Helix: Plague of Ghouls Read Online Free PDF Page A

I was based out of Halo County almost as soon as I graduated out of Aylmer. This is probably the same head Dick I’ve dealt with in the past. If not, it’s his son.”
    “No kidding. I thought your face was familiar.”
    “I was here back in the early ’80s. Palmer’s the reason why I jumped ship.” Two-Trees shuddered against the cold and gloom. “And let me tell you, I’m having all sorts of déjà vu right now.”
    Buckle looked confused and sceptical. “I’ve only been working here the last eight years. You been back since joining the Mounties?”
    Two-Trees felt his heart trip. Questions left unanswered beg more questions , he thought. If he tried to keep it a secret, and if Buckle figured it out on his own, he’d assume Two-Trees had something to hide. Two-Trees would need allies. People who trusted him. People who’d open up to him.
    “You remember the Pritchard Park murder?” Two-Trees asked. “About six years ago?”
    Buckle raised his chin. “Oh that. You were called in to identify the . . . remains.”
    What Two-Trees had seen at the lakeside park were remains, all right. There wasn’t enough left behind to be called a “body” or a “corpse.” And he’d been called in to do much more than identify the victim.
    “Only bones by that point, what with the fire and all,” Two-Trees said.
    Buckle nodded.
    “What do we know about this victim?” Two-Trees asked, before Buckle could lead him further down memory lane.
    “Not much so far.”
    “Just the one victim?”
    “We’re not a hundred percent sure of that either.”
    “Mother of God.”
    “You’ll see what I mean in a minute,” said Buckle. “But why leave the Mounties?”
    “Better pay, whenever I do get paid,” Two-Trees answered, “but I miss the benefits.”
    “Health and dental?”
    “Vacations,” Two-Trees said. His companion said ah and nodded rainwater from his hood.
    “Could’ve gotten tenure at a university, no?” Buckle asked.
    “And wipe undergrad asses all day? Thanks, but no thanks.”
    “Something to be said about being your own boss, though,” Buckle said. He pointed at Two-Trees’ ponytail, as if chiding him for abandoning the Mountie dress code. “For one, if you don’t feel like working one day or the other, you don’t have to.”
    “You serious? You’ve never been self-employed.”
    “Nope.”
    “Forensic anthropology isn’t something you want to have a lot of business in. You don’t get called into work until one or more people have died. And usually they die in bulk, five minutes after you’ve booked your all-inclusive. But until they die in a miserable, horrible fashion, you can’t pay the damned rent. It’s a hell of a way to live.”
    “Well, all the same,” Buckle said, “we’re glad to have you around. We’re usually pretty self-sufficient, but this one . . .” Buckle shook his head. He pointed to the evidence tent, which was illuminated from within by spotlights. “God, I wish this wasn’t my first X-File type case. I was assigned to Pritchard Park, too. You’re not the only one suffering déjà vu today. ” He pointed to a slick-looking pair of wooden planks that were supposed to serve as a bridge over the ditch. Black rainwater galloped over the bent weeds. If he trusted his own tread, Two-Trees would have leapt the water and saved himself the risk of embarrassment from sliding off plywood into ass-deep ice water. “I mean, I’ve seen a hell of a lot in my career, but this one takes the cake.”
    With his umbrella held high, Two-Trees crossed the plywood like a tight-rope walker. “What, you think it’s aliens?” he joked.
    “I don’t know what else to call it.”
    “A suspicious death.”
    “Suspicious!” Buckle scoffed. He was slightly shorter than Two-Trees, though an easy fifty pounds lighter. Two-Trees was well over six feet tall, and the broad-shouldered physique of his youth had been bloated by a steady diet of soft, sugary, gas station food. Buckle