Dexter couldn't blame curiosity. It had gotten him into many situations that he might not have seen otherwise, and most of them not bad. Or, not bad for him. Usually bad for whomever he became curious about. It led to recon, which more often than not took him to a kill room.
"I looked at them when I came back." He nodded. "I just got a bullet to the head. As did the woman that I was with. Those and the ones that were after me I had to analyze through pictures and what the replacement blood spatter person wrote down."
Dexter glanced at the file, looking for where the name and signature would be, then pointed it out. "I can't say if that person is still here, McCall, I actually just got back myself. But the work they did was clean. Not as good as mine, but my standards are very high.
"The only really weird thing that I saw was that there didn't seem to be a pattern. Nothing to say that it was just one person, though everybody kept insisting that it was, because all the people that died were the ones who were brought here, and not the ones born here. Where I'm from, that's not enough to pin it on one person."
He smiled a little back, knowing there was no joke. "I was also part of the zombies. I was one. Then I was a ghost. There are no laws, no, though I'm pretty sure there should be something. After what everyone went through, that shouldn't happen again."