Detective Marco Nunez sat in conference room #2 of Richard C. Grant Middle School, sipping a cup of coffee. He had come up from the UN to investigate the previous day's lockdown. The culprit had not been caught, but there had been a zombie sighting nearby, so there were some suspicions attached to the lockdown. The Flesheater Defense Division had sent him to resolve what had the possibility of being an explosive catastrophe.
Nunez had been sitting in the conference room for half of an hour, waiting for someone to make time to see him. His boredom was gradually intensifying. He had not wanted to come on this call. He'd been in the Flesheater Investigative Services for two months and had been called three times already to perform this exact task. The story was always the same: no one else had reported seeing anything and he'd had to come up with a theory for why the lock down had occurred. Either no one had seen anything, or no one wanted to say they'd seen a zombie. Luckily all the schools had been in New York, so he hadn't been forced to make a business trip out of it or to spend any extra time off his own investigating. If all the FIS did was check out school lockdowns, he wasn't really sure he wanted to be a detective anymore.
Nunez had almost drifted off to sleep when the door opened and three people entered the room. One of the people was a man in his thirties who Nunez recognized from the office. Detective Dan Portman, as a more experienced officer, worked in the higher office of the FIS. In about 3-5 years Numbers could expect a promotion into the higher office, where they investigated all sorts of interesting phenomena. That's why Nunez had joined. But he was no longer sure he was willing to stick it out that long before transferring into the higher office.
Nunez stood and shook his colleague's hand. Then, shaking the hands of the other two individuals, introduced himself as Detective Nunez, the detective assigned to the case. The principal and vice principal introduce themselves and proposed that they get down to business, because they were quite busy.
After a nod from Portman Detective Nunez took the lead in the conversation.
“I have the file you sent me,” he said. “Since we have the basic facts of the case already, I'll be asking you a couple of questions. First of all, did any of the staff see the subject?”
“Not that we know of,”said the principal. “No one has reported anything.”
Nunez nodded. “Let us know if anything comes in. Do you have any leads whatsoever? Any evidence that suggests anything about the subject?”
The principal and vice principal exchanged an exasperated look.
“We got a call this morning,” said the principal, turning back to Nunez and Portman. “From a concerned parent. She suggested a high school student might be involved. It seems her kids came home and told her they'd seen a zombie at the lockdown. She thought it must have been some sort of prank.”
“It's possible,” said Nunez.
Both principals looked doubtful.
“Well,” Portman said. “It's the only lead we've got at the moment, so we might as well investigate it.”
The principal's excused themselves to attend to other important matters and the detectives started in the conference room for a while, determining the best course of action. The school secretary brought them the information related to the telephone phone call.
“Feel free to look through the files,” she told them, smiling widely.
Detective Portman smiled back, waiting for her to leave the room and closed the door. Then he turned to Nunez. His smile had disappeared.
“Sorry for all the school cases, Nunez,” he said. “Coming here takes me back to my rookie years. They're a boring couple of years, no doubt about it.”
Nunez started at him. He thought they'd probably given him the boring cases because he was a rookie, but that didn't account for Portman's presence. Portman nodded.
“You're probably wondering why I'm here. To be honest, this sort of thing doesn't usually happen.”
“Do you mean school lockdowns being investigated by the UN, or a higher officer coming to assist a rookie on his case?” asked Nunez.
“Both,” said Portman.
“It doesn't seem very unusual. This is my third lockdown case in two months,” said Nunez.
“That's the problem,” said Portman. “When the first lockdown case came along, we passed it onto the rookies. We thought it was the perfect case for you guys, and perfect timing too. You had just joined. First lockdown case for years. Nothing odd about that. That's generally how it's been. The second one came along. Passed it on, wondered if it was a little odd, but it could have just been a coincidence.
“Then the fourth one came along and we sent it down the chain very apprehensively. I did some research. It turns out, before a couple of months ago there had only been three school lockdowns investigated by our office at all. It had been doubled in less than two months. I decided to come down and check it out.”
“You mean this isn't all we do at the FIS?” asked Nunez.
“Usually, no,” said Portman.
Nunez grinned. “Thank goodness for that.”
Both men stood to leave.
“I suppose we should check up on that call, then. It seems pretty likely that those kids saw the zombie. We got a report from a woman across the street that she saw one that day. Maybe we should talk to her first.”
“We might as well,” said Nunez. “ Then we can all the kids’ teacher if she saw anything, assuming they were in class.”
“Who was it that placed the call?” asked Portman.
“It says in the file it was the mother of the kids. A Mrs. Natalie Brooks. Do you think we should talk to her too?”
“We should interview her if we want to talk to her kids. We'll need permission from her anyway.”
“It would probably be a good idea then,” said Nunez. “Where does it zombie sighter live? I'll drive.”
They walked out of the school to a navy blue Jeep. Nunez drove to the nearby flat.
“1207 Schofield Street, you said?” asked Nunez.
“Yep. A woman named Melanie Peters. She used to work for the location department with her husband, Andrew. You might know him. They went to school with me. She's at home right now. She just had a baby,” Portman smiled reminiscently.
“Flesheater location? Must know what a zombie looks like then. No high schooler would fool her.”
“Not by a long ways,” Portman chuckled. “It's that next flat on the left.”
They pulled up to the house and got out of the car. The middle aged woman who met them at the door welcomed them into the house with a finger to her lips. The baby was sleeping. She offered them cookies and milk, which they graciously accepted. They made some small talk about the baby and about Portman's daughter, who would be graduating from school in a couple of years. Nunez introduced himself and talked a little about his wife. When they were done eating cookies the detectives turned the conversation to serious matters.
“It was definitely a zombie. I got a pretty good look at it. I would have done something, but I didn't know if there were any more and I had to care for my daughter. There may have been more in the area, but there was at least one. I can't say much more than that. It looked like an ordinary zombie. Obviously an adult. It was walking away from the school when I saw it and it had come from that general direction.”
They thanked her for the information and the cookies, then left. Next was Mrs. Natalie Brooks, who lived a few streets away on Schoffer's Lane.
“What was that number again?” asked Nunez.
“1207,” said Portman, reading carefully. “It's practically the same address. It might not have been so odd if the streets weren't so close together. The names are kind of weird too. This must have been an old immigration ghetto. They're all over New York.”
Nunez agreed as he pulled up to the curb outside flat 1207 of Schoffer's Lane. The woman who opened the door was not quite young, but she wasn't quite old either and was still beautiful. A little girl was running around behind her, singing nonsense words loudly. The woman turned around for a moment to shush the child, to no avail. She turned back to the men on her doorstep and smiled.
“I'm sorry,” the woman said. “She's been hyper today. Did you want something?”
Detective Nunez stepped forward. “You're Mrs. Natalie Brooks?”
The woman nodded. “And you are?”
Nunez took out his badge. “Detective Marco Nunez. This is Detective Portman,” He said pointing first to himself and then to his companion.
“We're investigating the lockdown," said Portman. "We heard about your call and we've got a few questions."
She pursed her lips and seemed uncomfortable. "I didn't know detectives got involved in trivial things like this."
"Zombies don't sound trivial to me," said Nunez.
The woman didn't crack a smile. She stepped aside and motioned for them to come in. They were directed into a large living room with a few bookshelves full of pictures. There was a family picture on the wall.
"Are these the kids who said they saw a zombie?" asked Nunez pointing to two brown haired children who both looked about middle school age.
The woman nodded. "The twins. Charles and Veronica."
"What did they tell you?"
Natalie took a deep breath. "My daughter said they saw a zombie during the lockdown yesterday. She insisted it was real and not just a kid wearing a mask. Charles said the same. They're usually honest. We've brought them up that way, my husband and me. But this... I don't know. Zombies aren't real. There only explanation is that they were mistaken."
Nunez took a step towards her. "Mrs. Brooks, would it be alright if we interviewed your children? You know, just so we can get a clearer picture of what's going on here."
Mrs. Brooks nodded. "Of course. It must have been a high schooler trying to scare the younger students, right?"
"It's possible," said Portman.
"Well, more possible than zombies," Mrs. Brooks said.
"Do you think this incident is connected with the lockdown or maybe even the reason for the lockdown?" asked Nunez.
"I don't know what to think. It could be."
The little girl ran into the room at that moment and whispered into her mother's ear. Mrs. Brooks stood up.
"Excuse me," she said. "Judy has to go to the bathroom."
“That's okay,” said Nunez. “We should probably get going.”
Mrs. Brooks bid them goodbye at the door and they decided to go back to the school and question the Spanish teacher. But first they grabbed lunch at Burger King.
“So,” said Portman, opening a ketchup packet. “What do you think?”
“We've got a problem,” said Nunez. “We've got a big problem from the look of it. We didn't get any sure intel on the other lockdowns, but if they were results of zombie appearances, then we need to find out what that could mean. Why schools?”
“That is the question,” said Portman. “We thought maybe recruitment. You've got fresh eyes. What do you think?”
“It seems logical. I really couldn't say.”
“Which gives us another problem. We don't know. It could be anything, and there lies the impossible question. What should we do about it?”
“What can we do about it?”
“I don't know, Nunez,” admitted Portman, shrugging defeatedly. “I have no idea.”
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