uh, a butcher? He works just a few domes down.”
“Pete? The man with three fingers on one hand?”
Mel looked confused. “I’m pretty sure he has all five? At least he did last time I saw him.”
I left him standing in the kitchen, and started moving quickly to butcher Pete’s shop. He’d had all the right excuses, and no motives so I discounted the chance that he was the murderer. Somehow he’d lost two fingers in between when he’d murdered Lydia, and me interviewing him. Whether it was in the struggle with her, or he’d done it himself when he’d heard about the handprint that was left, it had worked out in his favor. The fact that the fingers looked like they’d been healed for days led me to believe he had some form of advanced healing, just as I did. That wasn’t even mentioning the size of the handprint he’d left.
I made my way into the butcher's, but saw no signs that Pete was there. I took a deep whiff of the air, and couldn’t detect anything beneath the scents of meat and blood. I unholstered my pistol, and began looking around more closely. There was meat behind the counter that was only partially cut, and had been left out. I moved behind the counter, and approached the stairs leading down into the cellar. I walked down, taking deliberate, careful steps, and keeping my nose and eyes open for Pete.
I didn’t have to look hard. The cellar was a large open room, covered in meat hanging on hooks. At the far end of the room I saw Pete, hunched over a large hunk of raw meat, tearing into it with his hands and teeth. He was bigger than the last time I saw him, maybe four times as large. I don’t know why I was surprised, considering all I’d seen in the wastes, but I was. I slowly drew my shotgun and holstered my pistol. I had a feeling I’d need more stopping power.
Pete turned around. His eyes had a frenzied look to them, and his face had expanded grotesquely, stretching his yellowed skin near its breaking point. When he saw me, he smiled.
“Howdy Marshall.”
“Pete.”
He turned around the rest of the way and stood. I myself was unnaturally tall, but he had to crouch to keep from hitting the ceiling.
I hefted my shotgun and aimed for his head.
He gestured to the meat behind him. “Care for a bite?”
I shook my head. “Not hungry.”
He smiled, showing teeth that rivaled my own. “Now we both know that’s not true.”
I grimaced. He was right. My mouth had started watering before I’d even stepped down into the cellar.
“You’re like me. You feel that hunger deep inside. You know what it’s like to taste flesh soaked so deeply in rads it’s practically on fire.” He took a step toward me, and I repositioned my gun. “Haven’t you even thought about it?”
“About what?” I asked, watching him, waiting for a move.
“What another deadman tastes like. You know as well as I do that the more radded, the more corrupted the meat, the tastier it is to us. Well, deadmen here in Pott’s are raised surrounded by heavy radiation. They eat food full of it. It seeps into them every day, fattening them like the sweetest of hogs.” He took another step toward me.
“Don’t. Move.”
“Eventually, the thought of it became all-consuming, but I managed to hold it down. At least until I saw you. Smelled you. I became possessed. I needed to hack into you, have a taste. Unfortunately, you moved out of my sight, and never dropped your guard. That’s when I saw Lydia. I lost all control, Becoming something monstrous as I took that first bite. Became as you see me now. I was interrupted though. Unable to finish even my consolation meal. With you on the hunt, I was forced to eat my own fingers just to stave off my cravings. I don’t hate you for it though.”
“Why’s that?”
“A deadman that treks across high rad zones. One who's sampled meats across the wastes. It’s like you’ve been seasoning yourself for me all your life. How could I hate someone like that?” He slid his tongue across his teeth. “I bet you’re going to taste del-”
I fired my shotgun at him twice in quick succession. His body was thrown backward into the wall. I loaded two more shells in and fired again, activating freeze as I did so. After that, I pulled out my pistol and emptied the entire magazine into his body. Then I drew my sword and walked toward him, ready to remove his head. I didn’t want to take any chances with someone that could potentially recover from wounds as quickly as I could.
Just as I was about to reach him, his body shot up toward me, faster than I could react. And he wrapped his massive arms around me and started squeezing.
“I guess I should’ve tenderized you a bit first.”
I gasped, struggling to escape his grasp. I tried activating my freeze ability, but he was able to resist it, much as I had when Leah had first used it against me. He squeezed, my face right in front of his, where I was able to smell the blood and flesh of his most recent victim still fresh on his breath. Unable to reach my weapons or escape his grasp, I turned to the oldest tool in my arsenal. I opened my mouth, and bit directly into the center of his face.
He screamed, and started to loosen his grasp, but I just bit down harder. I could feel his flesh giving way, his bones cracking, and his blood flowing freely from his face. My teeth met each other, and I tore myself away along with most of the center of Pete’s face. He was screaming. I’d taken his nose and part of one of his eyes. I leapt toward him and slashed at his neck with my sword. In spite of the thickness of it, my sword went clean through, and he fell to his knees, dead.
I stood above his corpse, chewing for around a minute. Then I swallowed. He had probably been right. If he was this delicious, I imagined I probably would be too.