The sun hung low in the sky, giving off an orangish-red glare, as Gabriel and I returned to Billy Thomas’ house. Unfortunately, Thomas had not survived. He had technically died of heart failure. However, Xavier was fairly sure they were going to find belladonna in his system. He had an undiagnosed heart condition, the arrhythmia had led to a heart attack. At thirty-four, he was another casualty of this merciless poisoner.
Or maybe I was projecting my feelings of Malachi’s attempted murder onto the poisoner. It was possible. Sometimes, my ability to compartmentalize went a little wonky.
The neighborhood didn’t improve with the setting sun. A group of young kids played in the front yard of a house, but everything looked a little dingier in the fading light. Gabriel parked at the curb.
Xavier was with the corpses of Amber Braun and Billy Thomas. There was no need to deal with Joe Johnson. His cause of death was apparent and possibly, justified. Lucas and Fiona were going to interview a few of the tall men she had found in her DMV search. I wasn’t sure how that would go, but as the least crazy of the bunch, it might be fine.
This was one of the few times we weren’t forcing our way into a house. Gabriel had the dead man’s house keys. It took a couple of tries before he found the right one, but once he did, we entered. He went through, gun drawn, flipping on lights and announcing our presence. I stood near the door, hoping he didn’t spook some half naked woman who had been napping while awaiting Billy’s return. I didn’t want to deal with that at the moment.
“Clear!” Gabriel shouted from a distant room. I stepped inside. Billy kept a surprisingly nice house. It didn’t look like a bachelor pad at all. The floors were vacuumed, the coffee table was clean and held only two remotes, and the furniture was nice.
“Kitchen?” I suggested as Gabriel re-entered the living room.
“Why the kitchen?” He asked.
“Everyone has been ingesting the stuff, so the kitchen seems like the place to start.” I shrugged.
“The kitchen it is.” Gabriel started in that direction.
“I feel like we are playing a real life game of Clue,” I commented.
“Why?”
“We are going into the kitchen to look for what exactly?”
“I see your point.”
We each took a side. Gabriel started at the fridge. I started at a cupboard. It contained plates, bowls, and saucers, all neatly arranged.
“Wow, check out all this oatmeal,” Gabriel said as he opened the pantry. I walked over to look. There were at least twenty boxes of flavored instant oatmeal, each containing eight servings. Aside from the oatmeal and several cases of bottled water, the pantry didn’t contain much.
“Maybe he was stocking up for the zombie apocalypse.” I turned to look in another cupboard.
“Why would you stock up on oatmeal for that?”
“Which would you rather eat; oatmeal or zombie?” I asked.
“Why not stock up on Ramen Noodles then?”
“Oatmeal requires less water, doesn’t take as long to cook, and comes in more flavors.”
“I feel like you have actually thought about this.” Gabriel gave me a weird look.
“I do not like Ramen,” I shrugged. This cupboard contained a few cans of green beans, corn, and spinach. I hate canned spinach.
“Seriously?” Gabriel asked, closing the pantry door. “You have thought about it.”
“Not seriously in the sense that I stocked up on oatmeal and bottled water, but it was a thought exercise I once participated in. If you knew that the zombie apocalypse was coming, how would you prepare?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it.”
“I would fortify my location, give myself easier access to the roof, and stock up on canned foods, oatmeal, boxed potatoes, spaghetti, bottled water, and other liquids. I’d also buy several long metal poles, about six inches in diameter.”
“That seems weird.”
“The pole could be sharpened. You just have to kill the brain. Giving myself access to the roof of my fortified location would allow me to stand on it and stab zombies in the head. If they managed to grab the pole I was using, I would just grab another. This would work only so long as I could keep poles. Once I was out of poles, I would have to think of new ways to kill them. Of course, now that I live in the FGN, I would have plenty of assistance in the zombie defense program. I do not believe they could scale the walls and with only the single gated entrance, we could take turns guarding the gates. Keeping our neighbors from looting would be the biggest problem.”
“If there’s a zombie apocalypse, I’ll bring supplies when I show up on your doorstep. I’m kinda freaked out and impressed that you have a plan.”
“Like I said, it was a thought exercise. Thinking about the impossible and how to plan for it keeps the brain from atrophying.” I thought for a moment. “Also, my mom loves the show The Walking Dead. I enjoy pointing out when they are doing it wrong.”
“They’ve survived, haven’t they?”
“Only because it is a TV show,” I answered. “As strange as it sounds, preparing for zombies is one of the things Mom and I do talk about. She has some interesting ideas of her own.”
“I can’t imagine you and your mom sitting around talking about the zombie apocalypse.” Gabriel shook his head as he closed the final cabinet door.
“We have to talk about something. The zombie apocalypse is just as good as anything else. We also discuss family, friends, work, and news. We have learned to avoid topics like my non-existent social life, although, that has gotten better in recent years. Joining the SCTU doubled the number of people I consider friends.”
“This might be the single most depressing day ever.” Gabriel sighed. “Between revelations about yourself, Malachi, and now we are searching a house for something that might be of value, it has pretty well sucked.”
“Searching the house beats interviewing tall men.”
“That’s true.”
“Speaking of things that are tall, did you see the wendigo here or in Arizona? Why are you affiliated with Sioux Falls, South Dakota, enough not to need a map?”
“I went to college here,” Gabriel said. “And no, I did not see the wendigo here. I was a kid, and we were visiting some family in Canada when I saw the wendigo.”
“You have family in Canada?” I was surprised by this.
“My grandparents,” Gabriel answered.
“Are they still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Are your parents still alive?” I suddenly realized he never spoke of them.
“No, my father died of cancer when I was a teenager. My mother’s jealously prone second husband killed her when I was in college. My younger sister was home when it happened, and she hasn’t spoken a word since then. She’s been in a hospital, but they haven’t made any progress with her therapy. My younger brother was not. After the incident, he went to live with our grandparents in Canada. He’s never moved back stateside. About seven years ago, we moved my sister to a hospital in Canada to be closer to our grandparents and brother.”
“And the wendigo?” I pressed a little harder.
“Was terrifying and I wasn’t the only one to see it. My sister was with us. They think the trauma of that event coupled with the trauma of our mother’s murder is why she became mute.”
“Who is the us?” I asked.
“My father, the boy that was killed, and me.”
“Your dad saw it too then?”
“Yes, and he reported the exact same thing I did. It was a wendigo.”
“I do not doubt that,” I defended him. “I completely believe you on what it was. I just wanted more information. So, at least one of your parents was Canadian?”
“Neither of them was. My grandparents moved up there before I was born. My grandfather got a job at a mill and they immigrated to Canada.”
“Interesting.” I nodded. “I have never been to Canada.”
“My grandparents have retired and now live in a lake community up there. It’s like Alaska, but with fewer people.”
“And more Bigfoot sightings.”
“I’ve never seen Bigfoot.”
“I did not say you had. I was just making a general observation. So, Canada has wendigos, Bigfoots, or Bigfeets, or whatever, Ogopogo, and very little population.”
“That’s about right,” Gabriel answered. “How much time do you think we can kill hanging out here, pretending to look for something?”
“At least another hour, depending on what we want to discuss.”
“Not wendigos, sasquatches, Ogopogo, or Canada.”
“Well, we’ve already discovered that, in the event of the zombie apocalypse, you are just going to come to my house, so that is out.”
“I said I’d bring supplies. It isn’t like I would be free-loading.” Gabriel smiled as we walked outside. He lit a cigarette and handed it to me. “We might both be able to quit smoking in the event of the zombie apocalypse.”
“See, there is always a silver lining.”