Page 3 of Brody
Since we’d moved to a new area, there wasn’t much open space yet. That would change as we cleared out more of the trees, but for now, we were still surrounded on all sides by a towering wall of greenery. The shadow of the canopy cooled the area by at least an extra ten degrees, and never let the forest floor property dry out, so there was a constant smell of clean, damp earth and fresh pine.
The control cage of the harvester vibrated around me as the saws bit into the wood of the next tree, and with each passing moment, I felt the irritation draining out of me. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry earlier. The whole reason I’d chosen to work for this company was because of their dedication to sustainable logging. A less ethical company would have simply ignored the presence of protected plant life and continued harvesting the area as planned. I should be thankful that my bosses were willing to uproot and move their whole operation to protect the forest around us.
If only they didn’t try to make up for their losses by putting impossible demands on their workers.
There was a shift in the controls under my hands as the saws of the machine finished cutting through the tree trunk, and I pulled the harvester back. Ropes, which had already been tied to the trunk, directed it to fall in a safe direction away from the works,but there was always an element of unpredictability once gravity took over.
With a resounding crash, the large tree trunk hit the ground, crushing smaller bushes that there hadn’t been time to clear away under its weight.
At that exact same moment, my phone started ringing. The ringtone was barely audible over the noise of the falling tree and other nearby machinery, but the moment those familiar musical notes reached my ears I instantly darted my hand down to the phone at my hip.
That ringtone was connected to only two numbers. Magnus and Creed. No matter what was going on, even when I was in the middle of work, I would always pick up their call.
“Creed,” I greeted once I’d looked at which number was calling. “I’m working right now so I can’t talk long. What’d you need?”
Creed’s familiar voice was undercut with static when he spoke, an unfortunate effect from the many miles that separated us.
“Any more news about the body?”
He didn’t need to specify which one.
“No. We’re certain that the body isn’t Jacob Thornley like we originally thought, but they still haven’t managed to identify who it belongs to. Although, I don’t think authorities are trying very hard. A cold case more than a hundred years old isn’t exactly a priority, especially when they aren’t even certain if a crime actually happened.”
The static picked up, completely cutting off his voice for a moment, but I still caught the end of his statement.
“…no one buries a body under concrete for no reason.”
“Probably not,” I agreed. “But so far, we’ve got things handled. It’s fine.”
Magnus and I had mutually agreed not to tell Creed about his last trip out to the secret mausoleum. If Creed knew that Magnus had been drugged and left wandering around the forest hallucinating for an unknown about of time, he’d probably do something drastic. Going AWOL to sneak back stateside and check on Magnus for himself was not outside the realm of possibility for Creed. The man was a walking bundle of extremes, always running either too hot or too cold. He didn’t need that kind of distraction during his last few months of service.
In the background of the phone call, I could hear the faint sound of a pen scratching over paper. Creed tended to doodle when he was nervous. It was an oddly endearing habit for the otherwise intense man, and a clear sign that he was more stressed over the situation that he was willing to admit.
“Still, I hate that you guys are dealing with all this without me there. I’ve asked around about a way to get discharged early, but so far, no luck.”
His voice twisted tight with frustration until he was merely grumbling under his breath. Creed wasn’t a man who was regularly told no. He had a way of always getting what he wanted, one way or another, even if he had to strong-arm the solution into existence. However, military bureaucracy was a different kind of monster. No amount of threatening would make it bend to his will.
“What?” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “You think we can’t handle one dead body without you? Or are you jealous that you’re missing out on the fun? Military life’s gotten too boring for you?”
Although I couldn’t see Creed, I could easily picture his stony expression and the way he was probably crossing his arms right now.
“Shut up. I’d prefer a little boredom. They’re sending me out on another mission soon.”
“Oh?” I sat up straighter behind the controls of the harvester. “How long?”
“Don’t know. Don’t have all the details yet, but I’ll probably be out of contact for a while. I don’t want to say this’ll be my last mission, but…”
Creed was retiring in just a few months. If this upcoming mission was as big as he was implying, it would likely eat up the last of his service time. However, calling something your “last mission” out loud was just asking for trouble.
“Be careful,” I said, putting as much weight behind my words as I could. “Don’t do anything stupid. Just keep your head down, do your job, and get out. This is a three-man operation that Magnus and I are trying to set up by ourselves. We need you here.”
“Hey. You know me. When have I ever done anything stupid?”
“Do you want that list alphabetically or chronologically?”
“Ah, fuck off. You and Mag take care of yourselves, and I’ll talk to you later.”
After saying our goodbyes, the phone line went dead, and I stared at the black screen with a heavy heart. Magnus, Creed, and I had met early in our military careers, and always had each other’s backs from that point on. It certainly wasn’t the first time we’d been on different missions, but it was our longest stint of separation.
