Broken Pieces

SHAY

The sound of broken glass crunching beneath my white slip-on sneakers reverberated through the silence the moment I stepped into the living room of the home that I shared with Marcus. I looked down, seeing the evidence that he had been drinking. Again.

Ignoring my sore body from pulling an all-nighter at the medical building, I grabbed a broom, garbage bag, and paper towels to clean up after the mess he created.

Marcus didn't like my work as a nurse. He said I was risking my health, my life.

He has offered to make me his secretary. That way I wouldn't have an actual work and would be in his sight twenty-four seven.

I was well aware that it was his way of trying to protect me. He was worried about my safety.

He was scared of losing me to X.

I wasn't.

Death is fortuitous. It is something that cannot be hindered, no matter how much we wanted to.

However, if I get killed by X, I was willing to accept that fate. 

But not without a fight.

"Shay." Startled, I accidentally pricked my forefinger with a shard of broken glass.

I turned towards where Marcus' voice had come from. He was standing by the enormous glass window overlooking some parts of the zones. It was the dominant view in the living room.

There was an assortment of reflected lights dancing from the various buildings. A reminder that it wasn't only me and Marcus, who were still awake at this hour.

I often compared those dancing lights to the stars that I used to stare at before this new world existed.

There was no such thing in this reformed world that Marcus Zephanie had created. The night and day were merely known by the ticking of the clock. 

The sun and the moon would rise and fall like clockwork, blanketing everyone in how vast technology had changed everything. 

There was no 'natural' nature to breathe fresh air or admire while taking a stroll or on vacation.

This reformed world was only a series of buildings after buildings. Outside of it, only ruins of what the world was remained.

Through the dim light, I could see the sadness in Marcus' expression. There was a half-filled bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

He was also noticeably shirtless, which only meant one thing: he has visitors. Female visitors, inside the closed doors of his bedroom. And if I was going to make a guess, there might be two or three. It depends on his mood.

I sighed, dabbing a paper towel on the tiny wound on my forefinger, and held it there.

"I'm sorry about Peter."

I watched Marcus take a swig from the alcoholic drink in his hand before he raised it above his head to make a toast.

"To Peter, the best friend someone like me doesn't even deserve."

He sat on the marbled floor, sipping his drink.

I made my way towards him and joined his crossed-legged position.

Marcus turned and faced me; his eyes brimming with tears.

"It could have been you, Shay. It could have…" He trailed off, taking another swig.

"But, it wasn't."

"Yet." I still find it hard to believe that this fifty-year-old man had raised me and wanted to care for me like I was his flesh and blood. He looked so vulnerable. I wanted to have the capacity to ease his distraught.

But, at this point, I knew no words can ever comfort him.

I went closer and grabbed his whiskey bottle, pulling him in a tight hug.

I closed my eyes as Marcus' body trembled beneath my hold. He was crying.

"I'm still here, Marcus. I'm not going anywhere."

I stared at the glass window where the lights seemed to dance.

It's the least I could do to punish myself for what I have and haven't done.

--

RAFAEL

"They found strychnine in the victim's body, which caused him to convulse and contort like he had a heart attack." I blew out a tired sigh.

It had always been like this. A new corpse would surface. No matter which angle we looked at it, with no trace of evidence to draw us closer to identifying who X really was, this case seemed hopeless.

"A poison. Last time, it was cold blood. I think X must have a personal hatred for Ivan Yun, but with Peter Trellis, he went a little gentle by using the poison." I closed my eyes, throwing my head back, and stared at the ceiling.

"Or he might have just wanted to do it that way. He has no distinct method of killing, but he's pretty consistent with the connection to Marcus Zephanie." Ronald shook his head, sighing.

I snapped my eyes open. A sudden thought occurred to me.

"Yes, and what if there was a pattern there that we might have overlooked?"

I grabbed the files containing all that we have regarding X's case, searching for each victim's pictures. I arranged them in the order of when they were killed.

"His first target was Alice, Marcus's wife. The second was Alexander Winters, the man who helped him build this new world." The more that I looked at it, the more sure I was that my theory might be correct.

"Okay, what's the pattern here, Rafael? I'm still in the dark."

I pointed towards Peter Trellis' photo, staring at my partner dead in the eye.

"X has started killing right after the apocalypse. He appears to be targeting Marcus's associates in the order of whom he met first and ended up having a deep connection with when he began building this new world."

Ronald's eyes widened.

"How did you… where did that come from?" I was giddy with excitement, and I can't help but flash a huge grin towards my partner and friend.

"Well, they were all connected to Marcus Zephanie, you reminded me of that consistency, and somehow that triggered a perspective that I haven't thought of before. X started murdering people around Mister Zephanie's life after the apocalypse. There was still the question of why X was doing all of this. But if my hunch is correct, I think we found a pattern."

"You have a weird brain Rafael, but it's a genius weird brain."

"The heck it is. We're finally making progress." Ronald gave me a high-five. 

"So, if we could figure out whom he met right after Peter, we could prevent his or her death and finally catch X."

"Bingo." I gazed at the pictures of all the people whose lives had ended just because they were part of Marcus Zephanie's inner circle.

A feeling of warmth settled inside my chest. We cracked something. I didn't feel so hopeless anymore.

X wasn't as invincible as I thought. We now have a fighting chance to save a life and get justice, which, I believed, was long overdue.