Etched in Bone
Page 140
“So am I.” He walked into the grass until he stood beside the crime scene tape and could get a good look at what the unseen residents of the wild country had left behind.
He’d seen this a couple of times before when he’d been posted to human villages in the wild country, but in those cases, enough of the bodies had been left behind for the medical examiner to do an autopsy and run some tests. When the results came in, he remembered seeing tough, experienced cops vomit when they learned one particular detail about the Others’ form of justice.
And he remembered what human action had triggered this degree of savagery.
“What’s your procedure when this happens?” he asked Miller.
“We don’t have one,” Miller replied. “Out here, we either find the person alive or we don’t find them at all. Unless the person was killed by another human. We’ve had body dumps along this road over the years. Domestic disputes that turned fatal most of the time. When that happened, we usually found the woman—and the car. We rarely found the man. Not even this much.”
“This wasn’t domestic,” Burke said, confirming whatever Miller had heard about the manhunt. “This was a kidnapping.” As he pointed to one object lying on the shredded clothes, he choked on the rising fear that they might be too late. “The silver folding razor belonged to the young woman.”
“Is she one of those girls?”
He nodded.
Miller looked toward the road and the Wolves who had returned to the brown car, sniffing and searching before they headed down the road in the opposite direction.
“Friend of theirs?” Miller asked.
Burke nodded again.
“We didn’t find anything to indicate there was another person out here.” Too much knowledge in Miller’s eyes. “This is a few miles west of where the truck driver called in the position where he’d seen a young woman and this car. She may have been lucky enough to get away from her kidnapper, but it takes more than luck to get away from them.”
He knew that. Meg Corbyn had a better chance of surviving in the wild country than anyone he’d ever met—if she wasn’t having a psychotic episode because of the cuts Cyrus Montgomery made.
“Did anyone search the area where the truck driver saw her?” Burke asked.
“Don’t know. That’s just beyond my jurisdiction. I called the captain who handles that part of the road. He could have searchers out there now . . .”
“Or he could still be waiting for permission to send men into the wild country.” Not always an easy thing to receive—and never a guarantee of safety for the humans going in. He understood a leader’s caution. He also knew he would have gone in without permission, taking with him whatever help was offered.
He spotted Kowalski slowly walking toward them and turned to Miller. “Can you get me the exact position?”
The truck driver who called it in had included the number on the closest milepost. He would be able to start his own search close enough to Meg’s last known position for the Wolves to pick up her scent.
“Didn’t you . . . ?” Miller noticed Kowalski and nodded understanding. “Will do.” He walked away.
Kowalski came up beside Burke and stared at the second object that had been placed on the shredded clothes: Cyrus Montgomery’s lower jaw.
“The Wolves can’t find Meg’s scent,” Kowalski said. “Wherever she is, she didn’t leave the car anywhere around here. Nobody is shifting to human form to talk to me, but my impression is they didn’t find her scent in the car; just in the trunk.” He hesitated. “Captain, there’s blood in the trunk. I don’t think it’s enough to be life-threatening, at least for any of us, but it struck me as being more than usual for one of Meg’s cuts.”
That was disturbing but not surprising. Very few people would know how to properly cut a cassandra sangue to avoid her suffering physical or mental problems, and Cyrus Montgomery wasn’t one of them. Even if he had known, Burke doubted Cyrus would have cared.
“The Wolves may not realize that we’re miles from the spot where Meg escaped from Cyrus. Go up and tell them so they understand why they can’t pick up her scent. As soon as Captain Miller confirms the location, you and the lieutenant pack up the Wolves and get over there to start the search.”
“Yes, sir.” Kowalski didn’t move, just stared at the jaw.
“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer,” Burke said quietly.
Monty had an ingrained courtesy and courage that had opened a door, allowing some humans to communicate with the terra indigene. Karl Kowalski had the grit to see the truth about what was on the other side of that door and still walk through it.
But did he have enough grit?
“Was he dead when they ripped off his jaw?” Kowalski asked.
Burke took a deep breath and blew it out. “No.”
• • •
So thirsty. And scared that Simon wouldn’t find her. The terra indigene weren’t the only wild things out here. And unlike the terra indigene who knew she wasn’t prey, other wild things might decide she looked, and smelled, pretty tasty.
She couldn’t run. Even if both legs worked, she’d never outrun predators who were used to chasing their dinners.
She didn’t have much strength or courage left, but she had enough for one more bit of defiance.
“Arroo!” Meg howled. “Arroo!”
He’d seen this a couple of times before when he’d been posted to human villages in the wild country, but in those cases, enough of the bodies had been left behind for the medical examiner to do an autopsy and run some tests. When the results came in, he remembered seeing tough, experienced cops vomit when they learned one particular detail about the Others’ form of justice.
And he remembered what human action had triggered this degree of savagery.
“What’s your procedure when this happens?” he asked Miller.
“We don’t have one,” Miller replied. “Out here, we either find the person alive or we don’t find them at all. Unless the person was killed by another human. We’ve had body dumps along this road over the years. Domestic disputes that turned fatal most of the time. When that happened, we usually found the woman—and the car. We rarely found the man. Not even this much.”
“This wasn’t domestic,” Burke said, confirming whatever Miller had heard about the manhunt. “This was a kidnapping.” As he pointed to one object lying on the shredded clothes, he choked on the rising fear that they might be too late. “The silver folding razor belonged to the young woman.”
“Is she one of those girls?”
He nodded.
Miller looked toward the road and the Wolves who had returned to the brown car, sniffing and searching before they headed down the road in the opposite direction.
“Friend of theirs?” Miller asked.
Burke nodded again.
“We didn’t find anything to indicate there was another person out here.” Too much knowledge in Miller’s eyes. “This is a few miles west of where the truck driver called in the position where he’d seen a young woman and this car. She may have been lucky enough to get away from her kidnapper, but it takes more than luck to get away from them.”
He knew that. Meg Corbyn had a better chance of surviving in the wild country than anyone he’d ever met—if she wasn’t having a psychotic episode because of the cuts Cyrus Montgomery made.
“Did anyone search the area where the truck driver saw her?” Burke asked.
“Don’t know. That’s just beyond my jurisdiction. I called the captain who handles that part of the road. He could have searchers out there now . . .”
“Or he could still be waiting for permission to send men into the wild country.” Not always an easy thing to receive—and never a guarantee of safety for the humans going in. He understood a leader’s caution. He also knew he would have gone in without permission, taking with him whatever help was offered.
He spotted Kowalski slowly walking toward them and turned to Miller. “Can you get me the exact position?”
The truck driver who called it in had included the number on the closest milepost. He would be able to start his own search close enough to Meg’s last known position for the Wolves to pick up her scent.
“Didn’t you . . . ?” Miller noticed Kowalski and nodded understanding. “Will do.” He walked away.
Kowalski came up beside Burke and stared at the second object that had been placed on the shredded clothes: Cyrus Montgomery’s lower jaw.
“The Wolves can’t find Meg’s scent,” Kowalski said. “Wherever she is, she didn’t leave the car anywhere around here. Nobody is shifting to human form to talk to me, but my impression is they didn’t find her scent in the car; just in the trunk.” He hesitated. “Captain, there’s blood in the trunk. I don’t think it’s enough to be life-threatening, at least for any of us, but it struck me as being more than usual for one of Meg’s cuts.”
That was disturbing but not surprising. Very few people would know how to properly cut a cassandra sangue to avoid her suffering physical or mental problems, and Cyrus Montgomery wasn’t one of them. Even if he had known, Burke doubted Cyrus would have cared.
“The Wolves may not realize that we’re miles from the spot where Meg escaped from Cyrus. Go up and tell them so they understand why they can’t pick up her scent. As soon as Captain Miller confirms the location, you and the lieutenant pack up the Wolves and get over there to start the search.”
“Yes, sir.” Kowalski didn’t move, just stared at the jaw.
“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer,” Burke said quietly.
Monty had an ingrained courtesy and courage that had opened a door, allowing some humans to communicate with the terra indigene. Karl Kowalski had the grit to see the truth about what was on the other side of that door and still walk through it.
But did he have enough grit?
“Was he dead when they ripped off his jaw?” Kowalski asked.
Burke took a deep breath and blew it out. “No.”
• • •
So thirsty. And scared that Simon wouldn’t find her. The terra indigene weren’t the only wild things out here. And unlike the terra indigene who knew she wasn’t prey, other wild things might decide she looked, and smelled, pretty tasty.
She couldn’t run. Even if both legs worked, she’d never outrun predators who were used to chasing their dinners.
She didn’t have much strength or courage left, but she had enough for one more bit of defiance.
“Arroo!” Meg howled. “Arroo!”
