“What other stuff?”
A speck of red caught Caitlin’s eye and she carefully stepped closer.
“Those Geeks hadn’t been out in the cold all winter,” she told him, suddenly very aware of the chill attacking her nose and fingertips. “They weren’t stiff or covered in frost. Which means they were being kept somewhere and then released.”
“Or…” Booker countered. “They broke outta someplace.”
Sighing, Caitlin turned to face him in the dark.
“It’s fine if you don’t agree,” she said. “But just humor me for a minute, okay?”
Booker half-shrugged. “Hey, I’m here, songbird. I’m with ya. Just lead the way.”
Swinging the beam of her flashlight back over to the splotch of crimson in the grass, she stooped closer.
A bisected squirrel lay covered by leaves and a few twigs, its blood dripped along the brittle stalks of the tall, dry grass.
Caitlin curled her lip in disgust as she found another stick to poke at the rodent, uncovering it.
“That ain’t from a predator,” Booker said, squatting down to get a better look. “See the spine?”
She did. Too well.
“An animal bite is ragged. They tear at their food.” Booker picked the squirrel up by the back of its neck, holding it in the light. “This was cut. By a knife.”
Caitlin scowled. “It’s fresh too. The blood is still red, not rust colored.”
Dropping the dead rodent, Booker wiped his fingers on the shin of his jeans.
“A’ight,” he said, sighing. “I think your theory’s startin’ to hold water.”
She would have smirked if she wasn’t so sickened.
“Told you.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Quietly, they continued through the field into a thin line of trees. Most were saplings but a few looked at least several years old, probably planted by the school’s landscapers to help with privacy and road noise.
The beam of her flashlight landed on another splatter of blood, much too high up to be from a Geek.
Booker soon discovered several more dismembered rodents, their pieces dropped like horrifying breadcrumbs along an unknown trail.
“We’re at least a half a mile out,” Caitlin said, glancing back towards the shadowed silhouette of the school. “Patrol would have seen a herd just lingering nearby.”
“Maybe it won’t nearby,” Booker said, gesturing with his flashlight towards the narrow two-lane road that cut behind the school. “Whatcha wanna bet we’ll find more cut up critters down that way?”
Caitlin swallowed the sour film gathering in the back of her throat.
“Great. So there’s a psychopath out here slicing up innocent woodland creatures and using them to lure Geeks to our door.”
She was about to turn to face him when a different shadow caught her attention.
“Booker, is that what I think it is?”
Taking a couple more strides forward, they both aimed their flashlights across the road.
She could just barely make out the peak of a tin roof.
“A barn maybe,” Booker said. “Or a big shed.”
A knot twisted in Caitlin’s stomach.
“Big enough to hold a herd of Geeks?”
Lowering his flashlight, Booker stared at her.
“Well darlin’, I think you’ve just uncovered probable cause.”
Caitlin had never hated being right until that moment.
“Now, the question is,” he added. “Is that psycho out here…” He pointed in a half circle to the surrounding landscape. “Or are they in there?” He punctuated his question by jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
Towards the school.
Towards home.
Caitlin sighed.
“Goddamn it.”
Chapter Eight
“Morning Booker!”
“Hey Bob, how ya doin’?”
Caitlin turned, eyeing the man who’d greeted Booker.
As they moved through the kitchen, gathering their usual breakfast of fried ham, toast, and a spoonful of whatever canned fruit was available, Caitlin knew she was staring down every single person they came across.
She couldn’t help it.
Everyone, even the people she liked, were suspects.
“Easy, songbird,” Booker whispered, leaning close. “Y’looked like ya wanted to bite Bob’s head off.”
“Bob might be our resident psycho.”
“Bob sings in the shower and cries when they read Charlotte’s Web durin’ story time.”
Grabbing a mug for coffee, Caitlin exhaled fully through her nose.
“Fine, but he’s not off the list. No one is.” Looking up at him, she frowned. “What are we going to tell people? We have to talk to Luna, Trish, Nathaniel… They need to know what we found.”
“We’ll tell ‘em after breakfast,” Booker said, filling his own mug. “Everythin’s a little easier to handle on a full stomach.”
“Says you,” she muttered, staring at the hunk of canned ham on her plate. “Why did I even get this? I don’t think I can eat meat after what we saw.”
“Better try. Gotta keep your strength up.”
“Fine, but if I start getting queasy, I’m blaming it on you.”
As they strode over to their usual table near the far side of the cafeteria, Caitlin felt claustrophobic. Even after they lost twenty or so members before the move, they’d gained forty or more from other Arks. So many people, all with unknown pasts and clearly capable of doing what it took to survive.
It didn’t equate malicious or sociopathic tendencies, but it didn’t put her at ease either.
To keep herself from spinning out, Caitlin had written notes on a crumpled receipt she’d found in one of her homesteading books.
A timeline of the Geek swarm. Who had been the first outside, who had shown up later, any details she could remember from the fight.
It wasn’t concrete evidence but seeing as there wasn’t a court of law anymore, she didn’t think it mattered.
They just needed a hint, a clue, something that would point in the direction of who would want to do something so horrible.
A sharp whistle from behind made Caitlin jump, nearly spilling her coffee.
“Sorry,” Nicole said, already sitting down. “I didn’t think that would be loud enough to startle you.”
As Scott took a seat across from them, Caitlin offered a weak smile.
