Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Chapter Five

"List of suspects?" My voice is uncharacteristically dark and I take a few steps towards the soldier. He shakes his head,

"I don't have names, nobody has a name. But, I did hear something about a man, or some small group, staying out near the wharf in area five. I guess we've been having perimeter issues around there. It's no surprise, there are a few empty warehouses out there and nobody ever patrols them. My best guess, start there if you want to find who did this. As far as I know, all FEDRA is planning to do is to sweep the warehouses tomorrow and then call it if they don't find anything. They don't want people knowing about this, they're hoping it just stops. They're worried a riot will break out. We don't have the numbers to go investigating this, we still have our orders. My guess is that we're just going to blame the first man who looks at someone the wrong way." He spills more information. My fists clench involuntarily as he says FEDRA is basically trying to sweep this under the rug to stop a potential riot. It seems that good old-fashioned vigilante action is going to be needed after all. Appreciative of his cooperation, I toss the pills over to him.

"Thank you. Those are on the house." I say as I make my way out of his apartment, on a newfound mission.

I feel as if I'm practically flying to area five, near the wharf. I'm familiar with the empty warehouses, there are plenty of transactions I make there. But, I've never noticed any sign of someone living there before. Usually, even just one straggler leaves some sort of evidence. Unless they're dumping their evidence into the water.

I begin searching the warehouses one by one, knowing that this might take a good while to be thorough. I intend to search each warehouse with a fine tooth comb. Those children deserve someone to fight for their justice. And if FEDRA isn't going to get these families justice, then I sure as hell will. I know I would want someone to do the same if it were my child.

The sudden thought of Lucas makes my heart constrict with sadness, and I find myself clutching the necklace that never leaves my neck; a constant reminder of my family who are only with me now in spirit.

The first warehouse proves to be empty, every surface is covered with a thick layer of dust and nothing has been recently disturbed, save for rat droppings here and there. The second warehouse is also empty, but I did find some spent shell casings. Probably remnants of some shootout, but I don't know if the killers had anything to do with it, they seem to be keen on using blades.

With hope, I step into the third, and final, warehouse that sits on the wharf. The creaky old building looks like it could fall over at any second and so I'm careful of where my steps land. I take my flashlight out to look at every minute detail, looking for anything that suggests someone is staying here. I take a deep breath and stand up straight as the faint scent of a fire tinges my nose.

Carefully, I make my way up the warehouse stairs to where a small landing overlooks the rest of the building. To my surprise, there's the remains of a poorly constructed fire. It looks like it's been put out for a while, but was lit recently, as evidenced by the warmth of the wood. The floor surrounding the fire suggests that there were at least two people here, there are two different shoe tracks imprinted in the dusty floor.

I walk over to what looks like a makeshift mattress, made out of broken down cardboard boxes. Crouching down, I examine some scattered papers. There's a hand-drawn map of the QZ and there are circles drawn around areas with accompanying notes. I read the notes scribbled on the edges of the paper and realize I'm looking at the killer's plan. I feel like I could throw up as I read what it written on the paper.

They had singled out their victims, made note of their physical appearances. The notes imply that the killer wanted nothing more than to defile the victims in any way possible. It's almost like the killer, or killers, were playing a game. After I've read everything, I fold the map and tuck it in my back pocket, looking for any other evidence they might have left.