Silent Creed (9 page)

Haywood County, North Carolina

C
reed watched Jason shovel in ham and eggs like a man who hadn’t eaten for a week. He didn’t even put the fork down to pick up a biscuit or the glass of water. Creed couldn’t help thinking the kid was already learning some one-handed bad habits. At the same time he sort of admired his survival skills.

The community had set up the high school gymnasium with cots for the rescue workers. The school cafeteria was right next door. Volunteers prepared meals, trying to accommodate the different shifts, and even providing sack lunches.

Creed and Jason took up a corner table out of the way, where they could also feed Grace and Bolo. He glanced down at the dogs and noticed that both of them ate slower and with more manners than Jason. Creed grabbed the last biscuit from the plastic basket and Jason noticed, stopping long enough to look sheepish about having devoured three to Creed’s one.

“I drove most of the night,” Jason said by way of explanation. “Nothing open after midnight.”

“Usually Hannah packs me a little something.”

“Oh yeah, she made me a couple of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee.”

Creed raised an eyebrow, but now Jason was preoccupied with slathering butter on his last biscuit.

Both men were in their twenties—Creed at the end and Jason at the beginning—but Creed realized the gap between them was a cavern when it came to many things, including appetite.

“She was pretty worried about you,” Jason said.

“Hannah worries too much.”

“She didn’t even want me waiting for Dr. Parker. Otherwise we could have rode together.”

“Dr. Avelyn’s coming?”

“I guess she got a call from some organization she belongs to.”

“VDRA,” Creed said. “Veterinarian Disaster Response Assistance. That’s good. That means she’ll help set up the decontamination process for the work dogs, too.”

“Yeah, I saw about a half-dozen dogs and trainers getting in this morning.”

Creed had convinced Hannah a few years back that they needed to have a veterinarian on-site at their facility. Avelyn Parker had her own practice with two other vets in Milton, Florida. When Creed built a clinic on his property, he convinced her to spend at least two afternoons a week there, paying her a generous monthly retainer that covered emergencies, too.

It made more sense having a vet come to them instead of crating and driving dogs continuously for even the basic services. But Dr. Avelyn had been adamant about being a volunteer member of an organization and needing to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. VDRA was one of several organizations that sent veterinarians to disaster sites like this one. They set up protocol for decontamination and were ready to treat any working dogs that got injured while on duty. They were also ready to treat animals harmed by the disaster—like the dog Vance’s crew had found buried in the car.

Thinking about that poor scared dog, Creed said to Jason, “Hannah shouldn’t have sent Grace with you.” He glanced down at her, and she was staring up at him from the mention of her name. He patted her, keeping his voice conversational and trying to leave out his concern. “She’s too small for this kind of terrain.”

“I don’t think Hannah expects her to work. She said she’s been missing you.”

That’s exactly what Hannah had told Creed when they talked just an hour ago. Although from the tone of her voice he suspected that Hannah thought he needed Grace to lift his spirits more than Grace needed him. Either way, Creed couldn’t deny that her presence always made him feel better. He had a special connection with each of his dogs, but Grace—whom Hannah called “Amazing Grace”—seemed to bring out things in Creed that even he didn’t know existed.

“I don’t like this man, this Peter Logan,” Hannah had said to him earlier, after explaining that Logan had called last night insisting K9 CrimeScents was obligated to send backup. He had demanded this only seconds after he told her that Creed had been buried under a landslide.

Creed knew she was giving him a way out. She would handle the business end and the consequences if he wanted to cancel the job assignment. But if Logan thought he had a debt that needed to be repaid, he wouldn’t allow a cancellation.

One of the cafeteria ladies came by with a carafe of coffee, refilling their cups without asking.

“Get you boys anything else?”

“We’re good, thank you,” Creed said, shooting Jason a warning when he saw the kid look at the empty basket of biscuits. “This was all delicious,” he told the woman, sending the crinkles in her face into a smile.

“How ’bout the dogs? I’m sure we’ve got a couple ham bones back in the kitchen.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I’ve got to keep them on a special diet.”

“Oh sure, I never even thought of that. We heard about you getting caught in that last slide up there.”

She pointed at the cuts on his face. The medics told him the one above his eye probably needed stitches, but they butterflied it instead. Said it was too close to his eye and neither of them wanted to be poking a needle there.

“We sure appreciate you all being here. You need anything, just holler. I’m Agnes. I’m here for the long haul.”

He nodded his thanks as she went on to the next table.

Creed had spent almost an hour in the boys’ locker room shower trying to restore his body while he ignored all the bruises and cuts. He still felt like he had mud in his ears and gravel scratching his eyes. His chest hurt. They suspected he had a broken rib or two. The medic had wrapped him up after his shower and Creed swore the bandage felt like it was crushing his lungs. But he’d had broken ribs before and knew better than to remove the wrap.

He shifted in his chair and realized he must have winced from the pain, because now Jason was watching him. Finally finished eating, Jason sipped his coffee. Sipping, not gulping. Maybe there was hope for this kid after all.

“So what was it like?” Jason asked.

“Breaking my ribs?”

“No, being buried alive.”

C
reed guessed that he hadn’t thought about it like that. Not yet anyway. Buried alive seemed so . . . final.

He reached for his ceramic mug, wrapping his fingers around it instead of using the handle. It smelled good and strong, just the way he liked it. He took a sip, taking his time to answer, and when he glanced across the table at Jason, he saw that the kid was waiting, willing to give him a chance to consider it.

“After I quit trying to fight it, it was actually kinda peaceful.”

“Kinda like going to sleep?”

“No dreams, though. More like hallucinations.”

They were both quiet for a while, then Jason asked, “You suppose that’s what dying’s like?”

“Maybe. You didn’t feel it with your arm?”

Creed knew that Jason must have been close to dying, having lived through an IED explosion that had literally blown off the bottom part of his arm.

Jason shook his head. “I guess I went into shock. Everything sort of happened in slow motion. I didn’t know my arm was gone until I woke up later in the hospital.”

That was the way it had been for Creed, too. One minute Jabar was grabbing for the cord on his suicide vest and the next thing Creed knew, he was waking up in a hospital reaching for Rufus. Yelling for him, then trying to climb out of bed to go look for his dog. But Rufus hadn’t been harmed. Creed’s body had protected the dog. Protected him so well that he was considered well enough to be reassigned to another handler and get back to work. Because that’s what the military did back then. Dogs were classified as equipment, given numbers that were branded into their ears. Rufus was N103 and he was fit for duty.

Creed knew all this too well. He had been ready to sign up for another tour of duty just so he and Rufus could stay together. And a stupid kid that Peter Logan had allowed to come and go in and out of their camp had blown everything apart.

“You suppose when you plan it that it’s that peaceful?” Jason asked, interrupting Creed’s thoughts. “You know, just like going to sleep?”

Creed had lost track of what they were talking about. “Plan what?”

“Death.”

“You mean like suicide?”

“I’ve got five buddies that I served with—maybe more. I haven’t stayed in touch with some. All we went through. We risked our lives every single day over there. We couldn’t wait to get back home. But they get back and then decided to eat their guns or swallow a shitload of pills. One guy managed to hang himself.”

Creed watched Jason over the rim of his coffee mug. He didn’t need to ask. He figured the kid had thought about it himself. Hannah had met Jason at Segway House, a place that took in returning soldiers who didn’t have anywhere else to go or couldn’t afford to return to their previous lives for one reason or another. He didn’t know Jason’s circumstances. He never asked. Figured he didn’t need to know. They hired him to do a job. Offered him a chance to learn how to train dogs. Even provided a double-wide trailer on their property for his housing. If the kid was looking for therapy he should have stayed at Segway House or, at the very least, talked to Hannah and not him.

Instead of telling Jason this, Creed told him, “My dad committed suicide.”

Jason stared at him. It wasn’t exactly what the kid had expected of this conversation, but he didn’t seem thrown by it at all. Finally he nodded and said, “Because of your sister?”

This time Creed was surprised.

“How do you know about my sister? Did Hannah tell you?”

Jason shook his head. “She didn’t need to tell me. All you have to do is Google your name.”

Creed’s sister, Brodie, had disappeared when she was eleven and Creed was fourteen. His dad was driving them back home, a daylong road trip from their grandmother’s house. His mom had stayed to take care of his grandmother, who had been sick. They stopped at a busy rest area because Brodie needed to use the restroom. Creed’s last image of his sister was of her skipping in the rain, the puddles lit up with orange and red neon from the reflections of eighteen-wheelers’ running lights and the dozens of brake lights.

“How’d he do it?”

Appeared the kid had very little manners.

Creed glanced down and saw that both Grace and Bolo had lain down at his feet. Grace, however, was watching him. Of all his dogs, she seemed the most sensitive to his moods. She looked anxious. He dropped his right hand and she nudged it.

Finally Jason realized his mistake. “Sorry. Just seems like if people talked about it more they might not actually do it.”

“Are you thinking about doing it?”

Another rescue crew came into the cafeteria, adding noise and distraction, but Jason kept his eyes on Creed’s and Creed could see the answer.

“You accepted a puppy from me,” Creed told him. He leaned down and scratched Grace behind the ears. “I understood you’d be around to take care of him.”

“A dog?” Jason half snorted, half chuckled, like he didn’t think Creed was serious.

“There’s been a time or two that these dogs were the only reason I stuck around.”

Jason got quiet and eyed him suspiciously, as if still waiting for a punch line.

“You don’t owe Hannah a thing, and you certainly don’t owe me, but you have an obligation to Scout. Yeah, a dog.” He sat up and leaned his elbows on the table, hands wrapped around his mug again. “You take a dog in, you earn his trust, his unconditional love. If you think there’s a chance that you might not be sticking around, then you need to give him back to me.”

“Seriously?”

Creed held his eyes, saw that what he was presenting was actually a decision for Jason to make, despite his attempt to make light of it now.

“Yeah, I’m serious. Most of my dogs have already been abandoned in some way. You need to remember when I found that puppy he was stuffed into a burlap bag with his siblings, ready to be tossed into the river. If you’re planning on offing yourself and abandoning that dog again, you might as well give him back now.”

Jason’s eyes flitted away, suddenly interested in the rescue members shedding gear and clanking trays and silverware. He looked at Creed again and there was still too much curiosity when he asked, “Did you see your dad do it?”

Creed wondered if the kid had heard a word he’d said because he certainly didn’t seem to take any of it seriously.

“No,” he told Jason, “but I was the one who found him.”

Creed saw Oliver Vance across the room. When he spotted Creed he waved at him. He had shed his gear and, though still a giant of a man, he looked half normal. He made his way toward them.

Creed put his mug on the table with an exaggerated tap and told Jason, “Time to work.”

“How are you doing?” Vance asked, pulling up one of the metal folding chairs. He swung his leg over it like he was saddling a horse, sitting on it backward so he could lean his arms on the back.

“I feel like I rolled down a mountain,” Creed told him.

The big man laughed, loud and hard.

“Actually, the mountain rolled on top of you.”

“Oliver Vance, this is one of my trainers, Jason Seaver.”

“Call me Ollie,” he said, holding out his hand to shake Jason’s, and when he realized Jason’s right hand wasn’t there, Vance didn’t flinch. He simply switched and offered his left one.

Then he looked at Creed, not wasting time and getting down to business. “I heard that your Mr. Logan wants you back up there to recover those bodies we found. Last night we pulled two more people alive out of the rubble of what used to be their home. They’re pretty beat-up but there’s a good chance they’ll make it.”

“That’s great,” Jason said.

Vance’s eyes stayed on Creed’s. “Just got word that an eighty-two-year-old woman across the bridge over in the Hillcrest development’s been missing since the first night. They got some flooding over there but houses are intact. None of the properties were affected by the slide. She has dementia. They think she might have walked off, looking for her daughter. They live together and the daughter got caught up in the downpours. Got home late. Found the front door left open. Family’s been searching the woods. No sign of her. That’s two nights she’s been out in the dark, alone, confused, lost. Temperature’s supposed to drop tonight so we can add cold to that list.”

“If she’s still alive,” Creed said.

“That’s true. I’ve got a few hours before I have to get back to work. I thought I’d run over there.” Vance glanced around the cafeteria. A group was leaving and waved at him. He waved back. “All I know is there’s a chance one of your dogs might be able to find her. Save her life if she is still alive. Those bodies Logan wants you to find . . . Hey, I know he’s paying you and you gotta do the job.”

Vance looked around again, and Creed wasn’t sure if he was expecting Logan to walk in the door at any minute. Then his eyes came back and locked on Creed’s as he said, “All I’m saying is that those dead guys aren’t going anywhere. Maybe they can wait a little while longer.”