by David Jobe
Somewhere above him and to the left he heard a low hum that reminded him of the lights at the station. That low hum as power coursed through those brain numbing lighting fixtures. He tried not to think of that, or the station, and especially not of Millie. He had gotten off the phone with her to let her know that he planned to have a nice chat with Stephen. See if he could make some sense of all of this. See if the connections Lanton saw were real or just in his imagination. Millie was not pleased. She had been quite vocal about the matter if he was being honest.
“Stop thinking about her.”
Sixty yards. He was beginning to see the dark aura of the man. A dark aura only he could see. He made a point to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
Forty.
“Officer Lanton, stop where you are.” Stephen’s head came up to level a gaze at him. “You thought I wouldn’t recognize you or something? I was there that fateful day that the bulletproof kid got shot.”
Lanton stopped walking toward the man, a weird queasy feeling coming over him. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
Stephen closed his laptop and raised a brow. “Do with what?”
“With the death of Brian Lockhart.”
“Why would I do that?” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
Lanton shook his head. “I don’t know. I am just here to ask you a few questions.”
“Then why is your hand near your gun, officer?”
Lanton looked down and saw that indeed his hand was near his gun. Lanton cursed under his breath. That had not been intentional. In fact, that had been the opposite of what he meant to do. He raised his hands in the air. “I am just here to talk.”
Stephen eyed him for a bit, then seemed to decide on something. He looked around. Everyone had their focus on the two of them. When Stephen’s gaze fell on them though, they all returned to looking at their cups. “Tell me why you are really here.”
Again, that queasy feeling swept over him, this time stronger than the last. “I’m here to arrest you.”
Stephen clapped. “See, that’s what I like. Straight answers. And what pray tell are you planning to arrest me for? I haven’t killed anyone, so it can’t be murder.”
“Conspiracy to commit murder. Criminal mischief. Coercion.”
Stephen whistled through his teeth. “That’s an interesting list. What evidence do you have that I did any of this?”
“My gut.”
“Your gut won’t hold up in court. Why are you arresting me without any real evidence?” He crossed his arms again.
Lanton just stared at the man.
“Oh right. Tell me why you are arresting me without any evidence.”
Lanton swallowed, feeling his guts churn. “Because you leave a pile of corpses in your wake.”
Stephen laughed at this. He looked around again. “Let’s say this is true. Why put all these people in danger?” The two women in exercise gear closest to him started to get up. “You. Sit down. You too.”
Both sat down as a glossy look came over their eyes.
Stephen turned to face Lanton. “Tell me. Why risk it?”
Lanton felt dizzy. “Because you are a monster.”
Stephen frowned. He rose from his seat and began packing away his laptop. “A monster am I? Let me show you how much of a monster I truly aim. Take out your pistol you were so eager to use. Do not point it at me.”
The dizziness intensified, but there was nothing he could do about it. He reached down and upholstered his weapon.
Stephen nodded. “Good. Now put it in your mouth, point it at your brain and pull the trigger.”
About the Author
David Jobe is an author whose story "Dead of Night" was recently featured in the Anthology "Gifts of the Magi". David has a Bachelor’s Degree in Criminal Justice. He is currently finishing his Masters in Psychology and plans to pursue a doctorate in that field
This is the second novella in the Broken Ones series.