Recycle - 9. Chapter 9

Elena quickly discovered the shooter was very active,

because that afternoon, another report came in from the UMass police, also from two nights before. A guy was walking on campus when he was shot. At first, he thought it was a Nerf dart, then he pulled out the sharper one. But he also figured ‘The hell with it,’ and sat on a bench to wait.

“He wanted to catch the shooter himself ,” Elena reported. “Wanted to be a hero. He also wanted the trophy of a real tattoo to show off, and he was sure he could stay awake if he stayed angry enough. So he kept chanting, ‘Up Yours! Up Yours! Up Yours! Up Yours! Then he passed out.”

“UMass guys are all the same,” Jae cracked, though she knew better.

“All he got for it,” Elena went on, “was waking up on the bench with his jacket open and his thermal Henley squashed around his neck. And the big tattoo on his chest.”

“Bet he was happy about that,” Rob cracked.

“The police say he’s been strutting ever since.” Elena passed around her phone, which showed one of the guy’s photo postings.

“This isn’t black,” Owen noticed.

“No... bright red,” Elena confirmed.

“And the big tattoo again?” Owen went on.

“Yes... you can clearly see the circle.”

“At least, the guy wasn’t moved,” Jae commented. “I was never comfortable with that other guy being shifted from the driver’s seat – especially over the hump. I thought maybe he was the shooter and was faking us out by giving himself an alibi.”

“Is that possible?” Ike asked Elena.

“Well, I met with him later,” she replied. “After we spoke on the phone. He’s a small guy... kind of light... I’ll bet no more than 5'-8", 140 pounds.”

“That makes me feel better,” Jae admitted.

“But is there the chance any of these people have been the shooter?” Ike pursued. “And are simply covering themselves?”

“I really don’t have a sense of that,” Elena assured him. “But I’ll go back and look.”

“We’d appreciate that.”

“You think it’ll happen again tonight?” Rob asked.

“That may depend on the publicity,” Elena said. “There was some last night... and I’ll bet you were all watching, too. We got on the Springfield stations – the five and eleven o’clock news – but nothing from Hartford. And Springfield not only mentioned the old and new tattoos, they had mock-ups of them. The UMass police must’ve sent photos.”

“Anything happen on campus last night?” Ike asked.

“Yes... unfortunately... at least near the campus. A freshman, walking back alone from one of the bars, didn’t quite make it. He passed out on a residential sidewalk.”

“No one else saw him and helped?” Jae asked. “Taking the same route?”

“Well, it appears he made a side trip to the bushes,” Elena added, trying not to smile. “He claims it was for the obvious... he couldn’t make it back to the dorm john... but the campus police aren’t sure he was alone.”

Don gave a grunt-like laugh, and Ike quickly turned to him, as amused, saying, “You know, straight people do that, too,.”

Don grinned. “Straight people prefer privacy.”

“A freshman?”

“All right, guys,” Owen interrupted, also smiling. “This is a bit off topic.”

“I haven’t been able to get through to the boy,” Elena continued. “And he is only a boy – seventeen.”

“Well, now he’s been tattooed,” Ike joked. “That makes him a man.” He immediately added, “Of course, I’ve seen six-year-olds showing off tattoos that I hoped were fake. And twelve-year-olds with probably real ones.”

“Not legally,” Owen objected.

“Some kids don’t listen to their parents,” Rob grumbled.

After lunch, a second report came in, this time from the Amherst police. It was another spontaneous attack, though on a woman. “It’s slightly different,” Elena explained. “The tattoo started below her bra, so that never came off. And afterward, her T-shirt had been rolled down and her jacket rebuttoned.”

“A respectful shooter,” Don said. “If restless.”

“Maybe relaxed after a two-week break,” Ike offered.

“This was another freshman who couldn’t stay awake,” Elena went on, “though it looks like there was pot involved. She was walking in the cemetery, sat down to rest, and got too comfortable.”

“What was she doing there?” Rob questioned.

“Looking for Emily Dickinson’s grave,” Jae and Elena chorused, smiling. “And thinking about life,” Elena tacked on. “It seems the pressures of college... especially the Amherst competition... are getting too much.”

“You talked with her?” Owen asked, as he had the day before.

“Yes... again, on the phone. And I went through the files on all the other people who’ve been attacked. I think they’re real.”

Owen nodded and said, “I hope they put out extra officers tonight.”

“Almost makes me want to go myself,” Elena coaxed, looking to Owen for permission. But he had his mouth screwed up like a kid’s, which she knew meant “No.”

“When do you think the shooter will have enough?” he asked instead. “Now that the publicity’s back?”

“The problem is the Nerf wars haven’t stopped,” Elena admitted. “The UMass frat guys are having great fun. And no one’s connecting that with Recycle.”

“Not even the TV stations and the Internet?”

“Not really. Last night, it was all about the shooter.”

“That may be enough,” Owen offered. “Maybe this will stop.”