A Flock of Ill Omens Read Online Free PDF Page B

to work.
    He opened all the windows, dragged the body out near the grave site, and turned the house fan on. It was finally starting to cool off outside, so the AC wasn't necessary and fresh air would be better than recirculating that bug stuff and the dead-buddy smell, anyway.
     
    Three hours later Matt was freshly showered. He invited Pam and Trevor out the next night for a sunset burial, figuring twenty-four hours gave him enough time to sort the rest of the noticeable things. He'd open some drawers and make sure nothing critical was mixed in with pictures, but Pam wouldn't be quizzing him on ordinary paperwork, provided he turned over any titles or documents pertaining to Trevor as soon as he ran across them. He had a little time. He wasn't sure how little, but at least a few days. He'd know more when he checked out the Kraken headquarters back in Tallahassee. That would tell him if this was his unit or mercenaries more broadly. Maybe he'd even drive on to Camp Blanding, an Army training and military reserve base that was the closest official compound he knew of. If this—whatever-it-was—was directed at all fighting units, that would tell him a lot about what his next steps should be.
    An initial scan of Pax's paperwork told him the guy still refused to carry any debt—he'd confessed to Matt several years back that it was because he wanted to stay off the grid, paranoid that Big Brother was following his every move. He had a singular vice of betting on boxing matches, but he did that in cash. And he'd been ordered to check in at Eagle Corp for his flu shot the week prior. The order was standard. Matt had gotten one, too, but he'd gotten a pass to skip it because he wasn't supposed to mix anything like that with his malaria shots. Besides, he was supposed to be out of the flu zone for six months anyway, eliminating his risk.
    Matt found Pax's Blackberry and checked numbers and his calendar, both confirming plans to have Trevor for the weekend. There were a few sexy texts from a woman named Maria; the area code suggested she lived in Orlando and the conversation told him they hadn't seen each other in almost a month. The calendar didn't have plans to see her again, probably because of Trevor, but Matt would give her a call in a few days to let her know what had happened.
    Pax's work contact, other than the flu shot, was even farther outside the time window—he was having the three months of downtime they got after being on a long mission. There was a meeting scheduled for early December to discuss his January deployment, but his only physical contact with anybody would have been when he went to headquarters for the shot.
     
    The next night at sunset Pam and Trevor arrived, followed by Mrs. Paxton, Pax's mom. Matt would have to remember to call his buddy Dwayne, or his mother might get confused. Mr. Paxton was sick with the flu and couldn't come. Matt normally didn't give in to ritual, but it seemed important here. He could count the number of people he considered friends on one hand; three fingers would have done it before finding Pax's body. Now he was down to two.
    They gathered around the grave site where Matt had put Dwayne's body into the hole and waited for the sun to turn the sky into an orange cranberry cocktail. Sending you off in a chick's drink , he thought. Maybe it would bode well for Pax being surrounded by ladies in the afterlife.
    “You know... Dwayne saved my life once,” he began.
    Mrs. Paxton turned on the waterworks and clutched Trevor's hand. The boy looked sad, but also concerned at his grandmother's action. Matt couldn't blame him. Old women and their grief could be needy. A heavy burden for a kid to carry.
    “We were brothers,” he continued. “Neither of us was easy to live with, and I can't say we never traded black eyes.” Pam chuckled softly, which Matt appreciated. “But when I needed someone to have my back, Pax–Dwayne—was the best man I could have asked for.”
    He glanced over