Grim Reflections (Gray Spear Society Book 9) Read online

  "Then life goes back to normal?"

  He shrugged. "I honestly have no idea what life will be like afterwards. Probably not normal though."

  The doors opened, and they walked into a small, white entry chamber. The solid concrete walls made it look like a bomb shelter, which wasn't an accident. The room was designed to contain the blast of a large bomb.

  Jack the computer was behind the thick glass of the security booth. He had received some upgrades at the same time as the building. Now Jack occupied three tall computer racks instead of the original one. Tiny red and green lights blinked in the dimness. A black cowboy hat was perched on top of the center rack.

  "Hello, commander," Jack said. The voice came through overhead speakers and sounded perfectly human even though it was computer generated. "Hello, Sheryl."

  "Anything going on?" Aaron said.

  "There are reports of cannibalism in Chicago. The story is generating a large amount of internet traffic."

  "I heard. Up near Edgewater Beach."

  "Also in Skokie and Wilmette," Jack said calmly.

  Aaron snorted. "Shit. I haven't even begun to investigate, and this case is already blowing up. Open the damn door."

  A side door buzzed. He held it open for Sheryl and followed her through.

  He almost tripped over a large hunk of electronic equipment. It had numerous buttons and small video displays. Some idiot had left it in the middle of the hallway. Aaron restrained himself from giving the thing a swift kick.

  He glanced through the door leading into the science laboratory. Intricate equipment covered every workbench and desk, leaving little room for actual work. Unused hardware had been jammed awkwardly under the tables or stacked precariously in the corners. Three scientists were completely focused on various tasks. They were part of the team of fifteen that the legate had sent back in September. They were here to help the twins finish their project. Aaron didn't see any of his legionnaires, so he moved on.

  The next room down the hallway was the conference room, but it hadn't been used for meetings in months. The beautiful, custom-made table and chairs had been removed. Workbenches and more high-tech equipment had taken their place. Four scientists were working there. Only the bookcase containing the tabella remained to show the original purpose of the room.

  Aaron continued down the hallway and passed the tool shop on the right. At least this room had retained its original purpose, more or less. Nanolithography machines and atomic force microscopes had been added to the collection of tools. The scientists could use this equipment to build devices too small for the eye to see. Two scientists were working there now while Nancy operated a drill press on the other side of the room. She was scowling.

  Aaron walked into a big, open part of headquarters originally designated for exercise. A forest of equipment filled the space now. It looked like a cross between a junk yard and a science fiction movie. Devices costing millions of dollars were piled on top of each other haphazardly. Scientists moved through the maze as they performed mysterious tasks.

  Aaron picked his way to the center of the room and found Bethany and Leanna. As long as he had known them, they had worn plain, white shirts and pleated, red skirts, and today was no different. He had seen them wear shoes only once. Their natural skin color made them look beautifully tanned, and from the neck down, they were attractive, young women.

  From the neck up, they were robots. Metallic skin with a smoky finish covered their skulls. All the surfaces were perfectly smooth and hairless. They had eyeballs made of solid, black crystals without eyelids.

  The girls were working on the device known as the "aperture." It was a solid ring made of countless tiny components. A platinum alloy acted as glue to hold the components together. There was enough space in the middle of the ring for a man to jump through if he kept his arms in. The miniature parts were arranged in hypnotic patterns of stripes and swirls. The construction was incredibly intricate.

  According to Bethany, it was the most technologically advanced object in existence. God had taught the twins the principles used in its construction, and that knowledge was absolutely forbidden for anybody else. Even the fifteen scientists didn't really understand the purpose of the aperture. They simply built according to the specifications they were given.

  Aaron was almost afraid of what might happen when the twins turned it on. Every time he asked for information, he got answers full of meaningless mathematics or they brushed him off entirely. One thing was clear though. The goal of the project was the successful construction of the aperture. Nothing was more important.

  Aaron decided not to bother the twins while they were working. He navigated his way through the field of equipment to his office. Seeing his familiar furniture was a relief. The twins hadn't taken over this space yet, but it was probably just a matter of time.

  Perry was sitting at his computer workstation in a corner of the room. He was a tall, skinny man with a mop of brown hair. Oversized glasses with thick, black rims looked like a theatrical prop. He was wearing a blue, button-up shirt, his attempt to be stylish, but a brown stain on the collar ruined the effect. He was a geek down to the bone.

  Perry sat up. "Sir, I read on the internet there are cannibals in Chicago."

  "I know," Aaron said. "Get me the details."

  Perry turned to his keyboard. A grid of twelve monitors was suspended in a position that allowed him to lean back in a relaxed posture while he worked. Stretchy webbing held his body. The keys clattered as he typed rapidly. Pages started popping up on his screens.

  Aaron peered at the pages of information. "I'm seeing five different locations."

  Perry worked with his computer for a moment. "Yes, sir. Five victims spread out across northern Chicago and nearby suburbs. The police shot and killed one perpetrator last night. They haven't caught any others. The rest of the cases happened this morning."

  Aaron studied the times, locations, and descriptions. He could already tell that more than one cannibal was involved and probably at least three. Aside from the consumption of human flesh, Aaron didn't see any obvious connection between the crimes. The victims were widely separated and apparently unrelated.

  "We're going to investigate this, obviously. Start gathering information. Police reports, crime scene photos, witness statements, backgrounds of the victims, all of it. Print out the most useful material and put it on my desk."

  "Yes, sir," Perry said.

  "And locate the corpse of the cannibal they killed. That body seems like a good place to start looking for answers."

  "Yes, sir."

  Aaron looked up at the ceiling. "Jack! Tell all my legionnaires to meet me in the kitchen immediately!"

  "Yes, commander," Jack responded.

  Aaron hurried through headquarters towards the kitchen. He passed the computer room along the way. The metal door was closed, and there was frost on the outside. These days, the twins kept their computers in a cryogenic environment to keep them from overheating. To enter the room, one had to wear a special suit.

  Aaron walked into the kitchen. It contained a long, stainless steel counter with two sinks. A pair of industrial-grade refrigerators hummed on the other side of the room. Copper pots and utensils hung from racks. There were a lot of wooden cabinets, but all of them were packed full of food. The addition of the scientists had increased the number of people who worked in headquarters to twenty-four. That meant seventy-two meals a day had to be prepared in this kitchen. It seemed like somebody was always cooking, day or night.

  Aaron sat at a smoked glass table to wait for his team.

  One of the scientists was brewing some tea. Aaron nodded in a vaguely friendly manner. He had made of point of limiting his interactions with the scientists. They worked for the twins, not him.

  Smythe showed up first. With his broad chest, big shoulders, and tapered torso, he was an impressive physical specimen. His hair was a rusty red, and it was cut to exactly half an inch all around. A square jaw and wate
ry blue eyes gave him the appearance of a Hollywood action hero.

  "Did you hear the news, sir?" he said. "It seems Chicago has a cannibal problem."

  "That's exactly why we're having a meeting," Aaron said.

  Norbert was the next to arrive. Years of intense training had turned him into the most freakishly muscular member of the team. He was stronger than Aaron by a substantial margin. A puffy face was the only soft part of his body. He had curly, brown hair which the twins liked to run their fingers through.

  His face was deeply flushed, and there were flakes of snow on his gray sweat suit.

  "You were outside?" Aaron said.

  "Running wind sprints on the roof."

  "In this weather? I applaud your dedication."

  "Thank you, sir," Norbert said. "It was invigorating. Oh, there's a lot of ice on the helicopter. You might want to clear it off."

  Tawni and Sheryl finally arrived. Tawni was a tall woman with skin the color of dark chocolate. A thin film of shadows clung to her skin and made it even darker. She had bulked up a little in recent months, particularly around the shoulders. Prominent bones in her face and long limbs gave her an elegant appearance. Black hair formed loose curls which cascaded down her back.

  Everybody sat at the kitchen table.

  "As some of you already know," Aaron said, "we have a cannibal problem." He summarized all the facts that he knew so far.

  "Sounds like a mission made for us," Tawni said. "I'm tired of training all the time. Let's get to work."

  Her eyes gleamed in a way that he recognized as blood lust. She had started down a dark path when she had joined the Society, and that journey was still continuing. She was the most savage member of the team. He worried that her fondness for battle had become excessive.

  "It's not a mission yet. We're just investigating to determine the cause. Mayhem will be kept to a bare minimum until I say otherwise." He stared at her. "We will operate with discretion and restraint. Am I clear?"

  "Yes, sir." She pouted.

  "When I was a police detective, I learned the best way to start a murder investigation was to examine the bodies. Perry is locating the corpse of the cannibal that the police shot last night. Smythe, Sheryl, and Tawni will go and check it for clues."

  "You want me to do an autopsy, sir?" Smythe said.

  "Sure," Aaron said. "I'll work with Perry to gather more intelligence. I'll use my contacts in the Chicago Police."

  "What about me, sir?" Norbert said.

  "Keep an eye on the twins. We have to continue to protect them while we perform this investigation. Their safety is our top priority. We can't forget that for a second. Wesley warned me God's enemies would try something big before the project was done. This could be it."

  * * *

  Smythe led his two female teammates into one of the examination rooms in the Cook County Morgue. A heavy-duty table made of stainless steel stood in the middle of the room. A lip ran around the edge of the table to contain fluids, and there was a pump underneath to suck them away. Yellow-brown tiles covered the walls. The poured concrete floor sloped slightly towards a drain. The room was well stocked with hand sanitizers and cleaning products.

  Smythe sniffed the air and detected a very familiar odor. Over the years, he had spent a lot of time in the presence of death.

  Sheryl made a small choking noise. "Gah!" she said.

  The team was following an orderly. He was a short man with pale skin. So many acne scars disfigured his face, it was hard to look at him. Perhaps that fact had driven him to work with the dead instead of the living.

  "Wait here. I'll get the body out of storage." He left the room.

  The Spears were pretending to be medical examiners from the "Illinois Bureau of Violent Crime." They had snazzy business cards and shiny badges that proved they were legitimate. Smythe took off his blue jacket and placed it over the back of a chair.

  "What do you want us to do?" Tawni said.

  "Just observe carefully. If you see anything interesting, tell me, even if it's obvious."

  Sheryl was chewing her lip with an anxious expression.

  Smythe noticed something odd about her eyes. "Sheryl, did you sleep all right last night?"

  "Sure," she said. "Why?"

  "You have dark circles under your eyes."

  She went over to a mirror above a sink and examined her reflection. She looked at her own pretty, white face and blue eyes.

  "Damn!" she said. "Those aren't circles. Those are shadows. The darkness is getting inside me. Ugh! It's making my eye sockets look hollow. Do you think I can fix it with makeup?" She used her fingers to stretch the skin around her eyes.

  "I doubt it," Smythe said. "Relax. It makes you look more magical and mysterious."

  Sheryl frowned.

  The orderly returned a few minutes later with a rolling stretcher. A body in a white plastic bag was on top. Demonstrating impressive strength for a small man, he transferred the bag to the examination table.

  "You need anything else?" he said.

  "Yes," Smythe said. "Get the victim, please. We need to look at her, too."

  The orderly left again.

  Smythe found a pair of latex gloves in a drawer and snapped them on. Without ceremony, he unzipped the body bag. He braced himself for noxious odors, but the corpse was still fairly fresh. There was just a faint sour smell.

  The cause of death was immediately apparent. The man in the bag had six bullet wounds in his chest, and any of them would've been fatal by itself. Clearly, the cops had not been happy with him. The corpse's belly was completely cut open, and some organs were missing, notably the stomach. It appeared a partial autopsy had already been performed.

  Smythe looked into the face of the cannibal. He had a full head of blond hair and appeared to be in his thirties. Dried blood covered his lips, nose, and chin.

  "He's so buff," Tawni said.

  The cannibal's arms and legs were thick with muscle. Veins stood out prominently even in death. There didn't seem to be any fat on him. Smythe used his finger to poke around inside the open belly and couldn't find any visceral fat, either. The bones on the man's face stood out like a starvation victim.

  "He was some kind of extreme exercise freak," Smythe said. "It must've taken years of hard training to get a body like this. I'm sure he used stimulants and steroids too. I've never seen anybody so skinny and so muscular at the same time."

  "Are you going to use your gift?" Sheryl said.

  "I can't. He's dead."

  "Why is that a problem?"

  "I can move my hands through living tissue." He slapped the cannibal's leg. "That's not alive."

  "Oh," she said.

  The orderly returned with another stretcher and another corpse.

  "Thank you," Smythe said.

  "Any idea why that guy freaked out?" the orderly said.

  "No, but we'll figure it out. You can go now. Thanks."

  The orderly left.

  Smythe continued his examination of the cannibal. "The liver and testicles are shrunken," he observed. "That's consistent with starvation or performance enhancing drugs."

  "Starvation?" Tawni said.

  "To get a body with so little fat, you have to be hungry for a long time. Maybe that's what made him crazy." Smythe rolled the body onto its side. "This is interesting. There is a slight rash on his back and neck." He leaned in for a closer look. "Could be an allergic reaction. We'll have to check his medical records to see if he has an allergy. I want to take some samples for analysis. Tawni, find a scalpel. Sheryl, take out some of those little tubs."

  Sheryl was carrying an evidence collection kit. She opened it up and took out a stack of small, plastic bins with air-tight lids.

  In the meantime, Tawni checked the drawers and cabinets until she found a tray of autopsy tools. They needed to be cleaned, but that didn't matter.

  Smythe grabbed a scalpel and carved out small samples of liver and kidney tissue so he could test them for drug residu
e. These samples went into individual bins. The evidence kit contained a syringe which he used to collect some blood even though it was partially congealed.

  He also wanted some brain tissue. He put on a pair of protective goggles first. He grabbed a bone saw from the tray, plugged it in, and carved a circle in the cannibal's skull. He pulled away the bone to reveal a purplish brain underneath.

  "Ugh," Sheryl said.

  "What?" Smythe looked up at her.

  "That's disgusting!" She covered her mouth with her hand. Her face was pale.

  "There is a garbage can in the corner. If you're planning to throw up, please stand near it."

  He sliced away a good chunk of brain and put it into a bin. Sheryl stood by the garbage can but managed to avoid throwing up.

  "OK." Smythe zipped up the body bag. "I think we're done with this guy. Let's move on to the victim."

  He transferred the corpse back to the first stretcher. The other corpse was much lighter, and he moved it easily to the examination table.

  He unzipped the bag all the way.

  "Ah!" Sheryl gasped. She leaned over the garbage can and vomited up her breakfast.

  Smythe examined the victim with a clinical eye. She was a skinny, Hispanic woman in her forties. Chunks of her right arm, shoulder and face had been chewed off. Bite marks indicated the cannibal had used his teeth. He had eaten down to the bone in places. Her thigh had been cut open with a sharp implement, and he had consumed plenty of meat there. Blood had soaked her clothes. Smythe didn't see any critical wounds, suggesting the victim had died of shock after suffering for a while.

  "What could make a man do something like that?" Tawni said.

  "We're going to find out," Smythe said. "Do you see anything noteworthy?"

  "No. She looks like an ordinary woman who had a really bad day."

  He agreed, but he checked the body carefully regardless. He found nothing remarkable.

  He grimaced with frustration. This examination hadn't produced any useful leads. Maybe the tissue analysis will be more productive, he thought.

  He pulled off his latex gloves, threw them away, and washed his hands thoroughly. Then he took out his phone and called Aaron.