Empire's End

Twenty-Six / Awakening

“Too bad about your eyes, friend,” came Finn Meyer’s voice.

Voorhees sat bolt upright in his hospital bed. He heard Meyer sauntering across the room. “I hear they don’t expect you to recover. Shame.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Voorhees snarled.

Meyer laughed. “You won’t presume to tell me what to do anymore, Voorhees. You’re finished. If you’re lucky they’ll set you up in one of my slums and you can rot away there. If you’re not lucky… well, there’s always room in Cleveland.

“Do you know about Cleveland?” Meyer asked. He was standing right beside Voorhees. If the cop wanted to, he could grab the bastard and wring his neck right now.

“Cleveland’s where we send all the rubbish,” said Meyer. “It’s outside the Wall. Not many people know that. Casey does. Cullen does.

“See, we’re on the same side, myself and those fellows. The system works. And those who threaten it… well, we have ways of dealing with them. Discreetly.”

Voorhees took a swing. Meyer must have seen it coming, stepped back. “You want to be stupid?” the thug snapped. “Fine. You’ll see, Voorhees. You’re done!”

Meyer stomped out of the room. Voorhees threw the sheets off himself and stumbled out of bed, fumbling to the door and out into the hall. “Nurse!” he barked. “Nurse!” He was getting the hell out of here.

A hand grabbed his elbow. “What are you doing?” Halstead exclaimed.

“Leaving,” he said. “I need my clothes.”

“They’re in your room,” Halstead said, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon, I’ll help you.”

Once back in the room, she said, “Look, Casey’s putting you on paid leave until this is all sorted our.”

“You mean, until they take my job from me? Until I’m thrown to the wolves? Forget it. Meyer is behind these attempted killings and I’m bringing him down.”

“How? Voorhees…”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a cripple. Well, I’ll be goddamned if that stops me. Seems like I’m the only one who gives a shit about what’s wrong with this town.”

“You’re not.” She touched his hand. “But you can’t just storm in there and arrest everyone. They’re protected. Even if you could prove it… it’s going to take something else.”

“I do things by the book,” Voorhees said. “Give me my damn clothes.”

He quickly dressed himself, no regard for her presence, and felt his way back out into the hall. “Where do you think you’re going?” Halstead yelled.

“I’m going to work,” he shouted over his shoulder. “You can help me or you can stay out of my way!”

He pressed against the wall and moved forward. Couldn’t tell if there was a damn thing in front of him. All that talk about the other senses compensating for loss of sight was bullshit. He was a cripple.

She took his arm. “This way to the stairs.”

She led him through a door and held onto him as they slowly descended. “Thank you,” he said quietly.”

“Don’t thank me,” she replied. “I don’t deserve a partner like you, you know that?”

He patted her hand. “Yeah, I’m a pain in the ass.”

When they entered the squadroom, he heard voices fall silent. Halstead led him to his desk, and he sat down.

“Well, I’m back,” he announced. Still no one said anything.

Casey’s wheelchair, crossing the room. The S.P.O. cleared his throat and said, “I think Halstead told you you’re on leave. Why don’t you go home? Were you even supposed to leave the hospital?”

“Your breath smells like candy,” Voorhees said.

“What?”

“Officer Voorhees really wants to work this case,” Halstead said. “Even if it’s only from his desk—”

“Not your call,” Casey interrupted. “Voorhees, Halstead will take you up to your quarters.”

“What’s your game?” Voorhees asked. “Are you part of it, Casey? Is that why the killer came for you? Taking care of loose ends?”

“What in God’s name are you talking about? Halstead, get him out of here!”

“You want me out, Casey, you take me out.”

“Don’t make me suspend your pay!”

“You think I care about—”

Two desks behind Voorhees, unseen to him, but horrifyingly clear to everyone else — Killian rose from her chair with a guttural moan. Her dead eyes locked onto Gulager, and she ran at him.

Gulager fell backwards over his desk, swinging his baton wildly. Ernie threw a chair into Killian’s path. She jumped it and headed in his direction. “Oh God!” he cried.

“What the hell?” Voorhees yelled, standing. Had a fight broken out?

“Killian’s turned!” Halstead said, drawing her baton and catching Killian in the mouth. The undead went down hard, smacking her head against the floor, but rose unfazed and grabbed Halstead’s arms. They staggered back into Voorhees. He fell to the floor.

“Help me!” Halstead screamed. Voorhees heard her baton clatter on the floor. Everyone was shouting now, in a panic, unable to act. He yanked open the top drawer of his desk and grabbed something from under a pile of papers.

“Where is she, Halstead?” he yelled.

They had fallen onto his desk. Killian had Halstead pinned and was trying to bite her wrists. “She’s right above me! Your twelve!” Halstead screamed.

Voorhees reached out with his left hand. He touched Halstead’s hair, her arm. He followed it up to Killian and seized her by the hair.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, and swung the widowmaker.

It cleaved Killian’s face in two. Halstead swung her head to the right as gore spilled from the yawning wound.

Killian stumbled off of the desk and stood in the aisle, the two halves of her skull slowly pulling away from one another, her gibbering silenced. She swayed, then dropped with a thud.

“What the FUCK?” Ernie yelped.

Voorhees set the widowmaker on his desk and swallowed a deep breath. Adrenaline coursed through him. Casey grabbed his trembling arm and said, not without a bit of awe, “You killed her.”

“That’s what widowmakers do,” Voorhees said.

““Look at this,” Halstead gasped.

“What is it?” Voorhees asked.

“In Killian’s desk… it’s a knife, made from bone.”

“It was Killian?” Casey exclaimed.

“She must have accidentally cut herself,” Voorhees said.

“Maybe it wasn’t an accident,” said Halstead.

“God,” Casey sighed. “Assassins. Terrorists. There must be more to this.”

“We’ll find out if there is,” Voorhees said.

“All right,” Casey said. “You can have your desk after it’s cleaned up.”

Halstead picked the brains from her coat. “I’d better get to the hospital.”

“You’ll have to be quarantined.”

Voorhees caught Halstead’s hand as she passed him. “You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” she said. He heard the smile in her voice.