Chapter 2 – Fred
The two burly brothers would later admit, but only to themselves, that the hairs on the back of their thick necks were not only standing out straight but were having seizures and trying desperately to run away at the sight of Fred McCoy.
Fred stared at them, unmoving. Even with the brim of his cowboy hat hiding most of his features, the men could feel his eyes staring holes through them.
“Easy, brother,” Logan cautioned.
“I know,” Liam whispered back.
Both men knew if Fred wanted them dead, they would already be sprawling on the ground drawing their last breath. Logan smiled and spoke up.
“Hello, Fred. What brings you out on a day like today?”
“Same reason as you boys,” Fred replied. “What you’re looking for is over yonder where those houses are burned up.”
Fred clicked his tongue and the horse, a beautifully colored Arabian, walked out from under the tree. Fred’s hat rubbed against a couple of low hanging limbs, knocking some snow loose, but he seemed not to notice. Walking his horse by them a few feet, he stopped and peered back.
“You boys coming?”
Logan and Liam hastened a cautious glance at each other, wondering if they were being led into a trap. Nothing was spoken, but the two men tacitly agreed they weren’t here to stand around and do nothing. They jogged and caught up with Fred, who led them to one of the burned houses. Stopping, he tilted his Stetson toward it.
“The van is in that one,” he said.
The brothers exchanged another look before walking toward the burnt house. They spotted the van in what used to be the garage. Part of the roof had collapsed on top of it.
“It’s the same model van,” Logan remarked. “I don’t see the trailer anywhere though.”
Liam nodded and used a tactical light to look through a broken window. He then forced the side door open for more access. After a few minutes, they exited the garage.
“It looks like the van, Fred,” Liam said. “It’s got bodies in it.”
Fred stared but didn’t respond.
“Four bodies,” Liam added. “It’s most likely them.”
Fred continued staring for another long five seconds before speaking.
“There are some people who have already decided that Zach was involved in this, and some people are probably believing that I might’ve had a hand in it as well.”
“Yes, sir, there’s a few who’ve made mention of that,” Logan said.
Fred grunted. “You boys conduct your investigation. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
He then turned his horse and trotted off without another word. They watched until he disappeared out of sight.
“I have a question, brother,” Liam said.
“Let me guess. How in the hell did Fred find the van while riding around the area on horseback?”
“He lives almost twenty miles from here,” Liam said. “So, how did he know where to look?”
“I don’t know, brother. He’s either got an uncanny sense of intuition or he’s got some other game up his sleeve.”
Liam shook his head. “That man doesn’t play games.”
Logan looked back toward the garage. “Welp, you know what we need to do next. Why don’t you bring the SUV up, I’ll start us a little fire to keep our fingers warm, and we’ll get this investigation underway.”
“We’re going to do this here?” Liam asked.
“There’s not enough room in our ride to load them up and carry them back,” Logan answered. “We could strap them on top, I suppose, but I don’t think that’d go over well if we rode back to Mount Weather with the dead president and her entourage strapped to the roof like trophy deer.”
Liam grunted. “Yeah, and what we’re about to do won’t endear us to them either.”
“We’re policemen, brother; it’s a thankless job,” Logan said.
Liam agreed. They’d been police officers most of their adult lives. It was a childhood ambition for both men, and it had never wavered.
After scanning the area for zeds, he trotted off back toward their vehicle. Logan surveyed the area and decided he could safely build a small warming fire in the driveway leading to the partially collapsed garage. Kicking at the snow, he located paving stones surrounding what was probably a mulch bed once. He put them in a circle at the head of the driveway and then located some dry branches under some nearby trees. He gathered an armload and got a flame going as Liam drove up in their vehicle.
Liam parked and brought out some equipment from the back of the SUV. The first thing he did was set a teakettle on one of the stones as Logan began adding wood to the growing flames.
“Some hot tea will hit the spot,” he explained.
Logan nodded in agreement and maneuvered his way back into the garage. The rear of the van was facing the garage opening. He opened the doors and took several photographs with his cell phone before dragging the burnt remains out. After several minutes of finagling, the two men had the remains of the four corpses lined up on the soot and snow-covered concrete. He then took additional pictures of the corpses as Liam handed him a mug of tea.
“This is not going to be pleasant,” he remarked.
“But necessary,” Liam replied. “I wonder if an autopsy has ever been performed under these circumstances.”
“Who knows,” Logan said. “But at this time, we can’t trust anyone else with this task.”
Logan was referring to the few doctors living in Mount Weather and Fort Detrick. They had not yet eliminated anyone as the assassins or co-conspirators. No, this was a task they were going to undertake themselves.
The snow was still falling, causing the men to fashion a tarp over the bodies which was held in place by bungee cords and rope. They stood there, staring at
