Infected: Infected by Scott Sigler

Author:Scott Sigler [Sigler, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, General, Suspense
ISBN: 9781848943230
Google: w7L1bwcd8ooC
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2009-09-03T19:04:39+00:00

39.

MOMMY’S LITTLE GIRL Clarence Otto stopped the car. Cell phone pressed to her ear, Margaret looked out the window at a neat, two-story brick house on Miller Avenue. White shutters and trim. Dead-looking ivy branches covering one side of the house — in the summer that side would be a flat wall of leafy green, the very epitome of old-school collegiate housing.

Amos sat in the backseat, clearly annoyed at the whole process. While he was indefatigable in the confines of a hospital, being outdoors in the cold brought out his surly side.

“We just pulled up to the girl’s house,” Margaret said into her cell phone.

“Tell Otto to stay sharp,” Dew said. “I’ve got six bodies over here, it’s spinning out of control. Your backup team is there?”

Margaret turned in the seat to look back, even though she knew what she’d see. Gray van, unmarked, parked right behind them.

“It’s here. We’ll let Otto lead, of course, but I think we’re okay — the girl just had the Morgellons fibers, no triangles.”

“Fine, just stay sharp,” Dew said. “These guys are psychos. And as soon as you’re done, get over here.”

“What have you found?”

Dew paused. “Seems our college boy was an artist. I think you’ll want to see this.”

“All right, Dew. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Dew hung up without another word.

“What did he say?” Amos asked.

“Six more bodies,” Margaret said absently. “The other side of town. We’re heading over there when we’re done here.”

In the backseat Amos hung his head. This was wearing on him, Margaret knew. Behind his sunglasses, Agent Clarence Otto showed no sign of emotion, but the muscles in his jaw twinged slightly.

“Are you ready?” Otto asked. She nodded.

They approached the house, Margaret and Amos keeping two steps

167

behind Otto. Otto knocked on the door with his left hand — his right hand hidden inside his jacket, resting on the hilt of his weapon. There was little chance of danger. Cheng’s report showed he had given the girl a careful examination, and would have certainly seen anything resembling a triangle or triangle-to-be. They still had to keep things as quiet as possible — if they kicked in the door to find a perfectly normal family, a little bit more of the secrecy would die, and Americans would be a little bit closer to discovering the nightmare blossoming in their midst.

Snow covered the ground and the leafless trees. Most of the houses on this street had white lawns, thick with undisturbed snow. Some, like this one, had lawns trampled over and over by tiny feet, the snow’s beauty crushed by the tireless energy of playing children.

The door opened. In the doorway stood a little angel — blond pigtails, blue dress, sweet face. She even held a rag doll, for crying out loud.

“Hello, sweetie,” Otto said.

“Hello, sir.” She didn’t look afraid at all. Nor did she look happy or excited, just matter-of-fact.

“Are you Missy Hester?”

She nodded, her curly pigtails bouncing in time.

Otto’s empty right hand came out of his jacket, slowly dropping to hang at his side.

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