...“So, what happened in the forest?”
Chris told her every detail he could remember down to how squished the truck was with all the men. She didn’t seem surprised, but interested. The only question she asked at the end was if he had fun.
“Yes. I think I did. It was exhilarating I suppose. Gets your adrenaline going, you know?”
Katrina’s smile dropped of her face and she nodded towards the door; “Incoming.”
Chris looked in that direction and saw Mary-Jo in a sleeveless, yellow, flower-print dressing weaving through tables to get to them.
“Good. I caught you. I heard you were here.”
“Ho—“
“Can you come over tonight for dinner, something came up and the dinner has been bumped to tonight,” She paused for a moment, looking between Chris as Katrina. “Oh, please tell me you’ll come.” She leaned on the table, pushing her chest forward as if to use her overly large breasts as a bargaining chip. The look on her face was sincerely concerned.
“Um, yeah, sure.”
“Oh goody.” She bounced and clapped her hands. For a moment, Chris thought he felt the café shake. “Shall we say between five and six?”
“That sounds…good.”
“Great. Don’t forget your note-pad.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Chris said condescendingly.
Mary-Jo gave a wave and made her way out. Everyone in the Café was looking in their direction; intrigued at what just took place.
“What was that about?”
“I don’t know. But should we get out of here?”
“Yes, I suppose.” They got up and moved through the tables of gawking people.
Chris lead the way out of the café, eyes following them like a Victorian portrait. He was feeling much more calm now, Katrina seemed to have brought him down to her level.
“Let’s go to the church’s park and talk; we won’t be disturbed there.”
“I would love to but I have to meet Glen. Can we meet in an hour?”
“Can I come?”
Chris smiled, “Even better.”
They walked around the block--the long way to the police station.
When they got inside it smelled of stale coffee and peppermint gum.
Glen was the only person to be seen; sitting behind a generic desk with a mound of neglected papers and a small bushel of mail in the corner. When he saw them, he looked as if he had just won the Publisher’s Clearing House grand prize.
“Hey guys, I was hoping you’d come in soon. There’s not much going on in the town right now.” He patted the stack of papers.
“So now would be a good time to talk to you?” Chris asked.
“Better than any.” He pointed towards the empty seats across the desk.
Katrina sat next to the wall and Chris next to her. “Great. Do you mind if I borrow a piece of paper and a pen?”
Glen looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“I kinda forgot my notepad. I’m new at this whole journalism thing.”
“No problem,” Glen dug around in his desk while Chris and Katrina stole a glance from each other.
Glen pushed a pad of paper and a pen towards him. “You can keep the pen.” He winked at Chris.
Chris twisted the pen between his fingers. Forest Hills Police Dept. “Couldn’t afford the whole word ‘Department’?” Chris asked.
“No, it just didn’t fit.”
“I was just kidding. Nevermind.” Chris swallowed uncomfortably and marked Glen O’Toole interview at the top of the page. “How long have you lived in Forest hills?”
“Born and raised.”
“And, how old are you?”
“Twenty four.”
“How long have you worked for the police department?”
“I started training about three and half to four years ago.”
“So you were an officer when the infection started to spread? Tell me about that.”
“I came after they banned the department from fighting.”
“What do you mean?”
“Too many officers died or something, so it was left up to those two bearded cavemen.”
“Glen,” Katrina shook her head.
“Sorry,” Glen glared at Katrina. “Forgot they were your best friends.” He searched the roof for something to look at.
“Jerrid and Gregory you mean?” Chris asked.
“Yeah.”
“What do you have against them?”
“I just don’t see why they should be allowed to continue to fight and guard the town while the police department are taking care of old Mrs. Mortgensen’s cat. I’d prefer the tree top too, if I was the cat.” Glen rolled his eyes.
“Okay, So, tell me about the first encounter you had.”
“Most of it was when I was a rookie; before they force was restricted to town duty. We were called to a spot over in the neighborhood—by Katrina’s house—where a group of dogs and cats were taunting an old shiatsu. By the time we got there, both of its ears were missing, bits of flesh were either hanging off or gone and the animals continued attacking.”
“Why do you think it was the only one being attacked?”
“Because it was the oldest, of course. It was most vulnerable.”
“Of course,” Chris said under his breath. “Has any of your family been affected by this?”
“Not my direct family, but when Katrina’s parents were…you know. They were like my family too.” Glen looked at Katrina like a puppy needing a home. She rolled her eyes. He turned his gaze back towards Chris, with quick flickers towards the door. “You do know what happened, don’t you?”
Katrina was appalled that he would use her dead family to try and one-up Chris.
“Yes, I do.” Chris gave him a warning glance; telling him not to continue on that subject.”
“So, what have you had to deal with in ways of human victims of the infection?”
“None really. I’ve been lucky that way.”
“You’ve never seen a human infected?” Chris had the feeling that this was a wasteful interview.
“I had to kill an infected baby once.”
Chris regretfully perked up in his seat.
“Just ‘bout bit the mother’s nipple right off.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Serious as a heart attack. I thought it was weird that a baby that was that old was still breast-feeding too. The only reason we knew the baby had the infection. The mother tried to cover it up, but Doctor Stevensen made us privy to that info when she came in claiming to have a serious infection. By the time we got to her, the baby was irate and his veins looked purple. When we tried to hold him. He would try and scratch and bite. We had to put him down.”
