Aaron turned to look at the car. It was not the investigating officer, but the people who’d visited yesterday. Aaron watched them get out of the car and start walking towards the crosses. The old man saw Aaron and hurried back to his car. He got something out of the car and brought it over to Aaron. It was a manila folder.

“You know man that died over there?” he said pointing to where Aaron’s dad’s body had laid.

Aaron nodded.

“Please take. It is writing my son had in his bedroom. I cannot read. Please you read.” He looked behind Aaron. “Please hide. Police I do not trust.”

Aaron turned to see a car coming towards them. He wondered how the man knew the unmarked car belonged to a police officer. Aaron nodded to the man, realising the man’s distrust of the police was probably a cultural thing. Aaron placed the folder on the floor and tucked it up under the seat. He closed the door and watched the man walk down to his wife. Aaron looked over to the unmarked police car.

It was parked in a shady spot, and the officer was heading towards Aaron. He was dressed more casually today, in jeans and a red and blue polo top.

“Hello, Aaron.”

“Hello, Officer Olsen.”

They shook hands, and the officer once again offered his condolences. They walked over to the scene of the incident. “This is where your father’s body was found.” He turned towards the building. “You can see a couple of CCTV cameras on the roof of the building.”

Aaron nodded.

“We’ve reviewed the footage of the relevant camera and, I’m sorry to say, it hasn’t helped us. Your dad’s incident happened right on the edge of the camera range. It was like your father fell into the camera range, so we could not ascertain what caused the fall.”

“I assume there were no witnesses?”

“None have come forward. Do you have any idea what your father was doing here? Our background checks indicate he wouldn’t normally visit this business park. We also checked his phone and there weren’t any calls regarding meetings or anything.”

“I agree. It’s not the type of place I would expect to see my dad, unless he had some business with whatever goes on in that building.”

“That’s a Department of Urban Movement research facility. We have checked with them, and they have no record of any dealings with your father.”

Aaron looked over at the building and noticed a sign outside the main entrance. He might take a closer look at that later.

“I noticed you were talking to one of the parents who lost their sons?”

“I was. I met them the other day.”

“You are aware there was a fire incident a couple of days after your father’s accident? They believe the fire wasn’t an accident. But they’re unable to substantiate their claims—they have given us no evidence to why they think it was not an accident. We’re going to wait for the Fire Investigation Unit’s report and then take it from there. Can you see any connection between your father’s death and the fire?”

Aaron shook his head. “Not really. Is it just a coincidence? I have no idea.”

“The autopsy report indicates your father had a finger missing yet your mother indicates that wasn’t so. We’ve double-checked with the coroner and that’s definitely the case. Are you able to confirm this?”

“Well, a missing finger would be obvious if you have been married to someone for close to thirty years. And it’s something I would have noticed growing up in the same household.”

“Yes, I agree. Sorry, but I do need to ask these things. You mentioned when we met the other day that you’re in the army. Where are you based?”

“Townsville.”

A car started up, and the two men turned to see the grieving parents slowly drive off.

“Give me the best number to contact you on and I’ll let you know if something crops up. At this stage though, the fire could just be a coincidence and maybe we are just looking at a tragic accident but my job is to confirm that. Here’s my card if you need to contact me.”

Aaron took the card. “I understand, and thank you for meeting with me, Officer Olsen.”

Aaron stood next to his mum’s car and watched him drive off. He appreciated what they did. He opened the door and reached under the seat and grabbed the folder. Opening it, he found a piece of paper and a printed picture. The picture looked like a shot from a black–and-white zombie movie. He put the picture to one side to look at later, and started reading the notes in the hope they would make things clearer.

We have seen evil things. Things not of this world. Yet we continue to progress this technology.

Who was writing this? What were they talking about?

Animals come back deformed. But we think we have fixed the technology so this no longer happens. Yet things appear that frighten us. We hear voices. We tell owner these things but they laugh at us. There is a man that comes with owner, he wears blue uniform with star on shirt pocket, he seems good man but we don’t trust him. We have told him these things. He just tells us to fix things. We have, we no longer see the evil things. They no longer come through the walls.

Aaron looked at the picture again. It was a picture printed in greyscale. He wasn’t sure what it showed—something coming through a wall: bony arms, bony legs, dirty torn clothing. What was it? There were some more notes at the bottom of the page. 

Project signed off today. Technology being moved somewhere. We are glad this project now over. We now look for other work. We no longer want to work here.

Aaron closed the folder.

Thud! A small branch fell on the hood of the car. Aaron jumped, his heart racing. He stared at the branch. A dead branch: no leaves, just twigs. Like the skinny things in the photo. How could something come through a wall?

A crow squawking got his attention. He turned and looked over towards the front entrance of the building. The crow’s beak nudged the flowers around the cross—a matte-black crow and flowers, all symbols of death. He wondered about the relationship between the cross and heaven. It seemed everyone was going to heaven, except, of course, for the murderers and the like. He thought of Dad in heaven and the day when they would see each other again. As long as he didn’t murder someone between now and then.

Aaron got out of the car and walked over to the front entrance of the building, to the crosses and flowers which sat under the entry sign. There were pictures of the boys there. They looked so young.

He wrote down the contact details from the building’s entrance sign, and had a good look at the building and its surrounds—a secure building with a high perimeter fence. There was a track along the outside of the fence and through some bush. It looked as though it was formed by human traffic, to help people get somewhere. Curiosity got the best of him and he followed the track into the bush.

The track made its way through an army of small gum trees and melaleuca bushes, with lots of weeds as undergrowth. Shade pockets gave off a damp smell with insects zigzagging all over the place as Aaron invaded their domain. Further into the track Aaron picked up a different smell, a cheesy smell. There was an area in the weeds that looked flattened. He walked over and found the decaying body of a cat, with only blotches of fur remaining. He stared at the decaying body, something once living and breathing. For some strange reason, he wondered where it had gone. Did a spirit depart from this animal? Where are these thoughts coming from? The grieving process? He returned to the track and further on found another decaying body. This one was bigger, maybe a dog.

Aaron kept walking. Coming out of the bush, he ended up in another commercial block with a few buildings and a shop where you could buy food. So, hungry humans had formed the track. Heading back, he noticed another skeleton. Moving a branch to get a closer look, he pricked his little finger. With his finger in his mouth, he looked down at a large dog, which was well into the decaying process. Why so many dead animals? Somebody didn’t like pets. There must be many saddened pet owners close by.

He thought about the notes. Was there a connection? Maybe these animals had been ‘tested’. Should he go back in there to examine the bodies for deformities as mentioned in the notes? He decided against that. He looked at his little finger: the blood flow had stopped and dried up. Then he remembered his dad’s hand. He looked over at the building. Was there a connection between whatever was going on in there and his dad’s death?

Aaron walked back to the car, trying to decide whether or not to call Officer Olsen. Would it be of any benefit? He decided to investigate the matter further, then provide the police with solid information that would bring this to a speedy close. Anyway, that was the theory.

The perimeter fence had strategically-placed signs advising monitoring of the property twenty-four hours a day. The signs provided a contact number. Aaron looked up at a security camera. It was pointed straight at him.

<°)))><

The cameras on the building were motion-activated, and the man’s movements were being recorded. Lucas watched, alerted by a text message triggered by the sensors.

He played the video back and watched as the man had bent over and looked at things on the ground. He made a silent bet with himself that the bodies of the animals they’d discarded had not been buried. He looked around for something to throw. Nothing. Calm down, Lucas, calm down. He knew he should have checked. People are incompetent. Who can you trust?

This man looked like a detective. So he was investigating, and Lucas decided he wasn’t going to find anything. Lucas took a long draw on his joint and powered down his tablet computer. He stood up, stretched back his arms. The little voice in his head told him everything was going to be fine.

<°)))><

A large white cross stood on top of the main auditorium building. The cross could be seen from a distance, advertising the love of God and attracting the lost. The funeral service was being held in the smaller auditorium which still seated a large number of people. Patrick Fitzpatrick came to church here.

The national flag lay draped over the coffin with an Australian Army slouch hat resting on the flag. A cushion displayed Patrick’s medals, symbols of courage and national pride.