Twenty-one
The world let Rex sleep. He didn't understand why,
but neither did he question his suspicious fortune. A pounding on the
door downstairs awoke him. He opened his eyes to a cool evening and took
a moment to reorient himself. Remnants of a bad dream sloughed away and
fell back into the depths of his subconscious.
Connie rolled over at his side,
groaned, and slept again. He pulled on his pants and went down the stairs to
investigate. Deputy Orville Jackson stood at the door, looking harried
and angered. "About time, man! It's sure the hell is nice that you get
to sleep, but where the hell's Biggs?"
Rex gave his sluggish thoughts a moment to come up
with a likely possibility. He couldn't think of a single one. He stepped
out into the dying sunlight and looked up and down the deserted street.
"What's happening?"
Orville threw up his arms. "Without a fucking phone
or a radio, how the hell should I know what's happening?"
It was as if the world beyond the surrounding hills
had ceased to exist. If the phones were still down, there should have
been state and federal authorities out and about organizing law
enforcement and relief efforts. There should have been more people on the
highway checking out the reason for the communications breakdown. Rex
shaded his eyes and studied the empty skies, and the empty streets.
"What came down in them fucking green things to cause
all this?" Orville said, his eyes white against his black skin, and his
sweat-covered face a mask of honest and open fear.
Rex shook his head absently. "I'm not sure. I'm not
sure I want to know."
"Logan, you bastard, how can you sleep with all this
shit going on?"
Except that there was nothing specifically amiss with
the world that he could put a finger on. It was still Rex's hope that the
eerie quietness about town was caused by nothing more than a nervous
population sitting tight until the blackout ended.
Orville, though, was clearly a card-carrying member
of that nervous population, and one not likely to wait out an
explanation. "I'll find Biggs," Rex told the man. Go home and catch some
sleep yourself. You look like shit."
"Yeah, well it's nice that you got your beauty sleep,
Snow–fucking-White. I'm not going to get any of it myself. I got four
missing persons reports to give Biggs, four little girls that some bastard
might have gotten ahold of. Nuts come creeping out of the woodwork when
things go wrong. You know how that works."
Rex quickly sobered to the news. "Are you joshing
me?"
"I ain't joshing you, man! I got people looking for
their kinfolk! Get your ass out here and you'll find out for yourself!
They're not going to come to you! You gotta go to them!"
Rex gave a nervous nod of agreement. He’d have to
check it out. "I'll find Biggs and get back to you."
Orville reached out hesitantly and patted Rex on the
shoulder as apology for his upset, then swung away and hurried back to his
car with his fists still clenched at his sides.
Rex felt a twinge of guilt watched him drive away
with squealing tires. He had been hoping the county would weather the
blackout without coming unglued. Orville was right about the nut cases
using the confusion of an emergency as cover for a criminal act of one
kind or another. One drunken sheriff and three full-time deputies would
be hard pressed to cover so much territory without a means of
communication.
He went upstairs, showered, and dressed. Connie sat
in a corner of the couch with her knees drawn to her chin, looking
haunted, but knowing better than to challenge him now.
Rex drove to the substation and found it deserted.
Leon Biggs had a reputation for reliability and a dedication to his job
that stopped just short of an obsession. His absence and the absence of
his part-time office help spelled trouble. Nobody had showed up for work
this bright and sunny morning.
Rex made a U-turn and headed up the winding blacktop
to Leon's house. He drove fast and cut the corners short. Keeping an eye
open for approaching traffic, the pedestrian in his path caught him by
surprise.
He missed striking Vivian Kingsley by inches,
throwing the car first toward the trees, then whipping it the other way
and enduring a spinout. When it ended, he jammed the gear select in park
and backtracked on foot to the dazed woman walking the centerline.
"Something terrible has happened," she called to
him. "Caitlin is acting crazy and I can't find Leon."
Rex guided the woman by a cupped elbow to the car.
He drove the remaining distance to the house in grim silence. He parked
behind Leon's car and turned to Vivian for further instructions.
She gave a slight nod to indicate the yard behind the
house. Rex scanned the line of trees in back for some hint of trouble.
"The barn," she said. "I think he's in the barn."
Rex took the drive and the back yard at a dead run.
His first suspicion was that the barn had finally collapsed and that
either Leon or Caitlin had been hurt. The barn, though, was intact. He
inspected the stalls one by one, then climbed to the loft.
The corpse was clearly visible against the dark,
moldy hay. Rex gave a start of alarm and all but fell backward off the
ladder. He gagged and turned away, waiting for the nausea to pass before
he risked backing down the ladder.
It wasn't Leon's corpse, even if it seemed to be
wearing Leon's clothes. Leon weighed in at a good two hundred and fifty
pounds. The sack of bones in the hay looked more like something that had
perished in a World War II concentration camp.
Jittery and light-headed with shock, Rex made his
cautious way back to the car in the drive. He picked up the mike before
remembering how useless the device had become.
Vivian had taken refuge on the porch, waited for him
to either confirm or alleviate her darkest fears. Rex took a seat on the
bottom step. The rug had finally been yanked from beneath his feet. For
the first time in his life, there was no higher authority to assume
responsibility for what was happening, and nobody to tell him what he
needed to do to make it right.
Vivian crouched on the top step. "Is he dead?" she
whispered.
"I don't know if it's him or not." Rex looked around
at her. "I've got to go get Doc. Have you seen Caitlin? Is she okay?"
Vivian gave a rigid nod.
"Do you want me to drive you somewhere?"
Vivian stiffened with indignation. "This is my
home. Mine and Caitlin's."
"Yes, ma'am." Leon had a will, and plenty of
insurance. Vivian would survive.
His decision to go to Doc for help galvanized him to
action. He hurried to the car and spun gravel backing onto the highway.
When he reached Doc's home office, he found the waiting room filled with
patients, mostly elderly townspeople with fear-filled eyes. He turned to
Rhonda, Doc's red-headed, middle-aged receptionist. "Get Doc. It's an
emergency."
Rhonda gestured with a silent nod, indicating that he
wait in the office. Rex paced the paneled cubicle until Doc barged in and
struck him on the shoulder with the door.
"Biggs is dead," he blurted. "At least I think it's
Biggs."
Doc turned pale, but assimilated the information in
an instant. "Show me."
Doc collected his black bag and had no trouble
keeping up with Rex to the car. Rex scanned the face of the houses he
passed on the way back. Very few people were up and about. "There's a
body in the loft of the barn," he said curtly. "It can't be Biggs."
Doc gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "Let's
just have a look."
"There were a lot of people in your office. Anyone
hurt?"
"I'm getting odd complaints from some of the elderly
that family members who should have checked on them during the night
haven't shown up. I expected the elderly to take the brunt of this, and
now I’ve got all the young people missing. Have you received any missing
persons reports?"
"Orville's got some kids missing."
The ride was a brief one. Rex drove to the base of
the drive and let Doc take the lead to the barn. Vivian joined them. Rex
pointed to the loft. "Up there. The ladder's not too steady. Be damned
careful."
Doc put his bag down and managed the climb one step
at a time. He paused at the top for a time, then crawled into the loft
and moved out of sight. Rex went up after him and found him squatting
fearlessly alongside the corpse.
"Well, what the hell," Doc muttered in astonishment.
"Are these Leon's clothes?"
Doc picked up a twig at his feet. Like a morbidly
curious ten-year-old, he poked at the corpse's ribcage where the white
dress shirt had ridden up to expose bare skin. The light jabbing pushed
the stick through the skin and broke a rib. Part of the ribcage collapsed
in a heap of dust.
Doc shook his head in dismay. "This body is
completely desiccated."
"It can't be," Rex said. "It rained last night."
Doc looked around in surprise.
Rex picked up a fistful of sodden hay from the
floor. "See? And the clothes are wet along the bottom."
Doc nodded reluctant agreement.
"So how's come it hasn't turned to mush?" Rex said.
"How did it get all dried out to begin with?"
Doc inspected bones of a hand that had soaked up some
moisture and softened. He explored a bit further into the depths of the
corpse with his stick.
"Look at this."
Doc pulled the shirt back with two fingers and
pointed to where the wood below the corpse had been bleached and eaten
away. The hay beneath the corpse had been turned to the consistency of
oatmeal.
"This body has been exposed to a acid," Doc said, "or
a powerful digestive enzyme. There's a peculiar metallic odor to it. I
can't quite place it."
Rex swallowed hard. "Leon was a big man, Doc. Where
did it all go?"
Doc shrugged. He backed away on hands and knees and
went carefully back down the ladder. Rex followed and stood off to one as
Doc questioned Vivian. Vivian said that she been hiding in the basement
from Leon and Caitlin's fight. She had heard Leon go out earlier in the
day. Caitlin had visited briefly and had been acting strange.
"What is happening?" she asked frantically.
Doc took Rex's arm and drew him off to one side. He
wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. "My
suggestion would be to find the girl and question her."
"Is that Leon up there?" Rex asked anxiously.
"Assume it is for now. You'll need to run a report
of this to the National Guard in Culverton. I felt there may have been a
biological threat associated with those meteorites that fell. I think
we've found it."
Rex was startled by connection between the shooting
stars and Leon's death. His own limited imagination hadn't been willing
to stretch so far.
His agitation grew to unbearable proportions. "What
am I going to do? If that's Leon up there, who's in charge now?"
Doc eyed him severely. "You're in charge. Orville
and Jenkins don't have it in them. Nobody's going to question your
authority."
Rex nodded agreement, at least for the moment.
"Okay, but I can only do so much."
"Pay the other two deputies a visit. Maybe they know
something we don't. I'll try to piece together what I can while you're
gone. We'll have help with this soon, I promise."
Rex envisioned convoys of trucks dispatching hordes
of armed troops into the surrounding countryside by nightfall. The
meteors had come down everywhere. The threat would be everywhere. "The
Army can handle this," he muttered hopefully.
Rex put his hand on the butt of his holstered
revolver, surprised at how badly his hand trembled. But his job was
clearly outlined for him. He had to identify and find the thing that had
killed Leon Biggs and blow it back to whatever hell in the sky it had came
from. And he had to do it before it struck again within the close circle
of what few friends he had left in the world.
He eyed Vivian before turning away. "If you see
Caitlin, make her stay in the house. Lock the doors and the windows.
Tell her I won't let anything hurt her, not ever again. Tell her
everything will be okay from now on."
Vivian managed a fleeting smile. "Yes, I do suppose
it will."
