Empire's End

Nineteen / Nerves

“There’s a panic spreading through the streets,” Casey said, hands folded on his desk. “People think there’s been an outbreak, that infected are everywhere. Senator Gillies tried to reassure them in his weekly broadcast, but I don’t think anyone was even listening.”

“What did he say?” Halstead asked. “Surely he didn’t tell them Manning was assassinated.”

“No. There hasn’t been an official explanation for her infection. What I’ve heard is that, about a month ago, Manning went outside the Wall on a fact-finding mission. She could have been bitten there and concealed it.”

“And you’re all right with that lie being passed off as the truth?” Voorhees asked.

Casey sighed. “Would you rather that the unrest in the streets becomes full-blown pandemonium? Do you want riots? Do you want to see what it’s like when crime really gets out of hand?”

“And what about the killer?”

“We’re increasing security for the city admins. You’ll be pulling double shifts over at the administration building. I might be forced to deputize some new men—”

“Whose men? Meyer’s?”

“Don’t be a fool,” Casey snapped. Voorhees didn’t buy it.

“We’ll be devoting nearly all of our resources to this investigation,” Casey went on. “When the results of that bone fragment test come back, and we’ve confirmed our weapon, we start there.”

“How do you figure?”

“There’s no way someone could have smuggled that into Gaylen. It had to have already been here.” Turning to the map behind his desk, Casey pointed to the hospital. “There’s a lab where they test infected tissue. It’s the only source I can think of.”

He turned back to Voorhees and Halstead. “You’re excused. Send Killian in.”

She was a wreck — red-eyed and sallow-faced from lack of sleep, her uniform rumpled. “Are you sure you’re fit to work right now?” Casey gave her a sympathetic frown. “Blake was your partner — you can take bereavement leave.”

“No,” Killian said. “I can work. This is the job.”

“Well,” said Casey, opening his file cabinet, “I have something for you. You can work this one alone if you like. It’s a priority case — it’d be our number one case if it weren’t for what happened yesterday.”

He spread a file open on his desk. “Missing girl. Here’s her description. She was downtown with her parents and they lost her — think maybe someone grabbed her. Name’s Lily Calvert.”

Voorhees stood at the edge of the market and watched as a stone-faced Becks worked behind her counter. If only she hadn’t been Blake’s, if only she weren’t grieving — he wanted to ask her about the layout of the amphitheater. Could there have been a passage that the killer used to slip in and out, past security? If there was, who else knew about it?

“Sorry to hear about our friend Blake.”

Meyer gnawed on a bit of rock candy, surveying the market. “Poor girl over there. I think they were going to be married.”

“I’m sure you’re real sorry,” Voorhees said in a low growl. “I’m sure you never planned on Blake getting killed. What do you call that? Collateral damage?”

“Are you accusing me of being involved with this tragedy?” Meyer appeared taken aback. “Officer Voorhees, there’s a very tenuous balance between my people and your people. Why would I risk upsetting that?”

“Because you think you’re untouchable. You think you run this town.” Voorhees leaned in close. “Like you said, you’re God here.”

Meyer winked at him with a sly grin. “I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I suppose you’ve got a point there.” Sucking his candy, he continued, “But just because I could pull it of doesn’t mean I did. I meant what I said about that balance, Voorhees, ever so delicate. And I don’t think you’d want to upset it either.”

“Meaning…?”

“Imagine Gaylen without ol’ Finn Meyer. Think of what these streets would look like. Think of just how difficult your job would be. My God, what a sad picture.”

Meyer had smuggled guns and drugs into Gaylen. He could have gotten his hands on infected bone.

Voorhees’ gaze narrowed. “You’re nothing new, Meyer. There are men like you everywhere. And if you were taken out, any one of them could replace you — so don’t go thinking you’re too precious to be locked away and forgotten.”

“What do you mean, prison?” Meyer laughed. “There’s no prison here! They wouldn’t even send me to Cleveland. You know why? Because I’d get back in, and then I’d have all their fucking heads on pikes!”

He stepped in close to Voorhees and snarled, “Just try to bring me in. Do it now! Slap the cuffs on me and march me out of here. You won’t even make it to the street.”

Voorhees nodded. “I see. Looks like I’ve gotten under your skin a bit, Meyer. You know that’s not good. That’s a sign of weakness — and among your people, that could get you in real trouble. Know what I mean? The slightest sign of weakness and all that loyalty you command is gone. Get a hold of yourself, Meyer.”

Voorhees turned away before the man could reply. He strode out into the street with nary a glance over his shoulder.

Meyer called Casey on his radio.

“Did you get things taken care of with the girl?” he demanded.

“I’ve got one of my best working on it,” Casey responded. “We’ll find her.”

“Haven’t had one run on me in a long while,” Meyer muttered. “I’ll need to make an example of her.”

“But before you do…?” Casey said, an edge of desperation in his voice. That slightest sign of weakness.

“Sure, you can have a go at her,” Meyer replied. “You’ll really like this one, Casey.”

Dr. Zane sat before a small cage, his expression dark. He watched the rats inside; one was lying on its side, and the other was sniffing it timidly. Little white rats, pink-eyed and trembling, blissfully unaware of their world.

The rat lying down twitched. Its eyes opened. Tiny appendages grasped at the air.

It sat up and tore the other rat’s throat out.

Zane had ground up part of the bone and fed it to the rat. Without the benefit of an actual lab and scientific equipment, this was all he could do to test the sample — but it was enough. He shook his head in sadness as tiny carnage unfolded before him.