“Even the Center for Disease Control has a page about how to survive the zombie apocalypse,” Nick offered. “It started out as a joke but ended up being an entertaining way to encourage preparedness for all kinds of hazards.”
“Exactly,” Bear said. “Rosario never once tried to convince me zombies were real, though he liked to go on about how zombies were all people—humans—before they were changed.” His eyebrows pulled down. “I can’t explain it, but it was as if he didn’t feel he needed to convince me because he knew. Like, I don’t feel a need to convince you this desk is real.” He tapped it for emphasis.
I gave him a doubtful look. “And that didn’t make you think he was crazy?”
He spread his hands. “I’ve been around enough of the whackjobs that I can spot them a mile away, but I never got the tingle with Rosario.”
“Because he isn’t crazy,” Nick put in.
Bear gave Nick a slow nod. “Right. That’s it exactly.” His gaze lingered on his son’s bruised eye for a few seconds, then he took a deep breath and continued. “Anyway, a week or so ago Rosario started getting more specific, sharing links to articles that focused on unusual deaths that happened in patterns all around the country. A series of freak accidents in Colorado where heads were smashed. A firepit in the New Mexico desert containing the burned bodies of a dozen homeless people—all with holes in their skulls. And even the serial murders we had here where the victims’ heads went missing.” He exhaled. “By that time I was pretty sure Rosario knew way more than he was letting on, and started paying closer attention. When he made a ‘hypothetical’ comment on Friday about how it’d be tough to kill a zombie, but tranquilizing them would likely work a lot better, I figured it couldn’t hurt to stick a tranq gun in my kit.”
“That’s . . . interesting,” I said then fell silent to mull over his words. Bear had a wide reach on a bunch of social networks—blogs, videos, podcasts, and who knew what else. Rosario must have realized that Bear would be a seriously valuable resource, a fast and effective way to spread info or rumors or outright lies. But what was the deal with Rosario’s “zombies are people too” feel-good bullshit? A smokescreen? It had to be. He’d supplied the horrific videos for the Zombies Are Among Us!! film, which was proof enough that part of his goal was to stir up suspicion and fear about zombies.
“The serial killer wasn’t a zombie,” I finally said, “but his victims were.” In my peripheral vision I saw Nick straighten in surprise. “Also,” I continued, “you should probably know that animal tranqs don’t do shit to zombies. You have to use specially formulated tranqs, which are so powerful they can kill a human in seconds.” And Rosario killed Judd with a zombie tranq to keep him from killing me. Didn’t want Judd to damage the m
erchandise.
“Good to know,” Bear said, but then his mouth twisted into a scowl. “That son of a bitch was going to use me and my people.”
“Yeah, that’s my guess,” I said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s calling the shots.” I gave Bear and Nick a quick and dirty briefing on Dr. Kristi Charish and the oh-so-warm and fuzzy feelings she held for me. When I finished, Bear’s expression was grave, and Nick had a haunted look as if he was in a waking nightmare.
Bear opened the laptop and regarded me, long and hard. “You’re right. You can’t sit back and wait for them to make another play for you.”
“Exactly. Can you find out if Rosario is at the Fest today? I’m pretty sure I winged him last night, but dunno how badly.”
“I’m checking now,” Bear said. “I know he’s scheduled for demos at ten and noon.” A few clicks later, he turned the laptop to show me the Zombie Fest website and inset live feeds. “FesterCam three shows him on stage now.”
The pistol and rifle-shaped hands of the wall clock read ten-twenty. Damn. Not enough time to go home and de-stinkify before the noon show. “I need to buy a change of clothes from you and do a quick cleanup in the bathroom sink.”
“Or you could take a shower.” Bear hooked his thumb toward a half-open door off the office. “Comes in handy after being out in the field. What are you planning?”
I pushed to my feet. “There’s no sense in me waiting for Rosario to make a move. I’m going to get the upper hand and deal with that sonofabitch on my terms.”
“All on your lonesome?” His mouth pursed in doubt. “That didn’t work out so well last night.”
“Yeah, well, my people are tied up with the Saberton and Kristi Charish crap,” I said. “I don’t have much choice.”
“But I do.” Nick spoke for the first time in ages. “You aren’t planning on killing him, right?”
“Not unless he tries to kill me first.” I grimaced. “That didn’t come out right. I mean, all I need to do is catch him, then my people can, um . . .”
Bear picked up for me. “Take care of matters in whatever way is needed.”
“Kidnapping,” Nick said. He moved to stand by his dad.
I rubbed my forehead. Kidnapping could damn well turn to something uglier. I had a feeling Bear got it, but Nick—“Look, the less y’all know, the better. I don’t want either of you in trouble over my shit.”
Nick bristled. “We already did the less-you-know thing, remember? For chrissake, I took in your dad when you were off doing god-knows-what a few months back. You’re telling me there was no risk in doing that?” He slammed his hand on the desk before I could respond. “You can’t pull this off alone, and I can damn well decide for myself if I want to help.”
Shit. A big part of me wanted to walk out and leave him pissed but safe. Yet I knew exactly how infuriating it was to have someone else decide what was best for me without my input. Nick didn’t deserve that. “Fine. But let me lay it all out for you before you jump in with both feet.”
Serious and sober, Nick doodled patterns on a notepad as he listened to me spell out what kidnapping meant in this case and the possible complications. Not once did he look me in the face. When I finished, he gave a single nod. “All right. I’m going to see you through this.”
“I’m in,” Bear said. “That prick was going to use me.” He pulled a flash drive out of a drawer and set it on the desk in front of me. “And don’t worry, I’ll wipe the videos off my hard drive.”
“Thanks,” I said and stuffed the flash drive into my pocket. Bear could have the videos backed up half a dozen ways and I’d never know it. All I could do was trust him. I also had a feeling he was “in” as much to keep an eye on Nick as to protect his own interests, but I wasn’t about to argue. I flicked a piece of gunk off my shirt. “Guess it’s time for me to shop and shower.”
Bear stood. “I’ll help you find what you need. That’ll save time.”