“Wait, seriously?” asked Walter.
“What?”
asked Mimi, pulling into the fast food parking lot.
“Please
tell me you’re not seriously going to put me through this again.”
“What
do you mean?”
“Look,
I don’t like being a human guinea pig, all right?”
Mimi
ignored him and pulled into a parking space as he made weak sounds of
annoyance. He tried to speak, but stopped, then gestured like he was going to
make a point, but stopped again. He wasn’t even making words, just syllables.
“Gi…”
Sigh. “I me…buh…wha…” Sigh again.
Mimi
gave him a moment to get over it, then cut him off, saying “Well, I tell you
what, then. How about I go inside and get some food, and you can decide whether
you want to come in with me and order for yourself, or trust me to get you
something that may or may not…I dunno, make you shit diamonds or something.”
Walter
thought for a moment, then said “That sounds quite painful, actually.”
“That
was the idea,” said Mimi.
Walter
sighed again and opened his mouth to speak, but Mimi cut across him, saying,
“You know, you keep sighing like that and you’re going to start
hyperventilating.”
“I…But…No,
wait, I mean…”
Mimi
just watched with half a smile on her face, then said, “Come on, use your
words…”
Walter
threw his hands up and said, “Fine. Let’s go.”
“I’ll
need a mass spectrometer, and, if you’ve got one, a gas chromatograph.”
Doctor
Ralph was on the phone with Tiffany, the District Attorney. He was frustrated
at his lack of results from testing Walter’s bodily fluids and decided he would
need proper lab equipment to find out more. The hospital would have too many
people and security cameras, and besides that, he didn’t have an in with any of
the local hospitals.
He
had received a call, however, while he was destroying his room in a fit of
rage, and when he listened to the voicemail he calmed down considerably. It was
from the county clerk he had bullied the previous day, letting him know that
there was a copy of the coroner’s report waiting for him to pick up at his
convenience at the District Attorney’s office, and if he needed any further
assistance with anything at all while he was in town, he should not hesitate to
ask.
So
he called the District Attorney’s office and asked.
“Of
course, Doctor Quinlan,” said the DA. “You’ll find that our coroner’s lab is
well equipped with all of the latest…equipment…” She trailed off for a moment,
but rallied quickly, saying, “Which we are happy to place at your disposal. I
received word from Judge Barnes personally that we were to extend you every
courtesy, within the confines of the law, of course, and I would be happy to
accompany you—”
“No,
no,” he said. “That won’t be necessary. If you could just let me in, though,
and maybe show me to the lab itself, that would be plenty. I don’t wish to take
advantage of your hospitality.”
It
was an empty statement – Doctor Ralph knew that with a phone call he could make
all of their lives hell, but he was feeling quite positive about his chances of
discovering what made Walter so special, so he extended some magnanimity to
these small-town yokels.
“Of
course, doctor,” said the DA. “Shall we say 20 minutes?”
Doctor
Ralph looked around his trashed room and thought he should at least try to
straighten up a bit so the maids wouldn’t raise too much of a fuss. “Let’s say
30 minutes, if you don’t mind.”
“The
fuck?”
The
garbage man was climbing down from the cab of his truck, which he’d stopped,
halfway down the alley.
There
was a pile of garbage – half-garbage and half-ashes, actually – on the side of
the alley that was still smoldering. It looked like someone had started a
dumpster fire before tipping it over, and now the contents were strewn
everywhere.
And
something was moving.
The
garbage man jumped back from the pile as the something lurched within it and
groaned. He squealed, covered his mouth with his hands, then looked around to
see if anybody else was there to hear him. Aside from whatever, or whoever, was
in the burning pile, he was alone.
“Hey
– you okay?” he called out.
The
pile shifted and groaned again, and as some of the dirt, ash, and garbage fell
aside, the garbage man saw a hand reach out, then fall to the ground.
He
followed the line of it down the wrist and to the arm, then to the shoulder and
head, which was coated in thick, greasy black hair. He reached down, saying,
“Here, let’s get you out of there, eh?”
When
he touched the stranger’s hand, though, he recoiled in pain.
“Goddamn,
man, you’re burning up! You sick or somethin’?”
The
garbage man wiped his hand on the chest of his sweaty coverall and moved back
to the cab of his truck, where he grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer and pumped
a couple of squirts into his hands. “Hey man,” he continued, “Lemme call you an
ambulance or somethin’, okay? I gotta… I mean, I’m gonna…gotta go.”
Adam
rolled over in the garbage and pulled a bag of trash over his face, shielding
it from the sun as the garbage truck pulled out down the alley.
By
the time it turned the corner out of the alley, the bag was already melting and
the trash inside was blackening from the heat.
When
Doctor Ralph arrived at the morgue, the DA was standing outside waiting for
him. She extended a hand as he approached and he shook it once. “Doctor
Quinlan,” she said. “I thank you for your patience with our office as we work
to accommodate you. I certainly hope there will be no need for you to contact
your…” she paused, just for a second, then finished with “…associates.”
I threaten to sue your city into the ground
and you thank me for it, thought Doctor Ralph. I love these shitty, small towns.
“Of course,” he said. “I hope
there won’t be any further delays or cause for unpleasantness.”
The
DA almost tripped over herself as she went for the door and opened it for him.
“Not at all!” she said. “You will have full use of the facilities, and I’ve
sent our coroner home for the afternoon.”
“Oh,
I don’t know if there was any call for that. I don’t want to be any trouble,”
said Doctor Ralph.
“Not
at all,” said the DA. “She’s had a rather emotional couple of days, recently,
so it was really for the best to give her some personal time off.”
They
went downstairs and instead of entering the morgue itself, the DA held her ID
badge up to a panel on the wall. A moment later, the doors clicked, echoing in
the hallway as they unlocked, and she ushered him through.
The
room beyond was, indeed, quite well equipped. Not like his lab, of course, but,
he had to admit, it was quite a step up from what he was expecting. He
instantly spotted the analytical machines he was looking for on the far wall
and took a step towards them, but caught himself and stopped.
“Was
there anything else you needed?” he asked the DA.
She
jerked, then said, “What? Oh! No, no – I’m sorry, I’m quite all right, thank
you.”
“Then
I’ll thank you for some privacy, please. As we agreed,” he said.
She
hurried away, and when he was certain she was all the way out of the building
he took a vial out of his briefcase. The liquid inside was thick and yellow –
the last of Walter’s vomit – and he grinned at it as he switched on the
machines.
“So
what are we eating?” asked Walter.
“Well
I’m getting a double-bacon burger meal,” said Mimi.
“And…?”
“And
what?”
“And
what do you want me to get?”
“I
don’t care what you get,” she said. They were standing in line, approaching the
counter a single step at a time as the streaky teenager behind the counter
punched in order after order for the people ahead of them.
“What,
seriously?” asked Walter. “You don’t want me to get a…test meal?”
“Do
you want a test meal?”
“Well…”
He had to think about it, which surprised him.
Part of him hated the uncertainty, but part of him still wanted answers.
A third part of him, the one that he didn’t like admitting was louder and
stronger than the other two, really wanted to see what else he could do, and
what other super powers were available to him.
“So
what do you want?” asked Mimi.
“Huh?”
“What
do you want?”
“I
don’t know what I want, okay!?” His voice was raised in exasperation. “I mean,
yeah, part of me really wants to see what will happen, but it’s kinda
terrifying, y’know? So how about you gimme a fucking second to think about it?”
The
whole restaurant had gone quiet at his outburst, and he dropped his head.
“We’re at the front of the line, aren’t we?”
Mimi
nodded.
“And
you were just asking me that because I need to order, weren’t you?”
She
nodded again.
“I’m
a giant asshole, aren’t I?”
“Nah,
man, it’s cool,” said the teen behind the register. “One time some tweaker came
in all fucked up on salts or something? And knocked over the whole salad case,
then jizzed on the soda machine.”
Walter
deflated and turned around. “That sounds…interesting,” he said.
“Oh
yeah, man. We get all kinds of crazy people in here.” He smiled and brushed
some hair out of his eyes. “So what’cha want?”
Walter
looked at Mimi, who shrugged. “Did you order already?” he asked her.
She
nodded again.
He
looked up at the menu, at the same twenty items that have been on the marquee
for decades and the ten rotating meal options that were the latest trend or
seasonal specialty. Nothing looked good, and Walter lacked the imagination to
try and put together something on his own, so he leaned in, over the register,
and lowered his voice.
“You
guys got a secret menu?”
The
teen smiled – he felt like the bouncer of a secret club who had just been given
the password.
“Fuck
yeah, dude. Check it out…”
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