Nero
Location: Outside Nero’s Home, Chicago, IL Skills:
My lips twitch into a smirk as I climb into the front seat of the SUV, purposely sticking my butt out a little as I do so in response to his comment. I’m surprised to see Cassiopeia in the back seat. I gave her a little wave.
”Hello again. This is the best I could find.” I say as I offer her the rolled up map.
”It’s of the entire county, but it’s also from 1945.” With a shrug, I leave it at that. After handing the map off, I turn around to sit criss-cross in my seat.
Nic Wu
Location: University of Chicago Medical Center, Chicago, IL
Skills:
I had been able to sneak into the hospital without anyone recognizing me earlier that day and printed out a list of the patients who shared the same wounds as my mother along with their files. Trying to stay low key, I took the files to the park that was near the hospital to review them. Sitting on the bench for most of the day, I wrote down observations and key details that stood out to me both in a notebook and on the printed papers. I was surprised by some of the smaller details I found, but the most alarming fact I found was about my own mother; out of the five victims that arrived at our hospital, only my mom had made it past triage before dying. I make a mental note to reach out to my friends at some of the other trauma centers around. There are some owed favors I want to cash in on, namely I need to know how many victims there are. Using my phone, I send my requests to each of the level one trauma centers in the area.
That list included Northwestern Memorial Hospital, Mt. Sinai Hospital, Advocate Illinois Masonic Medical, but if I include level one pediatrics, there’s also Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children's Hospital of Chicago and John H. Stroger Jr. Hospital of Cook County. The only center I didn’t need was my own; Chicago Medicine Center. I only ask for the patient files to be emailed to me if the friend is comfortable in toeing the HIPAA line. Surprisingly, all of them send every document they can. I don’t know if it’s out of pity for my situation or my friendship, but I’m grateful.
I’m losing light as the sun sets, but I’ve gotten a pretty good idea of every ‘animal attack’ that’s happened over the last ten months. My hands shake as I recheck my math to make sure I have this correct.
“Holy fuck.” I mumble under my breath. It had started off slow with only one or two attacks each month, but in the last three weeks there had been an incident
each week. And these incidents were not just one victim, if I’m reading the reports correctly and the tweets I find aren’t complete bullshit, entire households were affected. And yet,
there wasn’t a single news report or article on this. Against my better judgement, I browse Reddit forums to see if there’s anything else I can find.
The most frequently repeated post is that there’s no hard evidence left. For some of these victims, there is no family to claim the body so they end up being cremated. My mother’s body is finally going to be released to me tomorrow, but it’s still lying in the morgue at my hospital. Stuffing all my research into my backpack, I head back towards the University of Chicago Medical Center.