Chapter 6
ZIP FURR
Ninety-seven percent of the time, Zip Furr wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing. What his hands were supposed to be doing. What posture he was supposed to be holding himself in. What his expression he should be adopting. What tone of voice he should be using. How much eye contact he should be making.
It was like everyone was communicating in a language he only got every fourth word of. Enough where he could get bits and pieces, but not enough to assemble the whole puzzle.
He could glean more pieces of the puzzle from the other people talking, but it was still like trying to read another language he only knew a handful of words of.
The remaining three percent —the three percent where Zip actually did have some idea of what he should be doing— occurred only back at the SFPU's camp. Where it was, nearly always, just him and the rest of the group. A safe haven, of sorts.
There he didn't have to try in the same way he did with others. It didn't drain him in the same way. They might not always understand him exactly, but they didn't expect him to communicate in their way either. For Zip, their way of communicating was simply a language he could hardly speak. It just didn't make sense.
He could mask to some extent, come across as neurotypical as best as he could, but it always cost him a month's worth of energy for just a day's worth of masking and always resulted in one thing and one thing only: a meltdown. An explosive reaction he had no control over. A terrifying occurrence he couldn't stop. A draining experience he never wanted but couldn't hold back no matter what he did.
xxxx
Zip felt that way now. He had no clue what he should be doing. Absolutely no clue.
Kristin stood in front of him, some mix of emotions that Zip thought looked like sadness and anger swirling across his face. "We've got work to do," he said, almost spitting the words, though his voice cracked and tears rolled down his cheeks. It was only another few moments before he broke down again.
Zip reached out a hand to touch Kristin, but then yanked it back to his chest. He knew hugging was a common thing to do in situations like this. A comforting gesture. He also knew words could be comforting, but he wasn't sure what he could say that would have any sort of effect. We'll find who did this was a true statement —they would. They wouldn't stop until they did— but it wouldn't bring back Ashley. Nothing could.
"Are you doing alright?" Zip flinched when he realized Ren was right next to him. He hadn't heard them move. He glanced up, fingernails scratching on his arms. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. His voice wouldn't work. He managed a weak shrug in reply.
Zip pointed at Ren. A conversation went both ways, a lesson he'd been taught many, many times. "Me?" they said. "I... I don't really know. I'm not sure I can describe whatever it is that I'm feeling yet."
Zip nodded. He felt the same way.
Charlie tugged on Kristin's wrist. "Do you want to sit down? I can find a chair for you."
"Don't-. Don't touch me." His lip curled and his eyes flashed.
"Ok, I'm sorry." Charlie let his hand go.
Kristin turned back toward Ashley, and a silence fell over the room.
Zip tapped each of his fingers against his leg in a steady rhythm. He focused on the pattern and hoped it would ease some of the tension thrumming through his muscles, stringing him up and making his heart pound in his chest.
When he snapped out of the trance he'd been in, he crept around the back of the room, making his way to the other side of where Ashley lay. He stopped two feet or so back and just stared. Hid mind simultaneously raced and froze in static, careening at a million miles an hour yet also inching at next to zero. A million thoughts he could easily make sense of, yet also half-formed bits he couldn't piece together into anything even remotely logical.
Zip's arms moved and crossed in front of his chest, squeezing as his fingernails picked at his elbows.
He'd seen plenty of dead animals in the Silverlight Forest and had run over a squirrel once, resulting in a meltdown and a panicked phone call to Kristin. His heart always broke, especially when they'd found snares and traps too late, for they'd already claimed a life. But he'd never seen a dead human before, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Somehow it was the same, yet also different.
The biological part of death made sense to him: no heartbeat, no movement.
But the other part, the psychological as opposed to physiological, made less sense. Ashley was gone, now what?
Perhaps it was just the not knowing part of it all. Days in the SFPU were unpredictable, but they always held some form of rhythm and structure. None of them knew when the next person would try to hunt down animals in the forest and set traps and snares, but the part of what came next was always the same: track them down and arrest them. The camp was nearly always the same. Charlie might go through cabinets and rearrange when the cleaning bug struck her and one of the shipments of supplies they'd received from the Waverwell government resulted in an entire remodeling of the garage by the house, the one that functioned like a mini warehouse.
That was with the six of them, and each had their jobs. Ferris did the paperwork. Charlie kept track of the species and their populations. Ren trained the dogs. Kristin was their doctor. Ashley kept everything up and running around camp. And Zip programmed the computers and kept the vehicles functioning. Everyone had their jobs. They all tracked down the hunters, but everyone had their job that they did.
But Ashley was killed. He couldn't come back. So what would happen then?
Now what?
Another part of Zip's brain was wondering who was in front of him if Ashley was gone. The body looked like Ashley. Exactly like him. Yet Ashley was gone. So who was here?
xxxx
A soft knock on the door snapped Zip from his thoughts, and he jumped. Ren flinched, body tensing as they became far more alert. Someone walked through the door, who he didn't recognize. They wore a sympathetic smile on their face.
As they took a few slow steps forward, Zip felt the mask slipping back into place. A neutral expression replaced whatever one he'd been wearing before, and he put his hands in his pockets to try to get his shoulders to relax. He looked the person as close to the eyes as he could manage. He knew the mask wouldn't be very successful and he knew it was to be expected to be acting different since a friend had just died. But he also knew that the mask was partially subconscious. A habit he didn't always think about.
"Hello. My name is Larson Hotch. I use he, him, and his pronouns. I'm very sorry for your loss." Larson was a fairly short man, whose curly hair was sprinkled with a dusting of grey. His uniform was spotless, no wrinkles in sight. His name tag hung straight, perfectly lined up with the stitching on his breast pocket.
"What do you want?" Zip glanced over at Kristin. He spoke through his teeth and his eyes were red as tears streamed down his cheeks. He stared at his brother, back to Larson and knuckles white as he gripped the side of the tray.
"I was hoping to ask each of you a few questions. It's just a couple, and then I'll go. Is that alright?"
"What?" Kristin whirled around. "What? Do you think I did it? That I killed my brother? Why would I do that? We're family. Family. It was just the two of us. And when we joined the SFPU, it was still us. Us, with four friends. I would never. Never. Do that. Kill my brother. No matter what he did, I'd never do that." His chest heaved and shook with sobbing breaths.
"I do not believe that you killed your brother, Kristin. I was hoping that you would be able to tell me what was going on in the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit in the past week or so. We're building a timeline for Ashley to figure out what was going on before his death."
"His murder."
"His murder." Larson nodded.
Kristin exhaled through his teeth. He tipped his head back and ran his hands over his face.
Ferris stepped forward after a glance at Kristin. "I can answer your questions. Perhaps we could do so outside?"
"Of course." Ferris followed Larson out of the room.
Kristin sank to the ground. He drew his knees to his chest and buried his head in his crossed arms. "What are we going to do?" His voice was slightly muffled.
"I... we're gonna to help the Moonfall Precinct. We're gonna to catch the monster that murdered Ashley. Get justice for him." Charlie shrugged. The usual easygoing casualness she wore was long gone, replaced by a confused fear Zip didn't recognize on her.
"It doesn't feel real."
"It doesn't." Charlie chewed on a fingernail as she stared at Ashley's body.
They fell into a silence that hung in a smothering sort of way. Not comfortable, yet not choking either, just there, always to be felt and never to be forgotten. A looming figure that clung to every surface in the room. Kristin's sobs broke the silence, though it still remained, and Charlie rubbed his back. Ren sat down next to him and held a few tissues in their hand. While he wanted to move to try to do something to help ease a bit of the pain that was surely gnawing at Kristin's insides, Zip's legs refused to move. His body was stuck in place, held in a trance he could not yet escape.
Ferris opening the door had both Ren and Zip jumping. Charlie looked up, while Kristin barely moved. "Hey, Zip. Could you please come out here?"
Zip stiffened. Did something happen? Am I in trouble? His mind started whirling, spiraling with a million possibilities. He hugged his arms to his middle and his fingers drummed against his sides as he nodded. He started to make his way to the door but when Ferris held up a finger, Zip stopped.
Can you talk, Ferris silently asked, letting the door close on his shoulder so he was taking up most of the space in the doorway and giving a more private conversation between him and Zip. He tapped his fingers against his thumb in a mimed mouth. Zip managed a quick shake of his head.
No.
Do you want to do this? Zip weakly shrugged, gaze falling to the ground.
I guess.
Would you be able to write? Ferris held one hand out flat and the other pretended to scribble across it, a mimed pen on paper.
Maybe.
Would you like to try? After a long pause, Zip nodded in the briefest of movements.
Sure.
If it would be helpful in finding whoever murdered Ashley, he'd somehow muster the energy and manage to communicate despite feeling detached from his body and like he was floating. He had to.
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"Hello, Zip. May I speak with you?" After a minute, Zip nodded.
"Where would you like to talk? We can do so in here, out in the hallway, or in another room. Whatever would be most comfortable for you." It wasn't a yes or no question; it required more than a nod or a shake of his head. Tendrils of panic started to spread through his insides. Zip's eyes found Ferris, and he knew his expression likely held some amount of desperation that Ferris saw.
Want me to explain? Zip's heart was nearly in his throat as he nodded.
Yes.
"Zip is currently nonverbal. He cannot talk right now. He can write down his answers, though, in response to your questions. Do you have a pad of paper and a pen he can borrow?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. I can grab those from my desk. Do you want to talk outside of the room?" Larson waited as Zip processed his words and formulated a response at a snail's pace. Finally, he nodded his head. Relief shattered through him. Larson hardly even blinked at the fact that Zip couldn't speak.
"Ok. Please give me just a moment to go get a pad and paper from my desk. I appreciate you being willing to talk with me. I know this is a very hard time for you right now."
Once Larson had disappeared down a connecting hallway, Ferris took a step toward Zip. "Are you doing alright? You can talk with Larson tomorrow, if you'd like. You-." Zip cut him off by shaking a hand, mimicking a wave. He shook his head and pointed at the ground.
No. Now.
"Ok," Ferris said. "When I was talking with Larson, he asked what was around the camp and if we'd seen anything. I told him that we had camera traps in part of the forest and that you did most of the technology-related stuff, which is why he asked if you would talk with him. I don't know what his exact questions will be, but I'd imagine there will at least be some about the camera traps." Zip took in the information and then nodded.
A few minutes later, Larson returned, carrying a yellow pad of paper and a blue pen with him. "Hello again, Zip. There's an open room just over here, a few doors down from where we are now. It's private. We'd be the only ones in there. Would that work for you?" Zip nodded.
"Great. Right this way, please." Zip trailed after Larson as he led the way to the room.
Inside, it was simple and small. A table pressed up against the wall, four chairs, two tucked under the table and two off to the side. A single light lit up the room. A window on the wall opposite the door gave a view of Silverlight Forest off in the distance. Zip took the chair closer to the window so his back was to it and he faced the door. A small camera sat just above the door, and a red light on it blinked every few seconds. Panic nibbled at Zip's throat and chest, but he took a deep breath. This was for Ashley. He'd answer Larson's questions, and they would help figure out who murdered Ashley. He could do this.
Larson sat down across from him.
Zip scribbled at the top of the pad and paper to make sure the pen worked. It did. Quite well, though not to his surprise; he'd seen that it was likely brand new since it was full of ink.
"First off, thank you for being willing to talk with me. I know this is a very difficult time for you right now. Could you please tell me your name?"
Zip Furr, he wrote. It took him a bit to get the letters down. He turned the pad around so Larson could see.
"Was there anything that stood out as unusual to you in the past few weeks? Related to Ashley Baok or not. Anything that struck you as odd?" Zip paused to think. He tapped the pen against his pinkie.
Not really, he started, then added on. Pyr Iskie escaped. Ashley didn't call us and didn't come back. Those were odd.
"It was odd that Pyr Iskie escaped?" Larson jotted down a few notes on his own pad of paper.
He was in prison for the attempted killings of the Silverlight Pack and for the killings of several of the protected species of Silverlight Forest. We arrested him about a month and a half ago, but he escaped. We just arrested him again this evening. Or yesterday evening if it's now a new day. I don't know what time it is.
Larson read Zip's writing, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the information. "It's about one in the morning right now, so yesterday evening. What about how Ashley didn't call you and return?"
Ashley never misses a call or text. He always responded within a few minutes. Zip reread the words a few times. He crossed out the last S on misses and replaced it with a D. Past tense, not present.
"Did you reach out?"
Kristin did a bunch. Ashley didn't respond.
"What was Ashley doing before he went missing?"
He was on a supply run to Moonfall.
"What was the supply run for?"
Supplies for the camp.
"Can you tell me more about the supply runs?"
Ok. Larson exhaled slowly upon seeing Zip's response.
"Can you please tell me more?" Zip circled ok and held the pad of paper up again. Larson leaned back in his seat. Zip wished he could speak and tell Larson that he'd answer the questions, that the ok was saying that yes, he could tell Larson about the supply runs, that he was willing to do so. Ask away.
Thankfully, Larson seemed to understand.
"Where did you go for the supply runs?"
Moonfall. A few stores. We'd get more food, pick up any parts for repairs in the camp, get any mail that had arrived, and get whatever else we needed. If we went and wanted to stop at a store for something personal we could as well.
"You could get something personal? Like what?"
Books, magazines, snacks, clothes.
"Was it usually just one person who went on the supply runs?"
Yes.
"Was it usually Ashley who went on the supply run?"
We all did. It was usually him though.
"When did you first begin to think something was strange?"
In the morning when he didn't come back.
"What time would he usually have gotten back?"
In the morning. You stayed overnight since driving in Silverlight Forest when it's dark is difficult. He should've been back by the time breakfast was done.
"How did you reach out to Ashley?"
We called and texted him a bunch. Kristin was thinking about creating a Muse account to message Ashley on. I don't know if he did. Ren and I drove around Moonfall a bit after bringing Pyr here but didn't see anything. We returned to the camp when we saw the cars speeding to Silverlight Forest.
Larson studied Zip. The camera continued to flash the red light, recording everything that took place in the room. Zip squirmed and shifted in his seat. He flipped to a new page on the pad.
"Was Ashley acting strange at all recently? Perhaps doing something he hadn't done in the past, changing habits of his."
Not really, Zip wrote, then put a line through it. He went off into the woods a bunch and would sometimes come back from supply runs a few hours later. He always communicated and would let us know but he'd sometimes disappear. He'd done that the day before he was murdered.
"So it was common for Ashley to disappear?"
Not disappear. We knew he was out.
"Do you know where he went?"
If it was on supply runs, likely somewhere in Moonfall since the car he took never left Moonfall. In the forest, somewhere in it.
"Do you know what he was doing on these... excursions?"
No.
"Do you know if someone else would?"
Kristin might.
"How long have you known the other members of the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"
About a year. Kristin and Ashley knew each other their whole lives though.
"How did you decide to join together and form the Silverlight Forest Protection Unit?"
Ferris found Charlie and then Ren. I met Kristin and Ashley and they mentioned the group and then we joined. We each had skills that went well together. Ferris got funding from President Cynthia Corville and we got the necessary permits and such to be able to live on Silverlight Forest, create roads, put up cameras, patrol it, and arrest any offenders. Zip looked over his writing and decided it probably answered Larson's question, though he added on: We took a leap of faith that it would all work out.
"What are the skills you each have?"
Ferris is good with paperwork and organizing things. Charlie is good with identifying species and knows a lot about the forest. Ren is good at training the dogs and working with them. Kristin is good with first aid. Ashley was good at most things and knew a little about a lot. He helped out a lot around camp. I'm good with computers.
Larson jotted down a few notes, sighed, and then flipped through what he wrote. He'd written down nearly everything Zip had said, with scribbled words in the margins that Zip couldn't make out from upside down.
"Why can't you talk right now?" The tone of Larson's voice wasn't... rude. It wasn't curious, either. Instead, it was somewhere in the middle, not why can't you talk just talk already, yet also not I'm just curious why you can't talk it's fine. Zip didn't move to write for what felt like an eternity. His mind raced over what he should write, how he should write it, and what Larson would say in response. While he struggled to put up a convincing mask and hide his autistic traits, he was never very successful at it, much less in a situation like now.
I've shut down. When that happens I often lose my voice.
"Shut down?"
Yes. Instead of exploding in a meltdown, I'll implode and shut down.
"Implode instead of explode." Larson rubbed his chin. He sounded like he was pondering what Zip had written, as opposed to chastising him like Zip had half expected.
Yes.
"You're doing a damn good job of hiding it. Just by looking at you, I'd have said you were just shy or something." That's not the compliment you think it is, Zip wanted to write. Instead, he just shrugged. He didn't have the energy to explain that the translation of what Larson had said was that Zip was doing a good job of hiding the parts of himself society would view as bad. That Zip was convincing with the mask he'd been crafting for his whole life. Larson seemed to register his reluctance to talk further and moved on.
"Ferris tells me you're the person to talk to about the cameras you have in the forest?"
Yes.
"How many do you have?"
25.
"Where are they?"
The left half of the forest. There's one by the Silverlight Pack's den as well, Camera Trap 25.
"The side closer to Corville?"
Yes.
"Are they filming constantly?"
Yes.
"What happens with the footage?"
If the cameras see a person walking by, it alerts us. All of the footage is stored on drives. Anything we want to save we do and the rest is eventually deleted after a while.
"What do you save?"
Anything the cameras alert us on and anything we want to keep an eye on. Where wildlife is moving, common locations for traps and snares.
"How long before footage is deleted?"
About two months. Sometimes longer.
"Have you seen anything unusual along Myway Highway?"
There's only one camera directly on Myway Highway but five others near it. They haven't recorded anything suspicious and haven't alerted us to anything.
"Which camera is directly on Myway Highway?"
Camera Trap 12.
"Which are the five that are near Myway Highway?"
Camera Traps 4, 5, 11, 13, and 23.
"Can you mark them on a map, please?" Larson pulled a printed map of Silverlight Forest from within his pad of paper and pushed it across the table. Zip took it.
He traced the line of Myway Highway with his pen, then the outline of Silverlight Lake, a vaguely heart-shaped body of water slightly higher than the center of the forest. He put a dot where the camp was, followed by a few other landmarks; the Silverlight Pack den, trees they used to navigate by their easily recognizable shape, a monstrous boulder across Myway Highway from Silverlight Lake. From there, he started placing the locations of each of the camera traps, as close as he could to their actual location. He put in Camera Trap 25 first, since it was directly next to the Silverlight Pack den. He then added the remaining camera traps.
Approximate location, Zip wrote on the pad of paper.
"I know. This is just to get a sense of where they are in the forest. Would it be possible to get a copy of the exact locations though?"
Ok.
"Did Camera Trap 11, 19, 20, 22, or 23 alert you at all in the past three days or so?"
Camera Trap 19 and 23 did when Pyr Iskie was in Silverlight Forest. Camera Team 17, too.
"What do the camera traps alert you to?"
People walking by them.
"Do they ever miss an alert or alert you to something else. Say, a deer?"
No.
"Is it possible they could have?"
Unless they were tampered with or the batteries died, no. They do exactly what I tell them to. The cameras are checked daily and the batteries are included in that. If they were tampered with, they would've told us. That's a different alert.
Zip turned the pad of paper around. He didn't like that Larson was questioning his camera traps. He'd coded them and built them. The cameras, and everything he built, worked exactly as he told them to. They would do exactly as he said. Nothing more, nothing less. Frustration rose within him, but he forced it down.
"No one tampered with the cameras?"
Yes, no one tampered with them. The pen carved into the paper as Zip wrote, and he had to exhale slowly to avoid tearing the paper.
"Can we get a copy of all of the footage from all of the cameras for the past month?"
Sure.
"Thank you, Zip. I appreciate your time and willingness to meet with me. I know this is a very tough time for you right now."
Larson held out his hand, and Zip hesitated. He didn't want to shake Larson's hand, yet he also didn't want to say no. It would be rude to do that. His mind raced, zig-zagging back and forth on what to do. Which would require less confrontation, which would require less explaining, which would lead to less discomfort. In the end, he decided to reach out and take Larson's hand, ignoring how his skin crawled.
His fingers flexed by his side as he followed Larson out of the room. He could still feel the ghost of Larson's fingers curling around his hand, still felt those little claws wrapping around and digging into his skin. A shudder ran up his spine, but he didn't react. He swallowed and trailed a few steps behind Larson. Someone passed them by, offering a nod of their head as acknowledgement.
Kristin didn't look up when Zip walked back into the room. He was hunched over the body of his brother. Ren glanced up, offering a brief smile, as did Ferris and Charlie.
"I will give you all some time. This room is yours for as long as you need it. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."
"Thank you," Ferris said. Larson shut the door softly behind him.
At some point during the time Zip was talking with Larson, a few chairs had been brought in. They had been arranged near where Ashley's body lay. Ferris and Charlie each sat in one, while Ren leaned against the back wall, furthest from the door. They had a distant look on their face, and their arms were crossed across their chest as they gazed at Ashley's body.
Charlie pushed an empty chair toward Zip, a silent offer that Zip took. He perched himself on the edge of the chair and wrung his hands together. Panic battered his chest despite his attempts to calm himself.
What would happen now that Ashley was gone? What would the SFPU look like? What would anything look like? Ashley had always known a little about everything, from both picking up things in conversations and the mountain of books he read, often picking up a few every time he went out on a supply run. He was a pillar of the SFPU, able to get along with just about everyone. And he cared deeply. Kristin had been interested in joining the SFPU, but Ashley had been the once to completely convince him they should.
Zip didn't know what the future held for the SFPU. The thought scared him, since he liked the relative regularity of the SFPU, but he knew they couldn't go back. You couldn't resurrect someone from the dead.
But they were a group. Friends and family in one. The SFPU wouldn't go anywhere; they had work to do.