“But the examiner couldn’t tell which one, right?” She hesitated, but nodded, and I knew I was on the right track. “They couldn’t find a death blow, and they couldn’t find a point of incapacitation. No blunt trauma to the head that knocked him unconscious, no needle mark where he was injected with a sedative. The killer ate him like an animal, but not until after he was rendered helpless so carefully that we can’t find any evidence of it.”
Nathan surprised me by filling in the next detail before I could say it. “So we’re dealing with a Withered who can stun people,” he said. “Or … hypnotize them or something. Some kind of mental thing that doesn’t leave a physical mark.”
“Elijah Sexton works as a night driver for a mortuary,” I said. “He has more contact with dead people than living ones. Whatever his thing is, it doesn’t involve mind control. It’s got to be one of the new ones.”
Ostler sighed. “I was hoping Elijah’s mysterious visitors weren’t Withered. That hope is fading fast.”
“We need to do our research,” said Nathan. “Find out if this kind of attack has been reported anywhere else. If we can tap into some investigative work that’s already been done, we’ll be a lot closer to an answer.”
“That’s the kind of thing we need Kelly for,” said Diana.
“I have some police contacts of my own,” said Trujillo. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“No, we need you talking to Brooke,” said Ostler, shaking her head. “If we describe this attack to her it might spark a memory and give us a better sense of what we’re dealing with.”
“What we’re dealing with is a war,” said Diana. “Every Withered in the world is descending on this damned town, and it takes us months of planning just to kill one of them. Now there’s two at least, probably four, and maybe even more than that. We can’t fight this, even with police assistance.”
“You want to back off and regroup?” asked Nathan. “I second that idea wholeheartedly.”
“So do I,” I said. I was responsible for too many deaths already—all the people I couldn’t save, the friends I’d endangered. Nathan accused me of getting Kelly killed, and as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I’d rushed us in to Mary Gardner without knowing all the details, and now Kelly was dead and Potash was in the hospital. It had been a risk worth taking, but it should have been my risk, not theirs. “We’re killing too many Withered, and too fast, and of course they’re fighting back. We organized, so they had to organize to keep up. This war is our fault.”
“They’ve been killing all along,” said Ostler, piercing me with her eyes. “Whoever ate Applebaum would have eaten somebody else in some other town, whether we were hunting Withered or not. Don’t get soft on me just because the bodies are piling up in one place.”
“He’s not saying we stop,” said Nathan. “He’s saying we should pull back and find a new plan.”
“That’s not what John’s saying at all,” said Ostler, still staring at me, and I knew she’d guessed exactly what I was planning. “He wants to run away and do this on his own: no team, no rules, just John Cleaver stalking and killing like the good old days.”
Not completely alone, I thought. I’m not leaving without Brooke.
“Forget what John wants,” said Nathan, “he’s crazy. But this is a war, and we’re on the front lines in a dangerously exposed position. Two of our team got taken out by a nurse, for crying out loud, and that was before the terrifying, mind-control cannibal showed up. We need to run away, straight back to headquarters, and figure out a new way to fight these things because this way is suicide.”
“Don’t get soft on me,” Ostler repeated, her voice as hard as steel. “What did you think you were getting into? I told you the truth when I offered you the job. I told you exactly what we were up against and what we’d be doing, and you knew the risks. You knew there were monsters, and that we were throwing ourselves directly in their path, and if you didn’t think that would put you in this kind of danger, you’re not as smart as I took you for. Of course this is a war, and of course we started it, and of course people are dying. But we’re winning, and they’re scared. If they could hurt you, Mr. Gentry, they would, and it would be your body on this slab, and—”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” asked Nathan.
“Only if you’re clever enough to see it,” snapped Ostler. “If we’re in so much danger, why is Stephen Applebaum dead and not us? Why have the only times they’ve hurt us been lucky hits in an attack we initiated? Either they don’t know who we are, or they can’t reach us, and either way, we still have the upper hand. We can do this, but not if we back off.”