she said to Glauer, and then headed for her office.
There she copied all of her email to her home account and took down the few personal effects she’d used to ornament the walls—a picture of Clara at the annual auto show, a picture of Wilbur, one of the dogs she’d rescued, her certificates from the Academy. She shoved them in a manila envelope and tucked it under her arm. From her desk drawer she took her old phone and put the SIM card back in, then tucked the phone in her pocket. She had no doubt Fetlock would know what she’d done, but she didn’t care.
Leaving the office, she started toward the Coke machine. All this humiliation and public chastisement was making her thirsty, but she stopped before she could get there. Suzie Jesu-?roga, the captain of the area response team, was standing in the hall in front of her. Captain Suzie, as Caxton knew her, was wearing a full suit of riot armor, including helmet, and carrying a patrol rifle, a big semiautomatic assault rifle.
“Hi,” Caxton said. She knew Captain Suzie relatively well, had worked with her on occasion. She had no idea what the other woman was doing there. “Something I can help you with?”
“Vice versa, it sounds like,” the Captain said. “Come on, this Fetlock guy said I should come and fetch you.”
“Jesus, what time is it?” Caxton asked. She looked down at her own watch—it was four-?fifteen. She whirled around to look out the windows and saw the sun was just a smear of orange on the horizon. It was going to set in a matter of minutes.
Vampire Zero
Chapter 47.
They’d chosen a room with a west-?facing window, so they could see the sun. It washed Fetlock’s face with a dull red glow and made his eyes gleam. He stood stock-?still before a wide wooden desk where they’d laid Raleigh’s body, still wrapped and taped up in a sheet.
Behind Fetlock, their backs up against the wall, the members of Captain Suzie’s ART stood at attention, their patrol rifles at low ready. Caxton required no explanation. If Raleigh did rise when the sun went down, they would open fire instantly.
It was more than she’d hoped for. More than she’d expected. Maybe it would be enough. She stepped up to the doorway and ran one hand along the jamb. Fetlock heard her come and turned his head a fraction of an inch. He nodded at her, and she nodded back. No matter what had happened between them, or what was to happen to Caxton now, they were together on this one thing. Raleigh would not be allowed to come back.
The sun widened on the horizon and lost its shape. The snow on the ground outside glowed almost bloodred, and the clouds in the sky were streaked with purple and orange. It was 4:29, and sunset that day would take place at exactly 4:31.
Caxton kept track of such things. She had to know every day when the night began. The room filled with fumes from the gasoline that soaked Raleigh’s sheet. The liquid rolled across the top of the desk and dripped to the floor. Caxton found she was holding her breath and she let it go, then breathed in the sharp tang of the gas.
The sun fluttered in the hills. Caxton drew her weapon, her old 92, and held it tight against her thigh. Ready to shoot at the first sign. What would it be? she wondered. A twitch of the sheet, down near its middle where Raleigh’s hands must be? Would Raleigh open her mouth, surprised by her brand-?new teeth, and would the sheet deform over her face in response? Maybe she would sit up slowly, deliberately. Or maybe she would scream to find herself trapped inside the stinking shroud. Fetlock’s digital watch beeped once, and everyone in the room shifted or jumped a little. The beep meant only that it was 4:30 exactly: it was only signaling the half hour. One of the ART members laughed, a dry chuckle that didn’t go anywhere and didn’t catch on.
It had been all Caxton could do to not lift her weapon, to not start firing blindly into the sheet-?covered corpse. She tried to force herself to relax, to at least ease her fierce grip on the gun. She tried to breathe calmly, deeply. Outside the sun was just a fragment of its former self. She could look right at it without pain. Breathe, she told herself again. Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Fetlock gestured with one hand. Caxton wasn’t sure what it meant. Had he seen something? Was he telling her to stand down? She started to take a step closer to the body, but just then Captain Suzie turned and moved toward her. Caxton studied the other woman’s face. It was calm. Emotionless. With a steady hand Captain Suzie reached across Caxton’s body—and switched on the room’s lights. The sudden change in illumination sent shadows flickering across the sheet, and it almost looked as if it had moved. But no. It hadn’t shifted at all—even the pattern of wrinkles in the sheet was the same. The sun was gone, leaving a greenish twilight blurred across the sky. It was 4:31 in the afternoon.
The body hadn’t moved.