continued. “As far as we know, he went crazy. Borland went crazy. Something in the water, who knows?”
“I don’t believe that anymore.”
“Believe what?”
“That Borland went crazy.”
Kirk exhaled and considered his bottle. He didn’t either.
“How many do you think they’ll send?” Morris eventually asked.
Kirk shrugged. “No idea. Four. Maybe five. There’s no one in PEI. Two in New Brunswick. Two in Maine. They’ll be here the fastest. By car or bus.”
“You think they’ll send over your Ross Kelly recruit?”
“No,” Kirk answered after a moment. “The elders weren’t too happy with me changing Ross over. He’s only got a few months in. They won’t send him.”
“Yeah. Suppose so.”
“So. We wait.”
Morris grunted in the affirmative and propped his feet up on the coffee table, boots out. Kirk joined him. Together, they kept to the soft lighting of the living room, rested, and when the need arose, went to the fridge for more beer.
The soft swishing of traffic reminded them of the world beyond the apartment, and sleep eventually found the two men.
13
It was Sunday evening at the medical examiner’s main office, and the night was already damn boring. Worse still, it was only the first hour of a scheduled ten-hour shift. Private security officer Deb Cohn stood before the front desk, situated in a modern-designed facility, half-listening to her coworkers’ inane yammering regarding the afternoon’s televised hockey games. She adjusted her belt, shifted her firearm’s holster, and gazed toward the darkened parking lot, clearly visible through a wall of glass. Deb sighed, not caring what the lads thought, and heard a distant noise from deep within the center.
A sound that puzzled the hell out of her. She stood at attention and listened.
“You hear that?” she asked, looking down the inner corridor of glass. A multitude of fluorescent lights reflected in the surface, as if trapped between microscope slides. The men behind the desk stopped talking about face-offs and icing pucks.
“No,” Al said, following her gaze. “What was it?”
“A thump.”
“Didn’t hear anything.”
“Well I heard something.”
“Nothing here,” Noah smirked, and kept his thumbs hooked off his belt while his double chin threatened to burst from his neck. “Ghosts, maybe. Not even three years old and already got ghosts. Everywhere. Fuckin’ ghosts. Makes me sick. More taxpayer money down the shitter.”
“This place doesn’t have ghosts,” Al grated and wiggled a finger into an ear canal, perhaps hoping to improve matters on that side. “Now, the morgue over at Halifax General? That place has ‘em. Heard guys talk about all sorts of weird shit over there.”
“I’m going to take a walk,” Deb said and left the front desk to stalk the corridor.
“Don’t wanna hear the story about the floating baby?”
“No.”
Al shrugged a suit yourself but then frowned. “You okay to go alone?”
Deb didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“You got off lucky that time,” Noah said under his breath as she winked out of sight. “I asked her once if it bothered her to be working the night shift, guarding a bunch of dead folks.”
“Ohhhh,” Al winced, knowing where this was going.
“Yeah, she told me to fuck off. Just like that. And when I chuckled, oh my, she didn’t like that. Won’t tell you what she told me to do to myself, but it’s anatomically impossible.”
“Is it anatomically or physically?”
“I don’t know. Either one works for me.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Al remarked, folding his hands behind his head. “Yep, that’s Deb. She doesn’t say too much to me. I think she likes me for some reason. Must be my seniority.”
“Sure as hell ain’t your ass.”
“You don’t be thinking about my ass.”
“Well, my ass is telling me it’s time for a deposit.”
“You best listen then, before it starts grumbling.”
“Hold the fort,” Noah said and walked
“I don’t believe that anymore.”
“Believe what?”
“That Borland went crazy.”
Kirk exhaled and considered his bottle. He didn’t either.
“How many do you think they’ll send?” Morris eventually asked.
Kirk shrugged. “No idea. Four. Maybe five. There’s no one in PEI. Two in New Brunswick. Two in Maine. They’ll be here the fastest. By car or bus.”
“You think they’ll send over your Ross Kelly recruit?”
“No,” Kirk answered after a moment. “The elders weren’t too happy with me changing Ross over. He’s only got a few months in. They won’t send him.”
“Yeah. Suppose so.”
“So. We wait.”
Morris grunted in the affirmative and propped his feet up on the coffee table, boots out. Kirk joined him. Together, they kept to the soft lighting of the living room, rested, and when the need arose, went to the fridge for more beer.
The soft swishing of traffic reminded them of the world beyond the apartment, and sleep eventually found the two men.
13
It was Sunday evening at the medical examiner’s main office, and the night was already damn boring. Worse still, it was only the first hour of a scheduled ten-hour shift. Private security officer Deb Cohn stood before the front desk, situated in a modern-designed facility, half-listening to her coworkers’ inane yammering regarding the afternoon’s televised hockey games. She adjusted her belt, shifted her firearm’s holster, and gazed toward the darkened parking lot, clearly visible through a wall of glass. Deb sighed, not caring what the lads thought, and heard a distant noise from deep within the center.
A sound that puzzled the hell out of her. She stood at attention and listened.
“You hear that?” she asked, looking down the inner corridor of glass. A multitude of fluorescent lights reflected in the surface, as if trapped between microscope slides. The men behind the desk stopped talking about face-offs and icing pucks.
“No,” Al said, following her gaze. “What was it?”
“A thump.”
“Didn’t hear anything.”
“Well I heard something.”
“Nothing here,” Noah smirked, and kept his thumbs hooked off his belt while his double chin threatened to burst from his neck. “Ghosts, maybe. Not even three years old and already got ghosts. Everywhere. Fuckin’ ghosts. Makes me sick. More taxpayer money down the shitter.”
“This place doesn’t have ghosts,” Al grated and wiggled a finger into an ear canal, perhaps hoping to improve matters on that side. “Now, the morgue over at Halifax General? That place has ‘em. Heard guys talk about all sorts of weird shit over there.”
“I’m going to take a walk,” Deb said and left the front desk to stalk the corridor.
“Don’t wanna hear the story about the floating baby?”
“No.”
Al shrugged a suit yourself but then frowned. “You okay to go alone?”
Deb didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“You got off lucky that time,” Noah said under his breath as she winked out of sight. “I asked her once if it bothered her to be working the night shift, guarding a bunch of dead folks.”
“Ohhhh,” Al winced, knowing where this was going.
“Yeah, she told me to fuck off. Just like that. And when I chuckled, oh my, she didn’t like that. Won’t tell you what she told me to do to myself, but it’s anatomically impossible.”
“Is it anatomically or physically?”
“I don’t know. Either one works for me.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Al remarked, folding his hands behind his head. “Yep, that’s Deb. She doesn’t say too much to me. I think she likes me for some reason. Must be my seniority.”
“Sure as hell ain’t your ass.”
“You don’t be thinking about my ass.”
“Well, my ass is telling me it’s time for a deposit.”
“You best listen then, before it starts grumbling.”
“Hold the fort,” Noah said and walked
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