Chapter 14: Luis Meets Martin

Agreeing with O' Grady didn't make his thought process any easier. If there was a story, he would print the article, although maybe not in the Wellow Falls Gazette. There were plenty of other papers that would be willing to buy it, provided it was entertaining and there was evidence. The strange murders could not be disputed, nor could the fact that the bodies disappeared from the grave. His eyewitness account would not hold-up on its own though, and even pictures might not seal the case. Nowadays, the tabloids had become so adept at manipulating images, that the truth was obscured in a never ending series of tainted pictures and tampered-with-truth.

He would simply need to do more research. The most logical place to start was Selectman Rooney's wife. Luis tapped the pencil one last time and grabbed the keys to his car. He strode down the hallway and heard O' Grady yelling at him.

"Remember what I said Luis!" At the front door Evelyn looked up from whatever she was reading.

"Be careful," she whispered as if saying it aloud would jinx her with the danger she was warning him about.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled as he threw the doors open and walked out into the sunshine.

Selectman Rooney lived in a nice area of Wellow Falls called Shady Run. It was a new development and the houses were large, spacious, and expensive. Luis envied the well manicured lawns and the picture of suburban bliss. He wondered if he would ever retire to such a life. He wondered if he wanted to retire to such a life.

When he was in the city, he could not imagine leaving the hustle and bustle, the activity of constantly breaking stories and the adrenaline which seemed to course through everyone's veins.

Yet, he had to admit, the suburbs were not as horrible as he originally expected. They lacked the throbbing pulse which vibrated through the urban jungle, but they had their own allure, their own charm.

If he ever had a family, perhaps the suburbs wouldn't be so bad. He could imagine his wife walking across the lawn and his children playing ball in the backyard with their neighborhood friends. A family, children, it all seemed so far away. He was thirty-one and after Stacey, he had barely stopped to breathe, let alone start in a relationship all over again. He wasn't getting any younger and Luis knew he wanted to have children. A few years ago, the desire would have been unthinkable, but time changes everything, even the lack of a paternal instinct.

"Once I win my Pulitzer," he mumbled to himself as he drove up to the Rooney residence.

There were several cars parked around the house but Luis couldn't detect any activity inside. He began to walk up the driveway and froze. Movement, he could have sworn that he had seen movement by the side of the house. He peered closely and couldn't see anything. He slowly began walking up the driveway again and he felt his heart pounding.

Something felt off. The quiet, the sick silence that he had felt all day seemed nearly oppressive. Of course, he tried to tell himself, someone was just murdered. Of course it's going to be oppressive.

He stuck his finger out to ring the doorbell and hesitated. Did he want to get any deeper into this mystery? Perhaps he should just pack his things and head back to the city. But the thought of having to tell his colleagues that he had been spooked out of a small sleepy town made him stick his finger on the bell. It rang and Luis waited.

He expected to have an angry relative accost him, demanding to know how he could be so insensitive to question the grieving widow so soon after the tragedy. Instead, he heard a dim voice telling him to come in. It was a young voice that sounded vaguely familiar. He crossed the threshold, trying to match the voice with a face. As he stepped into the living room, Luis remembered and realized he had made an enormous mistake.

Martin sat in a rocking chair with a party hat on his head and a large horn in his mouth. He blew it when Luis walked into the room and then spat it out.

"A journalist that never fails to follow the clues, very impressive. Tell me Luis, why are journalists better detectives than the detectives?" He gestured to two policeman who were propped up on the couch. They had been stabbed in the chin and dried blood stained the front of their blue shirts and the pockets of their pants. Martin had crossed their legs and made them look like statues of elegance even as their bodies began to stiffen with rigormortous.

Sitting stiffly in another chair was Rooney's wife. Her gray hair was matted with blood and each eye seemed frozen in a different direction. Her tongue protruded slightly from her otherwise closed mouth, and the blood had dried into stalagtite drips at the bottom of it.

Luis didn't think about running. The horror had glued his shoes to the floor and he stared at each of the bodies, trying to form some kind of rational explanation.

"Why?" he finally asked. Martin continued to rock.

"Why? Of course you would want to know. The journalist, always looking for the scoop, the real story. Do you really want to know Luis? Do you really want to know what killed all of them and what will kill you?" Luis hadn't noticed it before but Martin brought his hands forward and Luis could see he was holding a large silver nail. Just the kind he imagined had been used to kill all of the other victims. "Something is starting here Luis, and you will be a part of it. A new world, a new power for all of us. It was promised to me." He rose from the rocking chair and approached Luis. "You can't imagine what it means. It's all starting here, but it will spread, it's already spreading around the town, the state, and eventually the entire world."

"I came back to this house because it only seemed fitting to finish the dead and reunite the family. I never liked the Rooney's. They laughed at me once because of my foot. Thought I was a dumb cripple that would live the rest of my life hobbling around. Oh well."

Luis thought back to what he had learned in the self-defense course and wondered if it was at all relevant when confronted by a half-dead, homicidal teen-ager wielding a silver nail. The professor had told them about worth, and about how worth could be used to one's advantage if it was deployed properly. He tried to remember the lecture.

"In a situation where death seems inevitable, a last resort may be to bargain your worth. Convince your attacker that your life may be of some value to him or her. Even if it's a value that only buys you a few minutes or hours, try it. Anything can happen in that time, and it may save your life."

"Once I'm dead, I'll come back to life, like what happened to you and your parents?" Martin stopped his advance and stared at the other dead. He nodded his small head.

"Yes. It's hard to describe, but you will be a different person, stronger and more confident. You will feel solidarity with our purpose." He seemed confused and hesitated for a moment. A small bit of humanity emerged and he lowered the nail. Was there sympathy in his face?

"Luis, do not be scared. It's like nothing you've ever felt before. Look at me, look at the power I command. These people will come back better and stronger than before. They will have the purpose, the desire. Not everyone is worthy of redemption Luis. Some must simply be killed. You should be honored." There was conflict inside of the boy, and Luis realized this could be an additional opportunity.

"Who's the Collaq?" Martin smiled.

"He's my friend. He guides me and tells me what to do."

"Let me be your friend also. Let me help the Collaq guide you." The suggestion sent a tremor of fury through Martin and he lunged forward with the nail. Luis reeled back and heard the metal slice through his shirt. Martin was instantly on top of him and he could smell the stench. He gagged and vomited as Martin dragged him up by the hair.

"I do not want or need any other friends," he said like an impetuous teen-ager.

"I know," Luis wheezed, "but I can help you and the Collaq more alive and dead. You want to expand your power, to spread, and you will need agents to do that. Agents that are not different and that blend in with the general population." Martin let go of his hair and he fell to the ground.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it's going to be discovered eventually."

"Don't you think we realize that?" Luis looked up at the small boy and wondered about what he was about to do. He was trying to strike a Faustian deal, one that might spare his life for the moment, but one that might also kill many others in the process. The ethics of it were lousy, so bad in fact that he almost opted to let the little bugger kill him. Almost, but his own self-preservation was to strong.

"I know a way of expanding whatever you're trying to do beyond Wellow Falls." Martin stood over him and he could see the interest in the boy's face. Martin smiled sardonically and any vestiges of the human boy was gone. This look was wise and intelligent, cold and calculating.

"Go on." Luis didn't want to say it, didn't want to commit the sin he was about to commit. The idea was very simple, one that O' Grady had planted in his head only hours before.

"In two days, Wellow Falls will be full of people from all over the world. With a little planning and my help, you can have them all, and in that way spread your little plague well beyond the borders of this town." Martin smiled and Luis was astonished at the horror he had just unleashed with those simple words.

"What's your plan?" Sure that he had spared his life for the moment, Luis plunged into self damnation and told him. He watched the boy listen in glee and realized that even as he spun this plan, he would have to begin thinking of a way to prevent its execution.