Cast the Cards

“Can we take our forensics team and keep things low-key? Call for backup if we need it?” Carey asked.

Chief nodded. “Yeah. I like your approach on this one, Carr. Sound good to you, West?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Start rounding up the team while I get the paperwork going. I get the feeling it’

s going to be a long night.”

Chapter Twelve

Bone-weary Savannah stood at what had turned out to be a mass grave. The pungent stench of decomposed flesh burned her nostrils. Water trailed from her eyes, leaving salty streaks down her face. Mounds of dirt lined the clearing like giant ants had come up from the ground. Corpses in various states of decomposition were being bagged up and taking away. It looked like a zombie’s burial ground. Wrapped up in plastic and doused with some sort of preserving fluid it was impossible to gauge how long some of these bodies had been here by sight alone.

“How does something like this go unnoticed?” a female member of the forensics team asked as she wiped sweat from her brow. Dressed from head to in a blue uniform that looked like scrubs, blue gloves, safety glasses, and a mask she could barely make out her pale skin and bright blue eyes.

“I think he brought them in from wherever he murdered them, because there’s no way this many missing people would go unnoticed in such a small community.” She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. “I’m not sure what I was expecting. Certainly not this.”

“I’m terrified of what we’ll find at the other site. We pulled ten bodies out of here.” Carey’s exhausted tone came from her left as he rejoined her by the final body. “How long until we know what caused their deaths and get a coroner’s report?”

“A couple weeks at least. This is a heavy load for our tiny facility. We’ll write up all the surface things first, so at the least you’ll have that.”

“Thanks, Christine. I know you guys will be pulling some late nights over this. We appreciate you.”

“We want to catch these psychos just as much as you do. Too close to home.” Christine shuddered.

“I hear that.” Carey sighed. The zip of the body bag sounded final in the hustle and bustle. Giant spot lights had been brought in as the sun began to set and the bodies continued to be discovered.

“Okay, that was our last one. We’re out of here, guys,” Christine gave a wave and followed the others out.

While corpses were unearthed and carried out of the woods, they’d swept the area after the investigation team and came up emptyhanded.

“Time to call it a night, West?” Carey asked. They were very careful about what they let slip in public.

She nodded her agreement. Removing the flashlight from her belt, she turned it on as they stepped out of the boundary of illumination the lights provided. Halfway from the site a stick cracked and they stopped in the tracks.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“Yeah… animal maybe?” he suggested.

More twigs broke in the opposite direction.

“Turn off your flashlight.” The seriousness in Carey’s voice gained her corporation without question. Together they clicked off the black cylinders. The crackle and snap of debris came their way faster. Her blood roared in her ears and her throat grew dry.

Breathing in through her nose, she waited. He tugged her arm and they walked back the way they came, essentially blind except for the light of the moon. The night took a sinister turn. This couldn’t be their people tromping through the woods with no lights. Keeping their pace steady, they fled. Thwack. Wood exploded from a tree, splinters and bark rained down on them.

“Fuck! They must have night vision. Run!” Two more rounds struck too close for comfort. Slivers of wood pelted her face. Spurred into action, she bolted. Disorientated she lost her bearings. Am I moving toward the cars or back to the crime site?

A shot whizzed from the opposite direction and they found themselves playing a dangerous game of pickle. Something hit the ground with a thug. Smoke billowed up, filling their lungs. Coughing, she held her sleeve up to her face and crouched low in an attempt to escape the onslaught.

“Son of a bitch!” Carey’s voice was too far away, at least ten yards. The crunch of sticks came from her right. Straining to get her bearings, she surged forward through the smoke. Am I closer to Carey or the killers? I can’t call out until I know.

Bending once more, she buried her fingers into the ground to center herself. She swallowed hard. Her stomach churned and her mind struggled to come up with a plan. I cannot be captured again.

Snap. Spooked like a horse that had seen a snake, she sprang into action and ran full-tilt. Pain exploded in her back and she was thrown forward onto the forest floor. Whimpering, she pushed up onto her knees. Locking her jaw, she ignored the pain and gained her feet to continue forward. Sticky, hot, liquid soaked the back of her shirt. Adrenaline and shock would keep her up for a bit.

She scanned the area, looking for a sign of civilization or opening in the woods. She stumbled over something hard and landed on her arm. A sickening crunch made her scream. Dislocated. Fear drove her. Half crawling on the ground she tried to rise once more. Heavy footfalls came up behind her and the world went black.

“Ugh.” Flames licked up her back. Her chest ached. She took a shaky breath and clawed her way out of the blanket of sleep. Lifting her arms seemed like a Herculean feat, but she managed it.