Chapter 5: Hunt for the Snake

The sound of glass breaking woke Roger up. Still delirious from sleep, he grabbed his weapon from his nightstand and slinked out into the hallway. It took him a few seconds to register the seven-year-old sheepishly standing on the kitchen counter as a threat he didn't need to shoot. He did need to watch where he was stepping, however, as the curious little girl had dropped one of his coffee cups on the linoleum floor, shattering little bits of ceramic everywhere.

"Don't move, I'll get the broom."

His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he was a little peeved at the early morning wake-up. This was not how he had planned to start his day. Plus, he was sure he was going to find bits of ceramic lodged in his feet for the rest of the week since he could never get all the bits the first time. He hadn't even had a good night's sleep to begin with since he was up all night trying to figure out how he was going to find a daycare center that would take Sun on such short notice. He clearly couldn't just keep skipping work because he now had to take care of a child for an undetermined amount of time, although he was sure Mrs. Lawrence would somehow cover for him, and he couldn't bring her to work for various reasons. He had grabbed his phone book and written down a list of potential child care centers, but he couldn't very well call them in the middle of the night. Grumbling to himself, he searched for the broom and dustpan in the hallway closet. When he came back, Sun was on all fours picking up the broken pieces of the cup by hand.

"Jesus!" He cried and motioned for her to dump everything into the trash can.

He inspected her hands closely to make sure there were no cuts. To his surprise there were none, but there were harsh black lines on her palms that he hadn't noticed before. In amazement, he watched as the black faded away, blinking a few times to make sure it wasn't a trick of the light.

"Sorry. I really wanted something to drink but I couldn't reach so I climbed up and bumped your cup and it fell and then broke and I'm really sorry and I'll pay you back." Sun said, rambling, but he was so amazed by what he had just witnessed that her words fell on deaf ears.

His alarm broke him out of his trance and rushed to his room to turn it off, walking straight through the pile of broken shards. Cursing loudly, he limped into his room and turned it off. Grabbing a pack of band-aids from the bathroom, he nursed his wounds. His day was going absolutely splendidly so far. Luckily for him, he didn't have to head to work until noon, which did give him some time to sort things out with Sun.

What was that thing he had seen on her palms? His brain was refuting the what his eyes had seen, trying to convince him that he was just seeing things because of a lack of sleep, but the last twenty-four hours proved that he needed to believe in the unimaginable. An idea hit him just then. He strolled out into the kitchen. Sun had already swept up the broken remains of his cup and dumped them, so at least this time he didn't need to worry about his feet getting torn to bits.

"We're going to try something." He announced to her.

She nodded, knowing that she was already in his debt. Roger grabbed a steak knife from the cutlery drawer and motioned for her to come over.

"Umm, I know I owe you a cup, but I don't think cutting me will solve the problem."

"Just, go with me on this."

Sun hesitantly came over. He gently grabbed one of her hands and pressed the knife to it.

"I'm really sorry if I'm wrong." Roger really hoped he was right otherwise he would have to turn himself in for child abuse.

Before she could react, he jerked the knife across her palm. Squealing, Sun reeled backward clutching her hand.

"What did you do that for?" She yelled.

"Let me see." He demanded.

"What?"

"Let me see your palm."

Sun gingerly held her palm out for him to see. She didn't know who was more surprised. Instead of the bleeding gash they were both expecting, black crystals coated the skin that had been exposed to the knife. They watched in awe as the crystals dissolved into her palm, revealing a perfectly intact hand.

"How did you know it could do that?" She asked with her mouth still hanging open.

"I didn't," he confessed.

Sun shot him a look, but couldn't muster up much anger considering she had just discovered her hands were immune to knife wounds. Curiosity prickled her skin and she knew there was no way she wasn't going to figure out the extent of this strange happenstance. Without warning, she snatched the knife out of his hand and literally stabbed her forearm. Roger cried out in alarm, but Sun stood there proudly holding her arm out for him to see. A larger accumulation of crystallized skin marked the spot he had stabbed. It took a little while longer for the oddity to dissolve but Sun's forearm was in perfect condition.

Roger noticed the mischievous gleam in her eye and knew she was most likely going to be stabbing herself repeatedly with a knife, and as much as he wanted to also find out the extent of her strange defense mechanism, he didn't want the seven-year-old he was tasked with taking care of accidentally killing themselves. If Sun really was immune to all physical trauma, at least he didn't need to worry about her getting hurt before he returned her to Red. He stopped her arm in mid-flight to stab herself in the stomach.

"Alright, let's stop there." He took the knife out of her hands and placed it in the sink.

"But why?" she whined. "I'm not actually hurting myself."

She had such a disappointed look on her face that Roger almost gave her back the knife. He kicked himself mentally for even experimenting in the first place. If he had been wrong…

"We'll play around later, alright? Right now we need to eat, change, and try to find somewhere for you to stay while I'm at work."

"Work?"

Roger had to remind himself that she had amnesia, though the irony did not elude him.

"I'm an inspector for the Detroit Police Force. Kids really aren't allowed, so most of the time parents drop their kids off at daycare. I guess at your age it would be school, but I can't enroll you on such short notice."

"Can't I come? I promise I won't get in your way."

He could see tears forming in her eyes, but he steeled himself to them. After all, he shouldn't get attached; he would have to give her to Red in the future and it would make it easier on the both of them if they kept a sense of distance.

Explaining to her that the police dealt with cases that children shouldn't be around, he started breakfast, hoping that would distract her from the topic. He went on to explain she would be around kids closer to her age and she brightened at the thought. They ate and stuck their plates in the sink, leaving the dining room to change into different clothes. He had to dip into his son's clothes to dress her after her bath yesterday and had to do that same that morning. Sun dressed in blue shorts and a green t-shirt, both slightly too small for her size, but fit nonetheless. Roger made a mental note to ask Mrs. Lawrence if she had any spare clothes for Sun.

It was nearing noon and Roger still hadn't been able to contact any daycares that would take Sun that day without having to fill out paperwork and he was beginning to panic. Would Mrs. Lawerence mind watching Sun in the lobby while he worked? Most definitely. He paced on the floor of his apartment trying to find out what the best course of action was. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small piece of paper sticking out from underneath his front door. Distracted, he grasped at it, having to use his fingernail to get any sort of grip. On his second attempt, it came through. On the small piece of paper were two lines of text:

Bright Beginnings, 1401 Broadway St. LO-3517

Mitch Gretton

Red was probably behind this since he recognized Bright Horizons from the phone book; it was a daycare within his area that he hadn't called yet. He didn't recognize the name, but he figured it was a contact at the daycare he could talk to. Giving them a ring, a friendly voice immediately picked up.

"Bright Beginnings, this is Leslie. How may I help you?"

"Hello. May speak to Mitch Greton?"

"I'm sorry, but no one works here by that name. You may have the wrong number."

"Oh," Roger said, thrown. "Aside from that, is there any opening to take on another child for the day? I'm a bit in a rush to get to work and haven't had time to figure out the child situation. I'd be happy to pay double and fill out the paperwork when I pick her up but is there any way you can take her on short notice?"

"Of course! What's your name, sir, and we can streamline the paperwork and get her in immediately."

Roger released the breath he had been holding. Relief surged through his system as he gave Leslie his information, explaining as much about Sun as he could provided the circumstances. The woman on the other line was courteous and completely understood, reassuring him that he didn't need to pay double and that he could fill out the paperwork at his leisure. When he hung up the small voice in his head was telling him that it this place was too good to be true, that he was going to find a child smuggling ring tucked away in their basement. However, when he got there to drop Sun off he was greeted with smiles and saw no signs of any illegal activity. Besides a few sniffly noses, he saw nothing wrong with the daycare.

Although Sun was hesitant to be dropped off, she quickly left his side at the beckoning of other children playing tag. He noticed that she was the oldest in the group and hoped she didn't mind being around the younger children. Roger handed his work information to Leslie in case of an emergency and pulled Sun away from the other kids for a moment to bid her goodbye.

"And no hurting yourself either." He told her, remembering their adventures that morning. "I don't want to get a call from anyone saying they found you stabbing yourself with a pencil or some shit like that, alright?"

Sun nodded vigorously, clearly wanting to get back to running around like a maniac. Roger couldn't help but worry when he let her go. He mentally prepared himself for the call anyway.

When he got to work there was no time to worry about Sun anymore because there was a huge commotion and officers were leaping into their cars, sirens blaring.

"There you are!"

Roger was just getting out of his car when John intercepted him

"Perfect timing, I thought I was going to have to go with a newbie."

John pointed to the patrol car that paired with the keys and motioned for Roger to get in. He didn't even have a chance to buckle himself before John pulled out and started speeding down the road, following the caravan of other cop cars.

"Another explosion, but this time on the pier. No witnesses or injured, but a whole lot of smoke and fire, and people love smoke and fire. It's a warehouse used to store foodstuffs, so we're unsure why it was targeted. I know the last one had smuggled weapons hidden in crates, but this one is literally just rice and flour, no glamour in it at all."

Roger's gears were spinning. It was too much of a coincidence for a note to appear with a name he didn't recognize and there just happens to be another fiery incident. Red was most definitely behind this attack, which meant that Mitch Gretton, whoever he was, was involved with his family's death.

"Do we know who the owner of the warehouse is?"

"Some local leasing company, but they just rent out the buildings. They don't own any property inside the warehouses. Apparently, it's a no-questions-asked business and there's not even a paper trail since the people renting the building pay the rent in cash by mail. I'm sure your eyes can find more at the location."

Roger could see a thick plume of smoke rising from the riverfront. This explosion was ten times bigger than the other one. Red was good at getting explosives it seemed, but they were also good at not littering the ground with bodies.

When they got to the pier there was a swarm of bystanders trying to get a closer look at the explosion. John and Roger had to push their way through the bodies to get to the scene despite calling out that they were there to investigate. The Lieutenant was speaking with reporters but cut his conversation short when he saw the pair heading over.

"Welcome to the scene boys. None injured, just a bunch of food on fire. Apparently, that deserves more coverage as our boys in blue get shot at last time. No idea who decided to bomb this place because they wasted a lot of explosives on it. Good luck trying to find a reason behind it."

With that, the Lieutenant left to deal with reporters once again. Roger approached the scene, but couldn't get near enough to actually investigate the area because of the flames. Along the pier were dozens of warehouses all looking identical to the one in flames. So why did Red choose this one? To get a clearer picture of the area, Roger asked the owner of the warehouses for permission to check out the other warehouses. The owner shrugged and angrily muttered something under his breath before handing over a few of the keys to the other warehouses. He and John entered the warehouse closest, finding it filled with crates. The smell was what hit them first, the stench of feces and urine, alerting them that something was clearly out of place. Grabbing a crowbar from the trunk of their squad car, John pried the top crate open.

"Holy fuck!" John exclaimed, leaping back in alarm.

Inside was the largest snake Roger had ever seen, easily twenty feet long if it stretched out. It was tightly coiled in its crate and Roger quickly slammed the lid over the mouth before it could escape.

"Get more officers to open these things up!" He barked at John, who was coming back to reality.

With more officers helping him, dozens of crates were opened, each holding their own treasure. By the end of the day, they had uncovered six anacondas, two leopards, fifteen macaws, twenty-six monkeys, five giant guinea pigs, three warthogs, and an assortment of multi-colored frogs. The other warehouses were checked as well, but they only contained food; this was the only one that had animals. The thing that was most confusing to Roger wasn't the fact that there were Amazonian animals stuffed in crates in Detroit, it was the fact that they made no noise. Even the birds were silent.

"How are they so quiet?" John asked, clearly wondering the same thing.

"Drugs maybe?" Offered Roger, though, in reality, he had no clue.

Red had obviously led him to this location for a reason, but how did these animals link back to his family's death? He stared at the snake's crate and watched it get carted away by some officers.

And who was Mitch Gretton?