Dream Grave Chapter 2 - Back in the Cog

Chapter 2
Back in the Cog

The hospital room was a vast exchange from his previous experience at the hotel. While the air was clean, it had a stale after taste, like that of tongue depressors and other sterilized products.

The rising sun had glazed the hospital room with a white sunlight, dazzling at face value and reflecting off the track blinds. Everything was white, from the tiles, to the walls, and the bed sheets. Only a small hint of green from overhanging arrowhead vines provided any sense of contrast.

A hefty nurse gave Z a reaffirming smile, “Doctor Monalo will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thanks,” Z muttered. As the door snapped shut behind her, silence engulfed the room. Only the sound of a heart monitor made it's occasional beep, the beep of a low heart rate, of a man in a deep sleep.

Sitting down in a chair at the side of the hospital bed, Z set down his suitcase. With an outreached hand, he takes hold of the older man's who lay dormant, unmoving.

He was a refined gentlemen, well into his sixties, dark skinned like Z, with white frizzled hair. There was an indescribable smile pursing his lips, as if the dream he were having was one of bliss.

It had all started six months ago. A new type of disease had begun infecting the populace of Vel City. Classified as a neurodegenerative disease similar to Alzheimer’s. The disease had an extremely fast rate of destroying the cortex and hippocampus of the brain, resulting in a complete shut down of the patients long and short term memories. Within months most patients would fall comatose, and many lives were taken as a result. The disease had become known as Dreamers.

Z's father, Jax Layton, had become one of the infected. Z had watched his father's memories fade almost immediately, and a month ago had been induced into a Coma. The rate of the diseases effect had burdened Z's mental health as well. Striking too fast for him to cope with the loss of his father.

Just thinking about it, brought a tear to Z's eyes. Without a strong mother figure in his life, Z had always been attached to his old man. He always looked up to him, not only as a father, but also as a role model, even well into his own adulthood.

An abrupt knock at the door broke the silence. Z quickly wiped the tears from his eyes, as a man in a white doctor's coat made his way into the room.

He was a tall man, even taller than Z, with big hands and a kind oval shaped face. Z stood to greet him. “Doctor Manalo.”

“Great seeing you again Z. How've you been holding up?”

“I'm more worried about him,” Z said looking down at the peaceful old man.

“Well, we've seen small improvements to the recovery of his brain tissue. Which is good news. It's possible he will begin recovering lost memories. And if we're lucky, even wake up.”

Z couldn't stand still with the news, as if a weight had been lifted. “Oh that's great doc.”

Manalo shifted his eyes, “the medicine you've been providing seems to be having a great effect.”

“I'm so relieved.”

“You know though Z, I hate to remind you of this, but DTM is illegal. Of course, I'm more than happy to continue administering it to Mr. Layton.”

“It's a damn shame what Novatech's doing. Why even develop an in house cure if they don't put it in the hands of the people who need it?”

“Oh, I'm sure they're working day and night to have a finished product,” Manalo said shortly. A silence emerged there after, neither of them believing the words he just spoke. “These things require testing, there's no guarantee it's a safe treatment.”

Z's brow furrowed slightly, “It's the only treatment there is! So better have them die than take the risk of other side effects!? What a load of bullshit doc.”

Manalo chuckled slightly, “I feel the same way Z.”

Z reaches into his coat pocket and removes the three green vials he obtained earlier that day. “I've got another batch.”

“Only three days this time?”

“Yeah, I ran into some problems earlier, it's all I could get.”

Z exchanges the bag of DTM vials with Manalo. Manalo gives him a worried look, “You know Z, you're a detective, you shouldn't be getting involved with the underworld. You're walking a tight rope, what if someone finds out?”

“There's not much choice for me doc.”

Manalo moves his way to the other side of the bed, taking a syringe and filling it with the green liquid from one of the vials. “Even so, I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into. DTM is a risky treatment, not only for legal purposes. Miss a day, and your father could go into epileptic seizure. Even if he wakes from his coma, this is a game you and him will be playing for the rest of your lives.”

Z looks away slightly as the doctor injects the DTM into his father's arm. “Believe me, I know, and I'm prepared for the worst.”

The doctor finishes the treatment, and begin disposal. Washing his hands, he looks back. “I hope so Z, of course this is just between you and me. Our little secret,” he smiles warmly.

“Thanks again doc, you're one in a million.”

“Oh don't worry about it,” Manalo said standing before Z. He reaches out to shake hands, “I can't wait to see your father's memory recover. Best saxophone player in Hell's Trench, hell, best that ever was.”

Z smiles, shaking Manalo's hand. “That's my old man alright.”

* * *

It was well past eight when Z walked into the police department, and it took no time at all for police chief Mauser to be in his face.

“Layton! You're twenty minutes late! Again!” Mauser's face was bright red in anger, the veins on his forehead bulging. “What's the problem here, can't show up to work on time? You a damn incompetent or what!?”

Z did his best to brush past the crude angry man. “Yeah sorry chief, it wont happen again.” Fortunately the chief didn't pursue him more than that, but he kept yelling anyways.

“Yeah that's what you said last time. If you're going to make a habit of this you're going to find yourself with outta job, y'hear me!?”

Z looked back and responded, “I gotcha boss.”

“Good, now get the hell to your office. Damn Skyring detective's been waiting for ya damn near an hour. Ya picked a bad day to be late!” Mauser threw his hands out and walked away steaming. He kept yelling as he headed to an unknown location in the office. Knocking a stack of papers off a desk in his rage, “Damn slacker, doesn't even realize the burden he's putting on me! Making me look bad in front of the big shots! God damnit!”

The entire office had gone into silence. Everyone was staring at Z. Without a word spoken, he slipped towards his office.

As Z grabbed the knob of the wooden door it struck him, he had completely forgot. A new detective had been hired as his partner for the cases he was working on. No ordinary detective either, she was from Skyring. All Z knew was that Skyring and Vel city did not mix, in cases like these, shit has already hit the fan.

Sitting at his desk was a woman with straight black hair in a high ponytail, the ends frayed. She did not seem to waste any time getting comfortable, as her feet were on top of the desk. She was whippet-thin, with a beauty mark on her chin and a pair of black shades blanketing her eyes. At his entrance she smirked, almost as if hiding something and said confidently, “Welcome to my lovely new office detective Layton.”

“Excuse me?” Z said abruptly, completely taken back by her demeanor. This was his office.

“Oh I suppose I should introduce myself then,” she said, kicking her feet off the desk and standing. “Rebecca Crossler.” For some reason or another she bowed after that, perhaps it was customary to do so in Skyring, or maybe her name qualified as a performance act.

“Zackarai Layton,” Z said smugly, he already had a bad feeling about this Skyring detective. The woman almost laughed at his name, removing her sunglasses, and revealing her deep violet eyes. Something about her eyes reminded Z of someone else he knew.

“Oh I've heard plenty about you,” she said, walking around the desk. She chose to sit on the front of it this time, her arms crossed, her tongue running across her dry chapped lips. “Zackarai Layton, one of the top detective's in Hell's Trench.”

Z couldn't help but blush slightly, the look she gave him was an endearing one, and he looked away embarrassed. Maybe she wasn't so bad. “Oh, you don't have to.”

“I know I don’t.” Z did a double take, starting to wonder if all the women in Skyring were abruptly chaotic for no particular reason. She was dead serious too.

“You what?”

“I said I know I don't. You're a joke Layton.” Z was taken back by this. “Solved three murder cases in the past year, which may sound impressive. But it's awfully small time work.”

“Oh, so murder is small time?” Z said a little irritated and confused.

“Oh yes. Down here, murder is common place. You could have pulled any rat from the street and solved it.”

“I think you're a little off the mark.”

“Oh really? Hah, well, it's pretty obvious if you still haven't solved the Kayde the Fang case. How long has it been now without any leads?”

She was really hitting hard now, had Z been an idiot he would have told her that he knows exactly where Kayde was, and for some reason, judging by the mellow smirk on her lips, that's exactly what she wanted him to say. Or maybe Z was just a little anxious, it was probably nothing. “Well I...”

“You what?” She stood and began pacing in a circle around him. “You don't have any leads do you?”

Z gritted his teeth, starting to become more suspicious that this may be a subtle form of interrogation. “No.”

Crossler patted him on the chest, “I thought so. See, that's why I'm here. She's assassinated two politicians in the last month. Things are getting a little hectic up in Skyring.”

“Oh really, why's that?”

She returned to the seat, propping her feet back up on the desk, “Why do you think?”

Man she sure asked a lot of questions. Z didn't bother answering this one though, luckily she liked to hear herself talk.

“Those politicians were put in power for a reason.”

“Yeah, and for what reason?”

“Control. Skyring calls the shots, not the people, I'm sure any idiot, even down here, would know that.”

“So there's a lot of crime up in Skyring?”

Crossler smiled, “Damn Layton, you sure ask a lot of questions don’t you?” Z could not help but return a blank stare, was she also a mind reader? “There's a bit, not as much as down here though.”

“Doesn't seem like you're that qualified yourself then,” Z retorted with a grin. “I'm the one dealing with the true gritty cases.”

She sat up, resting her elbows on the desk, clearly she couldn't sit still for very long. She was quiet a moment and then sent her hand out waving as if to dismiss it entirely. “No, but anyways, we're going to begin our search today. Starting with all the rundown apartments in Vel City. Door to door.”

“What makes you think she'd be hiding there?”

“Where else would she be hiding?”

“I wouldn't think there would be many tenant's willing to shelter an assassin. Besides, I already swept the city multiple times,” Z nodded. He felt very smooth, perhaps he could derail her investigation. He wasn't worried, there were a lot of apartments in Vel City, but why take the chance.

She looked up as if to ponder. “Hmm, interesting point Layton. Maybe you're better than I thought.” A moment passed in silence, she was clearly thinking very hard about it, beginning to bite her bottom lip. “Although... Kayde is an asset.”

This was new to Z, “An asset?”

Crossler started nodding profusely. “Yes, see, a criminal or organization might be sheltering her. In fact, it's possible they're the one's staging the assassinations. She's gotta eat right? And she's only good at one thing. Killing.”

This had not occurred to Z. The whole time he had been dealing with Kayde, it was on a personal level. But then again, there was the anonymous tip, with the password. Three knocks, five knocks, three knocks. For the first time he was wondering how deep the rabbit hole went. He hated thinking about the apartment. Deep down he hated himself for what he was doing. Being an accessory to murder. It was his job to stop these things from happening, and yet here he was part of the direct cause. Then again, what side was he really on, which part of him was the lie. Was he an officer of justice, or a terrorist?

He had solved many cases in the past, willingly. How much did his father's sickness change Z, or had he really changed at all?

Z found himself sitting in a chair at the front of the desk. When he looked up, he found Crossler staring at him intently, she was standing with her palms on the wood surface. “You feeling okay there Layton?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. You wanted to hit the apartments, then that’s what we should do.” Z had no idea why he said that, and he knew that he would soon come to regret it.

She clapped once full of vigor. “Oh, and one other thing I forgot to mention.”

Z was contemplating things of his own now. He wouldn't mind if things kept quiet for awhile. Even though Manalo had just given him this warning less than an hour ago. It suddenly felt much more real to him.

“I have this gut feeling that the recent drug traffic involving DTM is linked to Kayde the Fang, as well as the organization that plans the assassinations.”

Z's concentration was broken. He looked up at Crossler, trying to hide the shock on his face. “Kayde, the group that keeps her hidden, and the drugs. That's three birds one stone. Or maybe...” The familiar smirk crept up once more,  her violet eyes staring deeply into his. He watched her tongue glaze over her lips.

“Or maybe what?” Z could feel his heart quickening, how could she already be piecing so much together? Her stare seemed to cut through him. No matter what, he wouldn't let her catch himself or Kayde, he needed the DTM. There was no other way.

Sliding an arm through a black jacket, her smirk was changing into an evil grin. She gave no response.