Page 24 of Druid Dreams

I’d never been to Vaughn’s office before, but let me just say, the whole fucking place was boring. Everything was white or grey or godsdamn white. There was a larger than life picture hanging on the wall behind the front desk in the lobby. It was just three grown ass weirdos smiling at the twelve terribly placed chairs along the walls as you entered. That was the only color to be found in the plain lobby.

We walked past the security guard sitting at the front desk. He was asleep. Vaughn hit the up button for the elevators, and the guy didn’t even stir when the doors opened with a ping. If I didn’t see his chest moving I would have sworn he was dead. I watched him as the doors jarred to a close. No movement, not even a flinch. They hired terrible guards to keep this place safe.

Once we were in the elevator, the fun began. Vaughn swiped Sloane’s badge against the panel below the buttons. The metal death trap whizzed to life, halting when we reached the top floor. There were no guards up here. There were a few plants in the hall that led to several offices, so the white on white decor was speckled with some color. Some. The first two offices we passed were open and empty. There were two more after those with closed doors. I was itching to do a little snooping. Sorry, breaking and entering. Except, we were the keepers of the badge. The only badge in the entire company that opened every single door in the whole factory. It’s really not as fun as I thought it was gonna be.

I knew why I was here though, so as soon as Vaughn got me in that Preston guy’s office, I’d sit down and get to work. I’ll be able to hack into his computer and pull all his information. Every email he sent or received, every website browser he opened, every individual thing he deleted — It would all be at my fingertips. I just needed a few minutes to study the wear patterns on his keyboard and a piece of paper to jot down some possible passwords.

Vaughn stopped at the second door on the right. He rubbed the badge over the shining, black glass piece attached above the fancy metal door knob. A green light flashed and we heard the latch pop open. Turning the handle, Vaughn took a deep breath and shoved at the door.

The door flew open, stopping abruptly at the halfway point, and slammed shut in our faces. That’s interesting. We glanced at each other in states of amusement and confusion, but when I took a deep breath all my amusement died with the exhale.

I smelled the tangy, metallic scent of blood. It came from something that was behind the door. Vaughn slowly skimmed the badge across the black reader one more time. When the green light blinked again he twisted the handle and eased the door open. I poked my head in for a quick glance and regretted it immediately.

“If you start to get queasy let me know, man. This place is fucking gory.” I had to give him some kind of warning. The last time we were anywhere half this bloody he almost puked on me. Not happening today, buddy. You could never fully comprehend how much blood the human body could hold until you saw it all on the outside. If I had to give a rough guesstimation, I’d say there were around ten pints pooling on the floor of that poor guy’s office.

Vaughn gagged when he stepped inside the once white room. I did my best to avoid stepping in the blood while actively trying to move away from him. The scene in front of us was nightmare inducing. The door was stopped by the torso of what used to be a man. One leg was on his office chair while the other leaned against a potted lime tree in the corner. How do I know it’s a lime tree? It’s got little green balls on it. Maybe it wasn’t a lime tree, but it was some kind of fruit tree. Also, not the point.

I tiptoed around the room to get a better view. There was an arm hanging out of the bottom desk drawer, the one that should’ve been locked. The wrist joint was wedged between the desk and the drawer top. I knew before I even looked inside that whatever was kept safe in that drawer was long gone. It must have been real fucking important to someone.

I looked up from my inspection to find Vaughn staring at the top of the desk in absolute horror. When my eyes followed his line of sight, a full body shudder flowed through me. There’s a dick on the desk. Just… a loose, dismembered dick, flopped haphazardly across a cell phone. “I’m telling you right now, Vaughn. I’m not touching it.” He fought a grin despite the macabre scene we were in.

“Let’s call Sloane before we touch anything. I don’t know how she wants to handle this, and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting us to walk into a murder scene.” Logical. We should call her. We also needed the information on that computer before the cops confiscated it as part of the evidence.

“Okay,” I agreed, not focused on him at all as I walked around the room. I avoided stepping on the bloody parts of the floor as I tried to take stock of what could’ve been moved or anything that might be missing. I didn’t see anything though, so I started wondering if this guy was a loose end or a coincidence that had nothing to do with what we were looking for.

“Franklin,” Vaughn acknowledged as he fumbled to hit the speaker button. “We just got into Preston’s office at CBP and this place is a battle zone. He’s dead, or someone else was murdered in his office. Sloane’s phone is going straight to voicemail. What should we do?”

“Take the computer and anything else that looks like it could be of use.” Franklin exhaled loudly before he proceeded with our instructions. “Go through all the drawers, shelves, books, and any cabinets or closets. Take all the files in his desk and check to see if you can find a cell phone or a wallet. Sloane has boxes in her office. They’re full but you can empty a couple of them to use. Just stack her stuff on the floor and I’ll put it up on Monday.” A door closed in the background of the phone call shortly before a laptop beeped on. “And don’t leave any fucking fingerprints. Wipe the door handles down and the elevator buttons. Wipe down everything in that office that you touch too. Call me back as soon as you leave so I can clean up the security feed. Leave the office door ajar so the guard finds it on his next round,” he paused, then added, “You have an hour to get it done and get out before he wakes up to do his next check.” He hung up after that. Awesome. Fantastic fucking Saturday.

“Okay,” Vaughn dragged the one syllable word out for a full four seconds before he jumped into motion. “Your lighter on your feet and can handle this,” he motioned his hand around the room, “So I’m gonna go to Sloane’s office and empty a couple boxes. Stack whatever we’re bringing with us outside of the door and I’ll load it up. Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”

He looked down at his feet and saw that he was standing in blood. I sniggered at his disgust. Guess we’re packing our shoes up too. Vaughn arched his head back and stared at the ceiling as he pulled one foot from his shoe using the toe of the other, and took a large step backwards. Once he had his clean foot on the carpet, the other still planted in a pool of blood on the office floor, he took his shirt off and wrapped his hand up so he could brace against the door frame. Then, he lifted that blood covered shoe my way and I rolled my eyes at his squeamish behavior.

“Say please,” I teased him with a saccharine smile on my face, “And I’ll untie it for you.” All the muscles in his stout upper body flexed as he held himself up.

He glared at me in agitation. “Please, hurry the fuck up. We don’t have time for games, Novak.” Yeah, yeah, I know.

I untied his shoe, and when it dropped to the floor I used it to carefully prop the door open. 55 minutes left. I traversed across the office as Vaughn disappeared down the hall barefoot and cursing under his breath. Who knew our mate would come with so much trouble?

I removed the computer from under the desk, delicately pulling all the wires and rolling them up together in a bundle that I wrapped my shirt around. The wires had a little blood on them, and I didn’t want to leave any on the floor when I set them down. I left the monitor but moved the files from the bottom desk drawer first, the one that didn’t have a hand hanging from it, so I could set everything on them. Arranging them on the carpeted floor outside the door, I placed the computer on the paper file folders to absorb any missed blood and stacked the wires on top. This is not my first time doing this.

The top drawers all held nothing of importance, so I moved on to the last bottom drawer. The one with the hand dangling from it. I used a pen to maneuver the drawer open, letting the hand fall naturally to the floor. I put the pen in my pocket so I didn’t set it down anywhere and leave partial fingerprints. I’m already in the database, and I don’t want a murder charge pinned on me. Inside the drawer was a broken, empty safe. Well, almost empty. I took my phone out and snapped a picture, then removed the envelope and placed it outside the door with the rest of the stuff. 45 minutes left.

Moving over to the shelves, I visually scanned them for anything noteworthy. I picked out eight books with Latin titles, or what I thought was Latin. They favored the books Palmer had in his room. I added those to my stack outside the door. I found three more books with old, worn leather bindings that looked like they could be something useful. There were a few trinkets on the shelves that caught my eye as well, so all that went into the pile. 37 minutes left.

Vaughn was making his way back to the office when I made my last trip, so I took his shirt to cover my fingers while I opened the rest of the books. Nothing hidden in them. Boring titles of no concern. They all went back on the shelves where they came from. I looked around the room one last time, spotting a jacket hanging on the back of the door. The pockets were empty so that was a bust. No cabinets and no closets. No hollowed out wall panels either, I checked. 24 minute left.

The last thing I grabbed was the bloody fucking phone with some poor old man’s prized possession laying on it. Don’t touch the dick. Don’t touch the dick. Don’t touch the-

The squeal that left my mouth was never to be talked about again. I’m not proud of it. Godsdammit. I tried to pick the phone up from either side, but when I lifted it that dead dick rolled right against the palm of my hand. The dick touched me. I’m gonna be sick.

“What the fuck was that?” Vaughn whisper-shouted from the doorway as he packed everything into the three boxes he brought with him.

I hurled the phone into the box sitting on top of the two he had already filled and started untying my boots to slip out of the office. “Dude, I touched the fucking dick.” I stopped what I was doing to rub my hands on my pants. I can still feel it touching me.

Vaughn let out a surprised hoot and shook his head at me. “That’s why you squealed? You’ve touched dicks before. I don’t see what the issue is with brushing up against that one.” He looked me over like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever met. He doesn’t get it.

“Yeah, but those dicks were attached to someone and warm. That one is NOT attached to anyone,” I whisper-shouted right back at him. “It’s cold and lifeless and severed at the end.” Another full body shiver worked its way through me again as I described why I was freaked out. That motherfucker was still laughing at me. He was folded over at his waist with his hands on his knees, sucking in breaths as he tried to contain himself. It’s not fucking funny! I gave him my back and began wiping the door handles down on both sides of the door.