She avoided Scott's stare, occasionally glancing at him. His expression said that he wasn't interested in these memories and he knew what he'd do if he was loose and had a weapon.
“But we've both been told that this Lawrence Lowell problem is causing difficulties.
“Maybe you're supposed to go on to do something and you won't be able to if your spirit gets stolen back by Lawrence Lowell permanently.”
“All I know for sure is that I want my body back and if that's the way it's intended to be too, then great.”
Lynn nodded in agreement.
Frank looked at Scott lying there looking miserable, his pants wet with the urine he could no longer hold. Frank dismissed the staff that was around the table to the other side of the room and spoke to Lynn in a lowered voice.
“Lynn, does what you learned mean that it's all planned ahead?”
“I got the impression it was just certain major events that are scheduled in advance. Maybe that's all that's allowed by whatever powers control such things. The rest is random and up to us. Maybe that's what's causing the problem. The revival of Lawrence Lowell is possibly preventing some major scheduled event from taking place.”
Frank bit on his fingernail, thought, then said, “If it was planned in advance, I mean the murder, then Scott is no more guilty of anything than we are. Is that possible?”
“I don't know but I know that if he were loose he'd try to kill us too. I'm sure of that and we have to act accordingly as if this part of it is random and try to prevent any harm coming to us.”
Frank spoke louder now so that the staff would hear. “We've got to get these people to the State Police after this is over. We'll have to pile into the cars, one of us in each with a weapon on them and Hill will have to talk his way past the police or I'll see to it that this will be his last day on Earth.”
Lynn's image registered on the two retinas of Lawrence Lowell's eyes and the image came together in Lawrence Lowell's brain but it was Frank Tilton's spirit that was seeing her. “What about us? Have we been together before...in this relationship?”
Lynn thought. She knew now for sure, what she could only have speculated about from the dreams she'd been having. She didn't know how to tell Frank without being presumptive or preemptive about their current relationship so she stalled. “What relationship is this Frank?” She said the question with sincerity, not sarcasm.
His gaze wandered aimlessly and he struggled to organize an answer before speaking.
She saw his discomfort. “I mean. I don't know,” she said. “I should, I guess. I just feel insecure. Can you help me?”
“Do you know? I mean do you have a feeling about it? Are we meant to be together...scheduled...pre-planned?”
“I think I do know. This information about us both being part of a group of spirits that shares experiences through reincarnation across eternity. I think it may be. I've had my dreams lately...of us together in the past. It may be that we...” She was hesitant to continue.
“What?” He nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“It may be that we go through eternity together, getting together in different times.” She lowered her gaze and spoke more softly. “Does that scare you? The possibility of something like that? It may be scheduled but I'm not holding you to any agreements or contracts made in some previous life or afterlife. I'm not going to...I'm not sure...I couldn't...”
Frank saved her. “It sounds perfect...and beautiful to me. I can't think of anything that would make life on this nut house of a planet more tolerable than that. It's what I'd choose.” He smiled and added, “I'd love to see the contract we signed.”
After about an hour and a half, Lynn said, “I've got to visit the restroom.” Frank said that there was most likely enough time left and she rushed off.
Lynn stood in front of the mirror and was appalled by the sight. Her hair was limp. Her eyeshadow smeared from the plastic she had been wrapped in, her mascara was smudged and her complexion looked flushed.
A fly landed on the wall nearby. She imagined what she must look like through the fly's eyes. One hundred images of Lynn. Christ, what a sight she thought. She couldn't even stand the sight of one image of herself in the mirror. She wet paper-toweled off the eye shadow and the mascara and pushed at her hair to try to put a bit of body into it. She wondered where the staff had put her handbag. She pinched her cheeks to try to get some color into them, gave up on the repair job and rushed back to Frank.
She found that the Lawrence Lowell body was quivering, as Frank, inside of it, was struggling to prevent the transfer until Lynn got back. He looked relieved, seeing her enter the room.
“It's happening,” said Frank, laying the Lawrence Lowell body back and let his spirit transfer to the now thawed, revived, and on life support, body of Frank Tilton,
“Mr. Lowell's body?” asked Hill.
Lynn replied, “Dry ice storage I guess. I should let it decay and be done with it but...dry ice.”
Hill began the dry ice storage of Lawrence Lowell's body.
CHAPTER 38
The limousine slowed a bit, approaching the outer gate to the Ice House. The chauffeur knew that the gate would be immediately opened for them and it was. The second gate too, was open when they arrived at it. The guard gave a loose salute to the vehicle. Mrs. Lowell reached over the seat and gave the chauffeur an envelope.
“Open this when I'm inside.”
She got out and the chauffeur watched her walk to the door of the Ice House. She had the black gym bag with her. Her shoulders were slumped, her head down.
The chauffeur looked one more time at the bag she was carrying, then down at the envelope. Then he realized that Mrs. Lowell was struggling with the bag. It appeared to be heavy. He thought that he should have been quick to offer to carry it for her but had been distracted by the strange behavior and the envelope and now she was inside anyway. He opened the envelope.
Inside was a cashier's check for one million dollars made out to him. The aged chauffeur's hands shook examining it. Clipped to the check was a note, “Thank you for all your years with me, the conversations during our drives, the advice, the companionship. Now you must leave this place at once. Go back to the house. On the table in the library are more envelopes. I leave it to you to distribute them to the staff. Thank you.”
The chauffeur knew he wouldn't be allowed into the Ice House. No sense following Mrs. Lowell to see what was up. He turned on the ignition and drove back out the gate to the mansion.
Frank blinked. It was good to be back in his body, He knew it would be a while before he could get up so he had time to just sit there and think about how he felt. He had noticed certain feelings before when he was inside the body of Lawrence Lowell after having been revived and he now noticed a lot of these feelings again. He concluded that they must be the short-term side-effects of being frozen or close to freezing, then thawed. He made a mental note to visit a cryogenics lab elsewhere if he could, later, and share with them the experiences and feelings and what he had learned at the Ice House. Frank had noticed a grayness to his vision that cleared the last time after about an hour and there was a dull background noise in his ears that he knew would clear in about an hour also.
Two things that he had to put up with after being revived as Lawrence Lowell he didn't have to put up with this time because his body had been kept slightly above freezing. There was no ice damage and so he didn't feel the slight damp feeling that remained for up to twelve hours after he was revived as Lawrence Lowell. The small percent of cells that were damaged after treatment gave that mushy feeling until they either naturally healed or the fluid was eliminated.
Frank remembered a constant need to go to the bathroom during those twelve hours, either from the increased fluid or from the breakdown of dead cells and the elimination of them by the overloaded kidneys. This also caused a slight yellowing of the skin, a minor jaundiced condition. The other feelings which he escaped this time by not being frozen stiff wa
s a slight pins and needles feeling which existed in his extremities for a while after being revived as Lawrence Lowell, probably due to collapse of some of the smaller capillaries in spite of the circulatory system being kept up to normal pressure during freezing. This he had been told occurred during draining and recirculating of his blood with the ice-preventative chemical in it.
Frank felt impatient now. He got up, slowly put his clothes on, one hand on the edge of the table as much as possible to balance himself.
But he had gotten up too soon. Lynn handed him the gun which had made her uncomfortable since the first second she had held it. “Want to take over?” He nodded and took the gun. Lynn added, “What do we do now Frank? Now what?” Frank's legs gave out despite his best efforts to keep himself up. He fell to the floor near Scott. Scott kicked out violently, dislodging the gun from Frank's hand. Hill bent over so quickly that when he straightened up with the gun he was wincing in pain and clutching his back.
Hill pointed the gun at Frank who was on the floor, but he seemed almost embarrassed to be holding a gun on somebody, then he pointed it at Lynn who wasn't about to move. Hill looked at Scott for instructions.
“Untie me, damn it!”
Hill hesitated, then went over and untied Scott who got up and stretched.
“I don't know,” Scott said, “what it's all about but I've been thinking. Maybe if you're dead for a year or so your spirit will become more neutral or something and will not be acting and thinking like Frank any more.” Scott pulled his pants away from his leg where they were matted with urine and continued. “Maybe then the transfer can work and Law will be Law when we revive him. His spirit will be him again. Anyway, nothing else works so I'll try it. He looked at Hill. “Shoot Tilton now!”
Hill's eyes were wide then narrowed on Scott.
“No, I just can't...No.” he said coolly. He stood firmly, holding the gun, not pointing it at anyone in particular now. He stared unblinking, challenging Scott with his gaze, but the display of defiance was for nothing as a muscle twitched uncontrollably at his temple giving him away. Hill gave in and handed the gun to Scott.
Scott leveled the gun at Frank but stopped as he heard the security door open. All eyes were on Mrs. Lowell as she walked in. Nobody said a word waiting to see what she wanted. Scott may have figured she was there to see Lawrence after all, and he kept the gun on Frank.
“Hello staff members, hello Scott, she said with sarcastic cheerfulness. She reached for her handbag. Lynn coughed and Scott glanced at her. When he looked back at Mrs. Lowell she was pointing a hand gun right at Scott's face. He had about one second to register what he was seeing. A look of horror began to form but before the look was complete, a flash left the barrel of the gun. Scott's head jerked back and he crashed against the wall and landed in a sitting position. His legs and arms twitched for a moment. A stream of blood flowed from the wound in his forehead and trickled down the side of his nose, changing direction slightly to flow around his mouth and running in a steady drip off of his chin.
“The monitor,” she said. “I've been watching from security for a half hour or so.” Nobody knew who's side she was on, if anyone's, so they all remained silent.
“You two young people. You've suffered enough. I know of the transfer of funds to your accounts. You deserve the money and I've left instructions that the transfer not be challenged.” She shook her head, pursed her lips, then said, “I've set a timer with explosives in the armory!” She drilled a hole through Hill with her eyes. That would have to suffice to express her dislike for him.
“I wasn't staying anywhere preparing myself to see my husband again. I went to see a gentleman in New York...” She turned to Frank and Lynn. “The city,' she explained. “He was nice enough to make me a device and explain how to use it.” Another enigmatic smile. “Scott knew the most useful people. I couldn't locate the person that I originally tried to contact down there. It later occurred to me that he must have been the person who blew up your car...and himself.” She gave an apologetic look at Frank and Lynn. “It's set to go off at 5:30. You've got fifteen minutes, I believe. As for you Mr. Hill and your staff, I should lock you in here. I'm not the least fond of you. But I wouldn't want your families to suffer...to be notified of your deaths in an accidental explosion. Your bonuses have been deposited and you can claim them. You did succeed with the project but your methods were disgraceful. You should all be in jail instead of about to enjoy a million dollars. But I can't begin to imagine how that kind of money can motivate someone that doesn't have it.” She made a threatening gesture with the gun and said loudly, “Leave! And let the others out on your way.”
Frank looked at Lynn for guidance. She must have known what he was feeling. She turned to Mrs. Lowell. “Please, Mrs. Lowell. Stop the explosion...disarm it. You deserve to live.”
A look of sadness came over her face, a look that Lynn had seen before. It was the same expression she had seen on the face of the father in her dream of the sinking ocean liner, the same look of something about to be lost, a look of resignation, melancholy, a look of what else was still left to do. But Lynn had no choice about leaving. “Thank you Mrs. Lowell,...I believe that we may see each other again sometime.”
Mrs. Lowell nodded then turned away, a signal to them that they were to leave now.
Frank and Lynn got in the rental car. Approaching the closed gate they saw the cars with Hill and the others speeding down the road outside the now-closed gate. Frank blew the horn expecting to be rushed through. He wondered why the guard was still there. The guard, acting with normal everyday procedure for non-staff cars, stepped out of the guard house with his clip board to check them out. Frank stopped and yelled, “Didn't they tell you? Didn't they tell you Mrs. Lowell is in there with a bomb? In the weapons and ammunition room. The room with all the explosives! We've got probably less than a couple minutes, maybe seconds.
In a fraction of a second, the guard seemed to think back. “Yeah,” he said, The staff car sped out pretty fast and they were waving and yelling something.” He hesitated a moment more then dropped his clip board and ran through the guard shelter. He hit the gate lever on the run. The gate didn't open completely. He hadn't fully moved the lever to the open setting. He stopped, looked back, then ran down the road. The lever sprung back to the closed position and the gate closed completely.
Frank backed up about fifty feet and rammed the gate but it didn't yield. He floored it in reverse. The front bumper tore loose and was left hanging on the gate. He backed up farther this time. Lynn's eyes were wide with fear. “Duck!” Frank yelled. She ducked behind the instrument panel. Frank floored it and headed for the gate.
Mrs. Lowell went over to where Lawrence was stored in dry ice. She opened the tank and looked at Lawrence's face obscured by ice and mist. She used the gun to push aside some of the dry ice and fanned away some of the mist with her hand to get a better look at his face.
She drew a long breath, sighed and said, “Why Law...why?”
Her mind drifted back to the day they had met. So young, with so much optimism, such potential.
What would have happened if he had put his intelligence, his business ability, his luck, toward good instead of letting his darkest thoughts and tendencies go unchecked, to more and more dominate his life, until his only reason for existing was to inflict pain, suffering and death.
She let the mists from the dry ice reclaim the image of his face.
“Goodbye Law,” she said and closed the tank.
About half way to the gate, Frank changed direction and headed for the embankment. The speedometer read 68...69...70. he hit the embankment at a slight angle so he wouldn't nose into the dirt. The car climbed, spewing dirt and grass behind it as it fought up the embankment.
It sounded like the bottom of the car was being hit with a hailstorm as the tires churned up the slope, digging up rocks and debris and pelting the metal bottom with them. The front tires threatened to dig in and stop the car dead a couple of
times, but it fought upward until it lost too much speed and traction and came to a stop at the top, the tires spinning uselessly over the edge.
“Let's go!” yelled frank. They threw open the doors and dove over the embankment allowing themselves to roll down, huddling together on the outside of the embankment about half way down.
Mrs. Lowell stood with the gun, her hand hanging at her side. She repeated aloud some of the lines from the plaque on the door.“I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.”
She said the lines with emphasis on the I, to assert that it was no longer Lawrence Lowell, but she who was the master of fate and the captain of souls.
She slowly raised the gun towards her temple. Her hand was steady. She was not the basket case that she imagined she would be when she had to face death. She was rich but in her case she didn't have any more to lose than a poor person. She didn't have more to leave behind. In her case, life and a future with Lawrence Lowell held more fear for her than death. She closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.
Frank and Lynn saw cars coming up the road toward the embankment. They stopped about a hundred yards from the gates and some state troopers got out. With them was Mike Bostwick, who had gone to the State Police headquarters and brought them back. He had come through at the end, not willing to go along with what Scott had in mind for Frank and Lynn. They approached. Frank hoped that the troopers had intercepted Hill and the other members of the staff along the road out.
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