The Silent Child Boxset

by Roger Hayden

“Keep them at bay,” Harris advised. “We don’t want anyone to move in just yet and spook him.”

  “If he’s even here yet,” Jones said.

  Dobson signaled among the crowd. “Let’s split up and cover all sides here. Just don’t make it known that we’re detectives. A nonchalant stroll through the park, if you will.”

  Harris and Jones agreed and walked off toward the crowd, separating from each other. Dobson looked around for the other undercover officers. Several were mulling around the stage. Others were near the bleachers. Some were watching the crowd. If Landon was there to create havoc, Dobson felt that there was no way they couldn’t weed him out.

  He kept his distance from the gathering and scanned the crowd with his binoculars. Normal families held onto their candles, staring at the stage with resolve as the speaker introduced Mayor Norman Brown of Leesburg. He approached the microphone in a suit and tie, slick back hair, and a calm southern drawl that seemed to further put the crowd at ease. After welcoming the crowd, he delivered emphasizing resilience and vigilance.

  “The last thing we will allow ourselves to do is to live in fear. The perpetrator or perpetrators will be brought to justice, I can assure you. As I look into the crowd, I see people from all over who have come to celebrate our wonderful town and school that has meant so much for this community.”

  As the mayor’s voice echoed through the PA system, Dobson moved to the far end of the field to better see the faces of the crowd. The sky was getting darker, and with it the chances of seeing one person in a large crowd. He held the binoculars firmly against his eyes and tried to focus on any face that looked the least bit concealed or suspicious. His cell phone buzzed again, and he reached for it immediately. The number this time he recognized as a Charleston area code. He briefly watched the crowd for anyone on their cell phone and then answered.

  “This is Detective Dobson.”

  “Hello, Detective. This is Dr. Calleson at Charleston Regional,” the man said in a voice much different from Landon’s distorted tone.

  “Yes, Doctor. How can I help you?”

  “I have a woman here. She’s a bit banged up, but she’s doing fine. I don’t know all the details but she was flown in to our hospital this morning. Her name is Angela Sterling.”

  Dobson’s heart skipped a beat as he dropped his binoculars and turned from the crowd. “What-what happened? Is she okay?”

  “Yes. As I said, she’s doing better. She suffered some burns and a minor concussion, but we’re getting her back to health.”

  “Where did you find her?” Dobson demanded.

  “There was a cabin fire. I don’t know what she was doing there. All I know is that she insists on only talking with you.”

  Suddenly, nothing else going on at the park mattered. All he wanted to hear was her voice. “Put her on, damn it!” He paused and changed his tone. “I’m sorry. Please.”

  “Of course. One minute.”

  He heard the doctor shuffle around and then he was back on the line. “She’s still recovering, but she says that she’s ready to talk to you.”

  “Okay. Fine. Thanks.”

  He listened as the doctor handed the phone over and Sterling’s faint voice came over the line. “Detective Dobson. Is it really you?”

  “Sterling! Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m so glad I got a hold of you. My memory’s a mess, but I do remember your cell phone number. Is that weird?” Her speech was slightly slurred, but Dobson knew that she was trying. “I told them that I’m a rookie detective. But I’ve got no ID or anything. I knew that I had to talk to only you.”

  “I’m here, Sterling. Just tell me what’s going on,” Dobson said as patient as he could be.

  “Landon. He’s there at the field. You’re there too, right?”

  “Yes,” Dobson said. “What’s he going to do?”

  “I read his plans. He blew up the cabin. I-I almost died.”

  “I’m listening,” Dobson said in between her lengthy pauses.

  “He’s got explosives buried all around there underground. He buried them weeks ago like IEDs. There’s something like three or four thirty-gallon drums of explosives. He’s going to detonate them remotely. It’s… a suicide mission. He blames the entire school for what happened to him.”

  Dobson’s eyes darted around the crowd as he moved down the field.

  “He said he’d be standing in the center of the crowd. You’ve got to stop him.”

  “Okay,” Dobson said calmly. “I will. Is there anything else you can tell me?” He waited but received no response. “Sterling?”

  “I’m here,” she said with her tone drifting. “Just stop him…”

  “Thank you, Sterling,” he said. “I’ll visit you once this is all over. That’s a promise.”

  He paused and listened for a response. “You still there?”

  “Yeah…” she said. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

  “You’ve done great. Believe me.”

  “I did?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said, smiling. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Get him, Mike. Don’t let him do it.”

  “I will. Gotta go. Bye.”

  Silence came over the line again as he hung up. He went for his hand-held radio and announced the latest update.

  “All officers, stand down. Do not move in until I say so. Suspect may have explosives on him.”

  Pursuing Landon was a large gamble, and he hadn’t any idea of how much time they had. Closer to the crowd, he slowed his pace to appear more casual. His hand went to the pistol on his belt, under his coat. He saw Harris from the across the crowd on the other side and signaled him to move in on the center. The mayor introduced a chaplain who then led the crowd in prayer. There, twenty feet head, Dobson watched all the heads bow except for one in the middle.

  A man of average height with a thick head of brown hair. Dobson paused as he brought his binoculars up. He knew a wig when he saw one. He lightly pushed his way through the crowd as Harris and Jones moved toward them at opposite directions. The chaplain’s words rang through the speakers. Dobson kept his hand close to his pistol. The man with the hair then slightly turned. Dobson could see that he was wearing aviator sunglasses. They seemed to make brief eye contact, before the man turned around and suddenly bowed his head. It was a suspicious enough move that had Dobson increasing his speed. As he nudged his way between families, the man in the wig suddenly spun around, grabbed a woman in a headlock and held up a cell phone.

  “Don’t fucking no one move!”

  The stunned crowd raised their heads. Dobson drew his gun. A rising of panic soon followed. Harris and Jones did their best to keep the people calm. The man tore off his wig, revealing a bald head, as he dragged the panicked woman closer to the stage and past stunned people, turning her at all sides to cover himself.

  “Everyone stay calm!” Dobson said, moving through the crowd. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Landon laughed as he reached the front of the stage. The mayor and everyone else was staring down at him, and no one was sure what to do.

  “It’s over, Landon,” Dobson said. Harris, Jones, and a dozen undercover officers surrounded him from all sides, closing in. A hushed silence came over the frightened crowd. Increasingly paranoid, Landon shouted for the authorities to stay back. “You think I’m messing around here! I’ll snap her neck like a twig!”

  Dobson calmly approached him with both hands in the air. “Just let the woman go. This has nothing to do with her.” He noticed several of the officers pull their guns out with local TV cameras on site. “Do not shoot him!” he shouted. “No one fires. Got it?”

  The officers kept their distance. Dobson signaled Harris and Jones to do the same. “Come on, Landon. Sterling just called me. She told me everything you planned to do.”

  Landon paused and then displayed the cell phone right next to the woman’s head. “I’m pleasantly surprised. Now let me tell you
what’s going to happen now. I’m going to press this button and blow this entire field to kingdom come. Everyone’s coming with me!”

  Frightened murmurs passed through the crowd, as Landon signaled everyone to slowly walk move away from the stage. There was too much happening for Landon to keep up with. His attention shifted frantically in all direction. “One more person moves, and it’s KABOOM!”

  “You won’t,” Dobson said, standing across from Landon like a Wild West showdown. He had one moment and one moment only. And he knew it.

  Landon’s latex face contorted in utter anger and confusion as he kept a tight grip around the woman’s neck. “What do you mean, I won’t? Are you testing me, Detective? You came all this way just to fucking die, you fool! How’s that for retirement. How’s that for—”

  Dobson drew his pistol, took a quick stance, and blasted a shot clear through Landon’s hand, blowing the phone into pieces. The crowd screamed and dispersed in a myriad of directions. Landon fell back in shock, hand pouring with blood, as the woman ran from him. He regained his footing still unable to process what just happened.

  Dobson moved toward him, pistol drawn, as Landon pulled a knife out from under his tweed coat. Dobson pummeled into him with the force of a fifty-something linebacker. They collapsed against the stage as the undercover officers surrounded them. Dobson turned Landon around and handcuffed him, knee against his back. Landon screamed out in pain, tears in his eyes.

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill all of you.”

  He moved off Landon and pulled him up, pushing him to the officers as part of his latex mask tore off, revealing dead blackened skin underneath. Harris and Jones looked at both Dobson and Landon, shocked, with their pistols still drawn. Dobson looked at them, satisfied, and then back at Landon. “You’re not going to die that easily. Not in this town.” And then they took him away.

  * * *

  Dobson approached the ambulance where Landon was being held. Hyde Park had been cleared out. Ordinance teams had been dispatched along with engineers and excavation teams to locate the bombs he had planted in the ground. Over a dozen groups ascended onto the field to dig the perimeter however long it took. If what Sterling told Dobson were true, no one at the vigil had any idea how close they had come to certain death. Dobson hoped they wouldn’t have to know. The nightmare, it seemed, was over.

  He stood outside the ambulance door as its lights flashed wildly on top. Two police officers walked around to meet him, both shaking his hand.

  “How’s our boy?” Dobson asked.

  “They’ve got him stabilized,” Sergeant Cruz answered. “He lost a lot of blood. Paramedics had to give him a pint.”

  “Should have let the son of a bitch die,” Sergeant Peterson said, spitting on the ground.

  Dobson shook his head with a flippant smile. “That’s exactly what he wanted. It’s better off this way, trust me.”

  Sergeant Cruz studied Dobson as sirens wailed in the distance. “How did you know, Mike? About the bomb thing, anyway.”

  Dobson patted Cruz on the shoulder. “Detective Sterling. She found out everything.”

  “Well, thank God for that,” Peterson added.

  Dobson nodded with his hand on the back of the ambulance door. “Can I speak to him now?”

  Both officers looked at each other and shrugged. “Yeah,” Cruz said. “He’s just lying there, handcuffed to the railing. Paramedics wrapped his hand up good.”

  “Thanks,” Dobson said, opening the door. “This won’t take long.” He peeked inside and saw Landon lying on a gurney, handcuffed to the railing, hand bandaged, and staring up at the ceiling. Cables ran from his chest to beeping machines as cold air rushed from overhead vents. The ambulance engine hummed as the two paramedics sat up front, taking little notice of Dobson’s entrance.

  He climbed inside and shut the door behind him. Crouched low, he moved to a small bench near Landon’s gurney and took a seat. Landon’s vacant eyes stared upward, unblinking and without emotion. Half of his latex mask was missing with charred pink flesh exposed.

  “Have they read you your rights yet?” Dobson asked.

  Landon said nothing as his eyes remained on the ceiling. Dobson cleared his throat, leaned forward, and continued. “If they haven’t, here we go. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to police and to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney.” Dobson paused and took a breath. “Knowing your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”

  Dobson stared down at Landon and waited, expecting a response. “What happened to Detective Sterling?” he asked abruptly. “What did you do to her?”

  A smile came across Landon’s face, exposing pearly white dentures. Though he wouldn’t so much as glance at Dobson. “I gave her a choice, like I told you.” His quiet-raspy voice made Dobson’s skin crawl.

  “Well, she called me from the hospital,” Dobson said, recording the conversation on his cell phone. “She’s going to be okay. I don’t know what happened between you too, but she told me about your improvised explosives.”

  Landon’s smile dropped as he turned away and stared at the wall.

  “Nothing to say?” Dobson asked. “Cat’s got your tongue.”

  Landon sighed and continued to look away. “She’s good. I’ll give her that.” He then rocked his head in Dobson’s direction and stared at him through bloodshot eyes. “I’ll take comfort in knowing that I got most of my work done. No one can take that away from me, Detective. Not even you.”

  Dobson leaned closer and spoke softly as the paramedics chatted back and forth. “You accomplished nothing. I’ll see you in court.” He then stood up, crouching, and walked to the back doors. He then grabbed the handle, paused, and turned his head. “Who knows. You might get the death penalty.” He opened the doors and began to step out as Landon back to him.

  “Oh, Detective!”

  Dobson stopped, one leg out the door, and turned around. “What is it?”

  Landon slowly sat up, taking his time. He grabbed at the remainder of latex on his head and yanked it off, revealing bald, hairless skin, deeply scarred and melded. “I dropped by your house earlier. Pity that Rachel wasn’t there. I left a surprise for you inside, though. Right on the kitchen table.”

  Dobson thought to himself, anger rising, and stepped back into the ambulance, slamming the doors. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Landon smiled and rested his head back to stare at the ceiling. Dobson rushed toward the gurney and shook the railing, livid. “Talk to me, you piece of shit!”

  The driver suddenly turned around with deep concern. “Hey! That’s enough, Detective. We’ve got to get him to the hospital now.”

  Dobson stared down at Landon, tie dangling in his face. “I’ll kill you right here, you son of a bitch.”

  The back doors swung open with Sergeant Cruz and Peterson peering inside. “Come on, Mike. Time to wrap it up.”

  Dobson’s focus remained on Landon, who simply looked away with an underlying grin of amusement. Dobson took a deep breath and stormed out of the ambulance, frustrated. He nearly fell to the ground as Cruz caught him.

  “Easy there. What happened?” he asked.

  Dobson pushed past him and Peterson and ran past the ambulance and toward the parking lot where his car awaited among the entire Summerville police department. He jumped into the driver’s seat and peeled out, speeding out of the parking lot without looking back.

  * * *

  Dobson held the cell phone to his ear as he raced through traffic, trying to get home. The number rang and rang until a woman answered.

  “Charleston Regional, this is Mary. How
may I direct your call?”

  “This is Detective Dobson with the Summerville Homicide Department. I’d like to speak to a patient you have there, Angela Sterling?”

  A pause followed as the woman responded. “Just one moment please.”

  Dobson waited and slammed on his brakes at a traffic light turning red. Sterling’s welcomed voice soon came over the line, causing a wave of relief.

  “Detective Dobson? Is that you?”

  Dobson smiled. “You can call me, Mike. How’s everything going?”

  “Just fine,” she said in a tired voice. “How’d it go? Did you stop him?”

  The light turned green and Dobson raced through the intersection. “We did, thanks to you.”

  “That’s great. I’m so happy to hear that.”

  “It was close, but we caught him. I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. It’s over.”

  “I knew you could do it,” she said.

  Dobson passed a slow-moving station wagon on the two-lane road and then switched over, tires screeching. “They’re digging up the bombs now. Landon was arrested, and everyone’s okay. I’ve got to go, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  Sterling laughed. “They shaved my head. I’ve never had a shaved head before. It’s so weird.”

  “You get better now, and I’ll come visit you tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Sure, Mike. See you soon,” she said.

  Dobson said goodbye and turned down his quiet neighborhood street. A full moon was out, illuminating the starry sky. Under any normal circumstance, he’d be able to enjoy the view. He swerved into the driveway and jammed the car into park, hopping out immediately. He examined the street with lights on in the windows of other houses and cars parked in the street. The police detail that was supposed to be watching his house was nowhere to be seen.

  He walked toward the house with his pistol out. Even with Landon captured, he didn’t feel safe. The front door was locked. He pulled his keys out and unlocked it. Door creaking open, he walked inside, directly toward the kitchen where he flicked on the light switch. The house was eerily quiet. He felt a cool draft through a broken window in the back but ignored it.