April Reigns (April Almighty Book 4)

by Tim Miller

  Chapter 4

  April jumped out of the passenger’s side, Isis stayed in the car looking confused. There was no way April was going to just sit in that truck helpless and talk to the clown. Grant tried to sound cordial, but she could hear the fear in his voice.

  “You’re a long way from home pal,” Grant said.

  “The world is my home! Why limit myself to one locale. So much to see. Oh hey. You’re Grant Storm!” The clown said.

  “What?”

  “Grant Storm! The Jericho Ranger! How is Doctor O’Quinn? He still hanging in there?”

  Grant looked troubled as he cast a glance back at April.

  “You know he’s not. He’s been in a coma ever since you stabbed him in the eye with his own pen.”

  “Well yes. That was unfortunate. He was going to lobotomize me, such a cruel procedure and we didn’t even know if it would work on my kind. So, I did one on him. With his pen. Didn’t go so well I’m afraid.”

  “I take it you did all this?” Grant asked.

  “Why yes. I didn’t start it, mind you. A couple of buffoons from that funhouse were on the loose. Talk about clowning around. No, no, I disposed of them rather quickly and had my own fun. You should take some photos. I bet one of these girls has an Instagram account. Put the pictures on there for the world to see! Hashtag: Mad Maxwell’s Masterpiece! It’s got quite the ring to it, don’t you think?”

  The more April listened the more her stomach tightened. It was clear rather quickly he was not one of the clowns like before. Those guys were just manically homicidal. Mad Maxwell was too, but he was calm, collected, and articulate. She shuddered as he looked over to her for the first time.

  “Well, well, what have we here?” Mad Maxwell said looking April up and down. “Ranger Grant, I had no idea you traveled with such lovely company.” He removed his top hat and held it in front of his face. A mirror popped out of the top of the hat. He took a moment looking at himself, adjusting his hair and examining his bright white teeth before snapping the mirror shut.

  “And who might you be?” He asked.

  “April,” she said.

  “Well, hello April. I must say, in all my years I have never seen a creature quite so beautiful. Perhaps you’d like to accompany me on an adventure?”

  She looked back at the truck and back at Maxwell.

  “Uh, no. That’s ok.”

  “You sure? Lots of fun to be had! You’re covered in blood, plus I can smell death all over you. Oh yeah.” He held his head up, sniffing the air while rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. “You’ve spilled lots of blood my dear. You’d be fun to travel with.”

  “That’s quite all right,” April said. She hoped he didn’t try anything with her. That might be the one thing to finally break her. Everything about this clown terrified her. Just his presences, his crooked smile, his whole demeanor was horrifying. “I think I’ll just hang with these guys.”

  “Well fine,” he put his hat back on. “Suit yourself. You’d probably slow me down anyway. Ok Ranger Grant,” he said as he walked around the front of the truck. “As much as I’d love to face off with you all, today’s activities has me spent. Perhaps another time though. I must be on my way.” He turned and walked away from the truck and onto a side street, disappearing in between two buildings.

  April ran down the street and looked. He was gone.

  “What the fuck? He’s gone!” She said.

  “Get back in the truck kid,” Grant said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What about that clown! He’s fucking psychotic.”

  “He’s worse than that, which is why we need to leave. He gave us a warning. We don’t go, he’ll come back and won’t be so pleasant.”

  She got into the truck as Grant put it in gear and stomped on the gas. What terrified April the most was how rattled Grant obviously was. So far he’s always been so cold and calculating. He was a stuttering idiot in front of Mad Maxwell. Since when was this asshole afraid of anything? He spent his life rounding up people like her.

  “What do you mean a warning?” Isis asked.

  “He apparently sees us as worthy adversaries and we were caught off guard. The advantage was all his. He could have taken us apart if he wanted. Instead he gave us a chance to regroup and fight him later on more equal terms.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The stories I’ve heard. Everything is a game to him, except he usually wins. It’s always been urban legend, but I’m a believer now.”

  They drove out of Happytown and soon were back on the freeway.

  “Where we headed?”

  “Dallas. Not going to Jericho though. If I show up empty handed, they’ll kill me for sure. We need to figure out what to do with Maxwell. No way am I going to let him roam the countryside.”

  “Can we kill him? The other clowns were hard enough. You had to like blow their heads up or something.”

  “Oh I’m sure he can be killed. He knows that though, so good luck getting close enough.”

  “So what the fuck do we do?” Isis asked.

  “I have a few ideas. I know someone who might be able to help. He’s the one who told me about Mad Maxwell years ago. He told me about him like he was some legend, but now I’m thinking he knows more than he was letting on.”

  They drove in silence the rest of the way. As they got further away from Happytown and closer to Dallas, April couldn’t help but wondering if the end wasn’t near for her somehow. She had already survived the impossible. Many times she felt as if she were living on borrowed time. She feared her luck was about to run out.

  Chapter 5

  Dallas, Texas

  Terrance Branch walked out behind the convenience store to empty the trash. Thankfully, he could go home in an hour. While he never pictured being a convenience store clerk as his ideal job, he was just happy to have work. The economy had been shit the past several years. They’d said it was in recovery, which could be true. That is unless you’re a thirty year old black man with a felony conviction.

  Mind you, Terrance wasn’t a criminal. His felony came after he was at friend’s house years ago for a barbecue. Someone called the police due to loud noise. The cops show up and start tossing the place for no real reason and find a vial of cocaine. So of course, you got a house of black people hanging out and one of them had cocaine so it was obviously a crack house.

  Terrance had been charged with a count of dealing. He pled down to possession even though he never used cocaine a day in his life and served two years in prison. He lost his music scholarship at Southern Methodist University in the process. After prison he couldn’t afford college and could no longer get financial aid with a drug conviction on his record. There also wasn’t a lot of demand for trombone players, so he took the job at the convenience store.

  Time flies whether you’re having fun or not, and Terrance had been at the store for almost five years now. He tried not to think of his past, but it snuck back into his mind from time to time, usually when he least wanted it to, only to cause more pain. As he tossed the garbage bags into the dumpster, someone laughed from behind him. The laugh startled him, causing him to jump as he spun around.

  “What in the fuck?” Terrance said as he looked at the bizarre creature standing before him. The guy was dressed as a clown, wearing a yellow suit and top hat with orange stripes all around. He was an ugly ass clown too. Behind him a stretch limo was parked. The clown leaned on the limo twirling his cane.

  “How’s it going Terrance?” The clown asked.

  “Who the hell are you?” Terrance said, trying not to look at the guy’s hideous smile and fucked up nose.

  “They call me Mad Maxwell, for a variety of reasons as you can see.”

  “I’d say so. You might want to watch it in this part of town. Lots of ways to get your ass kicked dressed like that.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that. I can handle myself though. Nevertheless, enough about me. I want to talk about you.”

  �
��About me what?”

  “Oh come on Terrance. You were once a musical prodigy. You can pick up any instrument and master it in seconds, though you have a special love for the trombone. I have no idea why. That’s the most obnoxious instrument.”

  It didn’t sit well that this clown knew so much about him.

  “Ok, now this shit isn’t cute anymore. Who the fuck are you? Who sent you?”

  “Calm down Terrance. I’m your friend! I’m here to help. I’m here to say, make you an offer you can’t refuse.” He walked to Terrance and opened his jacket. Terrance took a step back, not sure what to expect, but Mad Maxewell handed him a wad of one hundred dollar bills.

  “Here, a gift. Call it a token of good faith.”

  Terrance looked it over. He couldn’t remember a time seeing that much cash.

  “Good faith in what?”

  “In you, my friend! I’m investing in you. You sir, are the future. I want you to come and work for me.”

  “Work for you? You want me to join the fuckin’ circus?”

  “Terrance. You’re being short sighted. I know what they did to you. Shafting you into prison. Ruining your life. You could be traveling the country as a well-respected jazz musician. Instead, you’re a night clerk at this shit hole; or you can come with me and leave this dump behind. You can be somebody!”

  “Be who?”

  “I need people. Smart, reliable, trustworthy people to have my back and I will have yours.”

  Terrance was intrigued. He didn’t like nor trust this clown, he figured it was some act to conceal his identity or some weird gimmick. Maybe he thought he was The Joker from Batman or something. Still, there had to be at least ten thousand dollars in that wad of bills, it was nothing to scoff at. Society had already thrown him away. He had been barely old enough to legally drink when they locked him up for no reason and determined his life wasn’t worth an opportunity.

  This could be an opportunity. At least until he saved up some money. Maybe he could go back to school or open his own business. Say what you want about money, but money made you. Money opens doors and keeps them open. You have the money, you have all the opportunity in the world.

  “Ok, so what would I be doing?” Terrance asked.

  “You’ll be my right hand man. Whatever I need, you’ll be right there. You’ll also be in charge of recruiting, collections, and security. You’re a big guy, someone has to keep me from getting my ass kicked as you put it.”

  “And the pay?”

  “Never stops. Trust me. There isn’t a salary in this for you. I will just throw money at you.” Mad Maxwell removed his top hat, reached inside and flung a wad of cash into the air as he exploded in laughter. “Hahaha! See that? It’s like I’m made of money!”

  Terrance wasn’t sure he should turn and run, but the money. All that money. Didn’t sound too bad and if things got weird, no doubt he could beat this crazy clown’s ass, take his money and run.

  “Ok. I’ll give it a try. But if you try and fuck with me, I will kill you,” Terrance warned.

  “By all means!” Mad Maxwell said holding up his hands and cowering away. He then stood and walked toward the limo, opening the door. “So glad to have you aboard!”

  Against his gut instinct, Terrance climbed into the limo across from the clown. As they drove away, Mad Maxwell was the only one smiling. Terrance hoped he wouldn’t have to look at that face for too long before he was on his own.

  Chapter 6

  April sat in the hotel room watching TV while Isis and Grant fooled around on his laptop.

  “April, you should be part of this,” Isis said. They’d been “planning” for the last two hours. April thought it was just a big waste of time. They weren’t going to find anything about Mad Maxwell on Google. Grant said he had access to Jericho’s database, but he hadn’t turned up anything they didn’t already know. She felt a better use of time would have been for them to stockpile some weapons and then go after this asshole.

  “Be a part of what? Wasting time? Who knows where that psycho is by now, or how many he’s killed,” April said. “We should be getting weapons. Get armed to the fucking teeth and go after him.”

  “Knowledge is our best weapon in this case, kid,” Grant said. April rolled her eyes at the cliché.

  “So is a double barrel shotgun. My powers don’t work against those fucking things.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. They’re not human.”

  As April flipped through the channels she came to a breaking news report. There had been a mass shooting at a Dallas nursing home. The anchorman looked calm as he read the breaking report

  “Today police are looking for a group of men dressed as clowns who walked into a Dallas nursing home this afternoon and opened fire.”

  “You guys!” April yelled. “Look at this shit!”

  Grant and Isis looked up from the laptop and walked around to the TV.

  The anchorman continued.

  “According to witnesses a blue van pulled up shortly after noon when the group of men got out. There are believed to be at least five of them, maybe more. They were each carrying military assault rifles. The facility housed just over two hundred residents, all of which have been confirmed dead. There were approximately one hundred fifty staff on hand, including support and administrative staff. Forty-seven of them have been confirmed dead with another sixty injured. A few made it out alive. Tamara Jenkins is one of the survivors.”

  The camera cut to a tall black girl wearing scrubs and wiping tears from her face.

  “I been a nurse here for five years. I never saw nothing like this,” Tamara said to the camera. “These dudes just came busting in the door. They had on clown make up, goofy cloths and even the big shoes. At first people thought they were there for a party or something. Maybe they just had water guns, but once they started shooting I ran.” She stopped to wipe a tear from her face. “I ran out a fire exit and never looked back. Now everyone is dead. I just left them all there, and now they’re dead.” She broke down as they cut back to the anchorman.

  “Each of the gunman got away in the same van. Police are actively searching for them. If you have any information please…” April turned off the TV and looked at Grant and Isis.

  “What the fuck?” She said. “You think it was him?”

  “How would he find five more clowns though? Is there another fun house near here?” Isis asked.

  “No funhouses in Dallas. No other ones in Texas that I’m aware of. Either way, guns aren’t really clowns’ M.O.”

  “Maybe he turned those guys into clowns like my friend’s boyfriend.”

  “Not enough time, plus there is a certain machine that does it inside each funhouse. Mad Maxwell doesn’t have access to one. I really don’t know.”

  “Just seems an odd coincidence if it isn’t him,” April said.

  “That it does. That it does for sure.” Grant looked out the window for a moment before turning back to April. “Maybe we should get some extra weapons though. Just in case.”

  April stood up as Isis looked around.

  “It’s about time. You got a hook up around here, Grant?”

  “I know a few gun dealers who owe me some favors. I’ll be hitting them up.”

  “Good.”

  “I want a sawed off shotgun,” Isis said. “And a machete.”

  “Put it on your Christmas list,” April chided. “You’ll need more than a shotgun against these guys anyway. How many do you think there are now?”

  “You know as much as I do,” Grant said. “But let’s get going before they decide to blow up a school or something.”

  They filed out of the hotel and into Grant’s truck. As they headed into the city, April began running through her mind what exactly they were up against. Despite Grant’s doubts, she was positive Mad Maxwell was behind the shooting. Who else would shoot up a nursing home just for shits and giggles? Why would Mad Maxwell want to do it? Though one thing she learned, those clowns don’t need a
reason to do anything as long as it is completely fucked up and ruthless. She could be every bit as ruthless though, as Mad Maxwell was about to find out.

  Chapter 7

  “Excellent!” Mad Maxwell called out. “I didn’t think you guys could pull it off. Keep impressing me and you may have what it takes yet.”

  His band of clowns stood around looking at him with their painted smiles. They were in an abandoned warehouse Mad Maxwell had chosen for a temporary headquarters. It was old and far enough out of the way, they’d be safe there. Their vehicle could easily be hidden there, so no worries about police helicopters spotting them from above. He’d sent them into the nursing home as a test, a test in which they passed. Terrance stood to Mad Maxwell’s right, not wearing clown makeup and he hadn’t gone along on the raid.

  “So you going to make us real clowns now? Like you?” one of them asked.

  “In time,” Mad Maxwell said. “In time. One must not rush to these things. Plus, we have more recruiting to do.”

  He had been impressed with Terrance’s recruiting efforts so far. Thought it is amazing what a handful of cash will do for recruitment. Terrance had a knack for spotting the desperate and downtrodden and talking them into anything. Not just any poor person would go walk into a nursing home and blow everyone away. It took a certain criminal element, one for which Terrance had a good nose.

  “So what now then?” another clown asked.

  “What now? Time to up the ante. Nursing homes are easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel, except these were old and have walkers. No, no. To be best prepared for the big mission you need be better prepared. While you were out today, Terrance gathered a new gang of recruits. You’ll need them on the next mission.”

  “What mission is that?” they asked.

  “You’re going to shoot up the Dallas police department.”

  Their faces immediately turned to frowns, despite the clown smiles painted on their faces.