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Callister’s legs wobbled and her face contorted in misery and fear, and she cried out, “It’s too late for all of that,” and the Velcro rippedopen and her fingers slipped down to the cold, slick surfaces of the vials inside.
Letty said, “Green light.”
An instant later, Callister’s head exploded, and her face seemed to fly off into the dark.
And Hawkins said, “Oh my God, oh Jesus…”
“Easy there,” Letty said, though there was something grotesque about the way that bullet shattered Callister’s head. Not like in the movies, not at all.
Cartwright was walking toward them, holding the rifle by the barrel, the stock on her shoulder. She looked down at Callister. Her face was flat, unmoved by the other woman’s shattered skull. She said, “Hope you made the right call, girlfriend.”
“She had the fanny pack open,” Letty said.
“Then you made the right call,” Cartwright said. She looked at Hawkins and said, “Buck the fuck up, redcoat.”
“I…”
“Don’t want to hear it,” Cartwright said. To Letty: “Think we should take a peek at the vials or tubes or whatever they are?”
“No. She tried to open her fanny pack, but we killed her before she got it open. We stand back, way back, and let the guys from Fort Detrick deal with it. We should be okay if we stand back.”
“Maybe. If the cops don’t shoot us,” Cartwright said. She was looking down the entry road.
Letty turned to look and saw two Santa Fe police cars coming in a hurry, light racks flashing into the growing dawn.
Behind them, the airport security man stuck his head out the door and he said, “I called the police.” He saw the body, and asked, “What have you done?”
Not waiting for an answer, he stepped back inside the terminal and they heard the door lock snap home.
Letty said to Hawkins, “We’ll meet the cops. Block the road with your body, don’t let them through. We need to talk them down. They’re going to be scared and probably pissed off because they’re scared.”
“Wonder why?” Hawkins said. Then, unexpectedly, he caught Letty by the shoulders, pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “You and Barb are something different entirely.”
Cartwright called, “How come I don’t get a kiss?”
“Just haven’t gotten to you,” Hawkins called back, and he started to smile but caught sight of Callister’s shattered face and twisted away and said, “Oh Jesus, I can’t…”
“Buck the fuck up,” Cartwright snapped.
Letty said, “Let’s go meet the cops.”
—
The three ofthem walked down the road, but a few feet apart, so the patrol cars couldn’t get past without running them over. Behind them Cartwright unlimbered the rifle, the barrel pointing down, but the recoil pad pushing up against her shoulder.
The cars stopped thirty feet short of them, a cloud of dust rolling out from under the wheels. Letty and Hawkins continued walking slowly forward, Letty holding out her ID with one hand. There was one cop in each car, and they both got out but stood behind their car doors, and one of them shouted. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”
Letty shouted back, “Homeland Security. We need you to block the entry road, not let anyone past.”
“What are you talking about? What happened to that…” He didn’t say ‘body,’ but he pointed.
“We shot her. She’s dead. This is one of the serial killers we’ve been hunting up in Taos. You probably heard about it.”
The two cops exchanged some words, then looked back at Letty. “Is this one of the germ people?”
Letty: “What?”
“Is this one of the people trying to spread the germs?” the cop shouted.
