The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) (22 page)

             
“Did they come from the same person?” asked his assistant.

             
“We’ll have to wait for DNA results from New York to find that out,” the older man sighed. “But I have a feeling we may be dealing with some kind of mass grave.”

             
Charlie shook his head, “Is it just me or is this case getting more bizarre?  I mean, who’s gone missing all this time?”

             
“Good question,” his mentor looked at him with approval.  “That’s something Chief Peterson, and his crew, will have to find out.  Along with, how did that water,” he pointed at a jar on the table, “which came from the stream on the Graham estate, wind up in the lungs of a man who was miles away in the Impound Lot?” 

             
The young intern nodded, “Are you sure it’s the same water?  Couldn’t someone have just knocked him unconscious, stuck him inside the wreck, and then ran a hose through the window?”

             
Wells shook his head, “I took water samples from all the taps and sinks at the Impound Lot.  None of it matched what we found in the victim’s lungs.  But, it did match what we found in our other two guests.”

             
Charlie nodded and glanced warily at two of the metal doors in the nearby wall.  “What samples are you looking at now?”

             
“They’re from the stream on the Graham estate,” Wells replied, putting his glasses back on.  “That was the last place the young couple were seen alive.”

             
“I thought we sent the last of those to New York to get the element identified,” remarked Charlie.

             
His boss nodded, “I did.  But I asked Sergeant Ross to get another larger sample so we can run some more tests of our own.” He pointed to a jar filled with murky water on the table.  “And now I’m thinking we may want to get a sample of the mud at the bottom of that stream as well.  It may tell us even more.”

             
“Like?”

             
“If there are any remains buried under or near that bridge,” Wells replied solemnly.  Then he gave his assistant a smile, “Why don’t you go on home for the night?  I can manage on my own.”

             
“Are you sure?  I can make a burger run for us,” Charlie offered.  “There’s a new girl working at the diner who’s been giving me the eye.”

             
“I brought something I can microwave and eat here.  You go on and have fun,” Wells told him and then added, “Oh and can you turn on the extractor fans?  I’m going to be using a lot of chemicals.”

             
“You got it,” the young man called over his shoulder and disappeared.  A moment later the sound of the fans starting could be heard.

             
With a satisfied smile, the Medical Examiner turned back to his notes.  Some of the tissues found in the water had been muscle and possibly skin, which had been the first indication that human remains might be involved.  But then he’d found several with human hair follicles, which had clinched it. 

             
But the condition of some of the tissues had raised a lot of questions.  Naturally there was some deterioration, but their current state was not typical for remains found in water after any given time.  And to make matters worse, some of the tissues appeared to have been altered somehow.  If it hadn’t been for the fact that they’d been attached to larger identifiable tissues, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize them as belonging to any known form of life.

             
But that wasn’t the end of it.  Throughout all the tests he’d done on the water, there were no indications of any life commonly found in streams.  No bugs, fish, cyanobacteria, or other microorganisms.  So what was going on?

             
He was now beginning to wonder if the mystery element/mineral was actually part of a meteorite.  If that was the case, then what was its chemical make up?  Could it be responsible for the alterations in the cells and the absence of other life forms?

             
Well, there was only one way to find out he told himself and readied some clean slides and test tubes.  Then he turned to the jar with the new sample and opened it.   Immediately he was taken aback by the odor that rose from it.  It was definitely the same smell that had been on the three victims, only much stronger.  Thinking back to the first sample, he didn’t recall there being any stench attached to it.  Then again it had been a much smaller sample. 

             
Fanning the smell away, he poured some of the water into the test tubes and prepped a few slides then stopped.  He suddenly had the impression that he was not alone.  Looking up, he saw no one.  He called out Charlie’s name, just in case his assistant had decided to play a prank on him.  There was no answer.

             
With a shrug Wells went back to his work, but still the feeling of being watched nagged at him.  Every so often he would stop what he was doing and look around once more.  What the hell was going on?  He’d worked in morgues for over thirty years, and had never experienced such a sense of unease before. 

             
That was when he noticed the entire room stank and realized he’d left the jar with the sample open.  He quickly put the lid back on it and hoped the extractor fans would take care of the rest. 

             
He placed a slide into the microscope and looked through the eyepiece.  It was just as he suspected; more tissue fragments in various states of decay.  Including another hair follicle, but this one was blonde.  The other one had been black.  He began making notes, when a sound reached his ears.

             
Looking up he saw the sample jar vibrating slightly and then stop.

             
“All right Charles that’s enough,” he called out with annoyance, “If you’re going to hang around and play games, I’ll put you to work.”

             
Again, there was no answer.

             
Wells walked over to the double doors and stepped through them.  A long empty corridor greeted him.  ‘I’m still being watched’, he thought and hurried back into the room.  It was still empty.

             
Shaking his head, he went back to his microscope, looked into the eyepiece and gasped.  Black strands were now visible among the tissue fragments.  Where had they come from?  As he watched, they began to move and wave, occasionally grabbing some of the tissue fragments. 

             
He quickly made some notes, removed the slide and inserted another one. 

             
Once again, tissues in various states of decomposition were visible but nothing else… Wait.  Something dark was appearing in the center of the slide.  It was a black dot which was slowly growing in size until it almost filled the viewing area of the microscope.

             
The Medical Examiner stared in amazement.  Was it some kind of bacteria or mutated organism?  If so, why hadn’t they found it sooner?  

             
The dot seemed to quiver and pulse as he watched.  Then suddenly a slit grew across its surface and opened to reveal a red-rimmed human eye staring back at him with menace.

             
Wells gave a cry of horror and fell backwards. 

             
Hitting the floor jostled his panicked mind into some semblance of order.  Surely, his imagination was running away with him.  It had to be.  He had had that feeling of being watched earlier.  And now that he thought about it, the room was feeling colder than usual.  Maybe he was coming down with something.  Perhaps he caught something from Sergeant Ross’ boyfriend who’d collapsed the other day. 

             
He wrote a note to himself, to call her and ask about Mr. Hill.  Hopefully, she could give him a rundown on the symptoms the guy had experienced, and how he was doing now.

             
Then, steeling himself, he cautiously approached the microscope and took another look.  There was no eye, black dot, or strands.  Just the tissues, although he could swear they seemed to have changed somehow.

             
Rubbing his eyes he glanced around the room once more.  The smell had not dissipated in spite of the extractor fans going full blast.  His gaze fell to the test tubes on the table.  Could the smell be coming from them?  It seemed unlikely they were stoppered.  He turned back to the jar and gave a startled cry.  Not only was the lid missing, but there was now an eye floating in the water, watching him.

             
The telephone on the wall rang, making him jump.  Then he lunged for the device, like a drowning man reaching for a life-preserver.  Someone would be on the other end.  A real person he could talk to and ask for help.  Grabbing the receiver, he turned back to the glass container and saw it was empty. 

             
He stood there staring.  What was happening to him?  He took a deep breath and noticed the smell was much worse now.  The odor… could it be some kind of hallucinogenic? 

             
Remembering the phone receiver in his hand, he spoke into it, “Medical Examiner’s Office, this is Dr. Wells.”

             
At first he thought there was no one on the line.  Then he was able to make out a wet sound, like gurgling.

             
“Who is this?” he demanded. 

             
A wailing screech erupted out of the phone, echoing off the walls of the room.  Wells dropped the receiver and clapped his hands over his ears.  Looking around in a terror he saw dark putrid water bubbling over the sides of the test tubes and the sample jar.  The brackish fluid was quickly covering the entire floor. 

             
Primal instinct told him that he needed to get out of there.  Still covering his ears he did a football drill run, avoiding the dark waters as he went, and reached the double doors where he turned and took one final look at the room.  The puddles had merged into one dark pool with black rope-like limbs rising out of it and towards him.  

             
Uttering a cry of horror, Wells bolted through the double doors and into the silence of the hallway. 

             
Leaning up against the far wall, he tried to catch his breath.  The sound had stopped the moment he had passed through the portal.  Nervously, he looked back at the doors half expecting them to burst open as black tentacles pursued him.  But nothing happened. 

             
He quickly put two and two together.  The odor had come from the water sample which must have caused him to hallucinate.  That had to be the answer.  After all, as soon as he had escaped its influence he had recovered.  Incredible! 

             
If his heart hadn’t been pounding so hard he might have turned a cartwheel.  The relief of having escaped such a nightmare had left him giddy and grateful to still be alive.  He was sure his mind would have succumbed to the unfolding horror had he not managed to get away. 

             
Could Chase and the two teens been rendered paralyzed with terror from hallucinations and then drowned? 

             
But if that was the case, then how could the teens have been seen driving hours after they had died?  Maybe they hadn’t been dead.  Could he have made a mistake about the condition of the bodies and the time of actual death?  The tissues in the water had clearly shown signs that alterations had taken place.  But the thought of one mineral with such capabilities seemed impossible. 

             
His eyes slowly turned to the double doors that he had just escaped through and thought, ‘What I just experienced in there was real enough.’

             
Convinced that they were dealing with something new and incredibly dangerous, he pulled out his cellphone and dialed Chief Peterson’s number.  He knew his friend would be at the Open House at the Graham estate where the source of the water was.  They needed to keep people away from that stream at all costs.

             
Unfortunately, he got the Chief’s voicemail instead of the man himself.  He quickly relayed his suspicions and insisted on being called back as soon as possible.  As soon as he hung up he started to dial the station and then noticed the sound of dripping.

             
Turning he saw a teenage girl standing in front of the double doors staring at him.  The poor thing looked as though she had just climbed out of a swamp.  She was soaking wet from head to toe.  He noticed her hair was incredibly long.  It fell past her waist and below her knees, ending just above her bare feet. 

             
As he stared, another drop of water from her hair and onto the floor leaving a familiar, dark stain.  And now, Wells began to feel afraid again.  Staring at her face he cringed, her eyes were the same ones that had been staring at him from the slide and the jar.

             
Before he could cry out the doors burst open behind her. 

             
Wells gasped as he saw that the brackish water had filled the entire room.  But in spite of the doors standing wide open, the liquid did not come rushing out.  Instead it stayed put, as if held in place by a clear barrier, like at an aquarium.  But he knew there was no glass to keeping it in place.

             
As he stood there paralyzed with terror, black tendrils shot out from the wall of dark water and grabbed him.  In the blink of an eye he was yanked back into the room and the doors slammed shut.

              The sound of the doors shutting was still echoing in Alex’s head as his eyes shot open and he looked around.  He was leaning up against the railing of the stone bridge and staring down at him with a face full of concern was Jason Cloudfoot.

             
“Are you all right?” the older man asked gently.

             
“I think so.” breathed Alex and looked around, “What happened to the girl?”

             
An odd look crossed the groundskeeper’s face before he answered, “She told me what had happened.  I was just coming to look for you when I heard you cry out.”

             
“I cried out?” Alex frowned.  “No, there was a scream… it was everywhere…  Then I was in a hallway, heading for the doors of the Morg…”

             
“Where are you Youngster?” a voice called from the darkness.

             
It was Chief Peterson.

             
“Alex?” called Cassandra from somewhere even nearer.

             
Jason helped him to his feet and said, “If you will listen to me, say very little. Tell only what happened up to the moment you heard the scream and no more.  Don’t even mention that I was here with you.  We’ll talk again soon.”  Then he headed back to his cottage on the other side of the bridge. 

             
“There you are,” cried Cassandra appearing out of the dark a moment later. “Where have you been all this time?”

             
“What do you mean?  Have I been gone long?” he frowned.

             
Before she could answer, Roy joined them. “You’ve been gone almost an hour.  Now do you mind telling me what you’ve been up to… Where’s your jacket?” 

             
Remembering Jason’s warning, Alex replied, “I was helping this girl I found standing in the water.  I thought she’d fallen in.  So I put my jacket around her and was taking her back to her friends when I had another episode, like the one I had at the Morgue.”