note-covered maps. If not for all the assurances in the folder
that no one but vampires had died, I would have said to hell with the case then and
there.
Instead, we soldiered on, spending about an hour going over maps of Los Angeles that
had notations about where the bodies of dead vampires had been discovered. We needed
to get to know the lay of the land and the places we would have to explore. Though
all the attacks had occurred within LA County, no two had happened in the same place.
When she saw what we were doing, Florencia gave us some help figuring out where we
were and the limits of Clyde’s dominion. His territory, though it included major cities
like Santa Monica, Los Angeles, Beverly Hills, and Hollywood, was quite a lot smaller
than I was expecting. Considering Royce controlled multiple states, it was a bit anticlimactic
to find out Clyde had such a small amount of land to call his own. When we asked about
the areas that fell outside of his purview but were still in Los Angeles County, Florencia
didn’t have any answers.
The one common thread we could see was that many of the attacks took place close to
properties Clyde owned on the fringes of his territory. Whoever or whatever was controlling
the zombies appeared to be situated somewhere just beyond the borders. We couldn’t
be sure since we didn’t know this area like we did New York, but hiding that many
decomposing bodies meant they had to have a damned good place to store them in this
heat to keep any neighbors from finding them. My guess was a morgue, a climate-controlled
warehouse, or perhaps they were kept somewhere outside of the city—maybe in the Angeles
Crest Forest?—until they were needed and then transported wherever the next attack
was supposed to take place.
There were problems with each of those theories, but until we had a chance to examine
some of the locations of the attacks in person, I had the feeling that we wouldn’t
be able to narrow this search down any more than we already had. More than anything,
I wanted to know what the survivors’ notes didn’t say. Who were Clyde’s enemies? Who
in the supernatural community around here had the kind of power it must take to command
a small army of the walking dead?
Arnold might be able to help with that end of things, though I wasn’t sure how much
he’d know about Others in California.
Sara and I decided to put off further speculation until after we’d spoken to Clyde.
We spent the rest of our day mostly bored and occasionally shuddering when the memories
of those pictures resurfaced during our discussions about where to start our search.
The most likely place appeared to be near Burbank and Glendale, where three attacks
had occurred close together.
Shortly after sundown, I had a nosebleed tinged with the black stuff again. It was
far less intense than it had been back in New York, and most of it was in my nose
and throat instead of everywhere else, but it was still awfully unpleasant. Sara helped
me to the bathroom and sat with me while I spat out ropy strings of blackish liquid,
washed it from the corners of my eyes, and blew it out my nose. It was disgusting,
yes, but nowhere near as painful as it had been the other times. There wasn’t as much
of the crud as there had been that first night, or even in the shower with Royce the
night before last.
Sara said nothing as she held my hair off the back of my neck while I washed the crud
out of my mouth, though I know she must have had questions. She knew I’d tell her
when I was ready.
Unfortunately, it was going to be awhile before I could bring myself to explain. She
might have been my best friend, but the memories of those hours of helplessness, of
pain and blood and knowing I was no longer quite human, were too close.
Before I could help her come to terms with it, I needed to do something about that
myself.
Not long after I finished cleaning
that no one but vampires had died, I would have said to hell with the case then and
there.
Instead, we soldiered on, spending about an hour going over maps of Los Angeles that
had notations about where the bodies of dead vampires had been discovered. We needed
to get to know the lay of the land and the places we would have to explore. Though
all the attacks had occurred within LA County, no two had happened in the same place.
When she saw what we were doing, Florencia gave us some help figuring out where we
were and the limits of Clyde’s dominion. His territory, though it included major cities
like Santa Monica, Los Angeles, Beverly Hills, and Hollywood, was quite a lot smaller
than I was expecting. Considering Royce controlled multiple states, it was a bit anticlimactic
to find out Clyde had such a small amount of land to call his own. When we asked about
the areas that fell outside of his purview but were still in Los Angeles County, Florencia
didn’t have any answers.
The one common thread we could see was that many of the attacks took place close to
properties Clyde owned on the fringes of his territory. Whoever or whatever was controlling
the zombies appeared to be situated somewhere just beyond the borders. We couldn’t
be sure since we didn’t know this area like we did New York, but hiding that many
decomposing bodies meant they had to have a damned good place to store them in this
heat to keep any neighbors from finding them. My guess was a morgue, a climate-controlled
warehouse, or perhaps they were kept somewhere outside of the city—maybe in the Angeles
Crest Forest?—until they were needed and then transported wherever the next attack
was supposed to take place.
There were problems with each of those theories, but until we had a chance to examine
some of the locations of the attacks in person, I had the feeling that we wouldn’t
be able to narrow this search down any more than we already had. More than anything,
I wanted to know what the survivors’ notes didn’t say. Who were Clyde’s enemies? Who
in the supernatural community around here had the kind of power it must take to command
a small army of the walking dead?
Arnold might be able to help with that end of things, though I wasn’t sure how much
he’d know about Others in California.
Sara and I decided to put off further speculation until after we’d spoken to Clyde.
We spent the rest of our day mostly bored and occasionally shuddering when the memories
of those pictures resurfaced during our discussions about where to start our search.
The most likely place appeared to be near Burbank and Glendale, where three attacks
had occurred close together.
Shortly after sundown, I had a nosebleed tinged with the black stuff again. It was
far less intense than it had been back in New York, and most of it was in my nose
and throat instead of everywhere else, but it was still awfully unpleasant. Sara helped
me to the bathroom and sat with me while I spat out ropy strings of blackish liquid,
washed it from the corners of my eyes, and blew it out my nose. It was disgusting,
yes, but nowhere near as painful as it had been the other times. There wasn’t as much
of the crud as there had been that first night, or even in the shower with Royce the
night before last.
Sara said nothing as she held my hair off the back of my neck while I washed the crud
out of my mouth, though I know she must have had questions. She knew I’d tell her
when I was ready.
Unfortunately, it was going to be awhile before I could bring myself to explain. She
might have been my best friend, but the memories of those hours of helplessness, of
pain and blood and knowing I was no longer quite human, were too close.
Before I could help her come to terms with it, I needed to do something about that
myself.
Not long after I finished cleaning
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