by S. E. Meyer
“Two, six, ten, fourteen, twenty-two,” she finished, turning around. “Ooh, what are all these switches?”
Everyone's eyes grew wide as they jumped for the back room, yelling in unison. “Delores, no!”
Damarion grabbed Delores's hand as it reached the first detonator switch. “It's okay,” he said. “Let's go into the other room.”
Delores nodded, following Damarion away from the remotes. “I'm sorry, I can't help it.”
Damarion smiled. “I know.” He turned to Jax. “We need to secure those.”
Jax paced the room, looking for something to house the remotes. “Here, this might work,” he said, finding a metal storage cabinet. He opened the doors and a set of keys dropped to the floor. “Perfect,” he said, retrieving the keys before carrying the cabinet to the shelving room. He placed the box next to the shelves and set the remotes for the detonators inside. After closing the cabinet, he slid the key in the handle, locking the doors. Jax placed one key in his pocket and handed the other to George. “There are only two keys. One of us will have to stay close at all times.”
CHAPTER XV
Anna inched around the back of the police station, stopping to listen for any sign of the guards. With the street barren and the building’s front vacant, she crept to the front door and tried the handle. The door swung open.
Anna let out a breath.
She ducked inside and snapped the keys from the wall before heading to Atticus's cell.
Atticus greeted her with wide eyes. “Anna, you got out.”
She slid the key into the slot and twisted the lock open. “Yes, now we need to get the hell out of here.”
Atticus swung the door. “We can't leave town.”
“What? Why? We need to leave before someone sees us.”
“Anna, this town is why I'm here. Why you're here. This is the most important part of my plan. We have to return everyone to Easton. We must prove once and for all there is a cure. I have planned this for years. We will show the people their government has been lying to them all along.” Atticus raised his hands. “When the citizens of Easton see their family members return free of disease, it will spark revolution, ending Cromwell's tyranny.”
Anna lowered her eyebrows. “Their loved ones? These people are from Easton?”
“Yes, banished over the years for not being able to afford treatments or other petty crimes. The most crucial part of this plan is for them to return.”
“How are you supposed to get them to Easton while sitting in a jail cell?”
“That was a misunderstanding between myself and the new police chief. That's why I needed you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are the only one that can change his mind. Anna the Police Chief of New Easton is-” The door swung open, cutting Atticus off.
William Wool entered the station and froze, his eyebrows narrowing as he shook his head. “Anna?”
Anna's heart leaped from her chest as the corners of her mouth stretched into a broad smile. “Billy!” Anna ran to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. She looked into his eyes. “You're still alive. You don’t understand how long I've dreamt of this moment. I always hoped I would see you again. What are you doing here?”
Billy drew away from Anna's embrace. “I was sent here, remember?”
Anna stepped back to study his face. “What's wrong? Aren't you happy to see me?” Anna tipped her head. “I missed you so much.”
“Anna, a lot has changed. I-”
The mayor burst through the police station door. “Willy!” Shelia pulled Billy into a long embrace before placing her lips on his. “They said you were back.”
Willy?
The kiss continued while Anna shook her head, balling her fists.
Billy ended the kiss, making eye contact with Anna. “I'm sorry, Anna. I never thought I would see you again. Like I said, a lot has changed.”
“Apparently,” Anna spat.
Sheila raised an eyebrow. “You two know each other?”
Billy turned back to Sheila. “Sheila, this is Anna Morton.”
Sheila extended her hand. “Anna, Willy has told me a lot about you.”
Anna ignored the offer. “It's Anna Wool now.”
Billy squinted. “So, you got married too.”
Anna pushed Billy, her pulse throbbing in her neck. “What do you mean, too?” She glared at Sheila before turning towards Billy. “You're married?” Anna swung her head. “No, you idiot, I didn't get married. I changed my name in honor of you getting sent away. It was to recognize the ring you put on my finger. It was my way of immortalizing you after what I assumed would be your death.”
Sheila smiled. “That is so sweet.”
Anna cocked her head, throwing a wistful look towards Sheila. “Isn't it?”
“Anna, why are you here?”
Anna stared into Billy's eyes. The thoughts running through her mind were many and varied. A wife and a new life? A new name? She couldn't decide if she should slap Billy upside the head, or punch Sheila in her pretty nose. It was a cold question. 'Why are you here?'
There was no joyous reunion, or loving embrace. No soft touch, followed by hours of lovemaking that Anna had replayed in her head. She had hoped of this impossible opportunity, playing and replaying it in her mind. A tender moment where wrongs would be righted. Best friends and lovers, reunited to complete their lifetime together. A second chance to follow fate.
“Anna, why are you here?” Billy repeated.
Anger crawled inside her skin, boiling her blood as she glanced towards Sheila. As she eyed the woman, hatred spurred Anna’s wrath towards Richard and Cornelius for sending Billy here. The sudden and desperate need to avenge her loss formed an idea.
Atticus said we needed everyone to come to Easton to take him down.
Anna's hands trembled, fresh adrenaline fueling her fire, as she came up with a lie.
“I'm here to warn all of you. I received information from the inside. You need to call a town meeting.”
Billy looked at Sheila and then back to Anna. “Why, what's going on?”
“Cornelius knows I'm here, and he's coming to kill us all. We have to leave.”
“Whoa, slow down there. We're not leaving,” Billy said. He turned to Atticus. “Did you put her up to this?”
Atticus shook his head. “This is the first I'm hearing of it. But if it’s true, we must leave, now.”
Billy let out a sigh. “Cromwell has left us alone so far. We're well hidden in this valley, and from what I've heard from the older members of our town, been living here in peace for decades. I think we'll take our chances. The only people leaving are you and Anna.”
Anna threw her arms in the air. “You're acting like a fool. He's left you alone, because he didn’t realize you were here. Trust me, Billy. He's coming. He's coming and he'll leave no one alive.”
Billy nodded. “Fine. I'll call a meeting so we can inform everyone, but I'm leaving it up to the people of this town to decide what to do. My recommendation will be to stay.” Billy turned to walk away and stopped. He looked at Sheila. “Make sure we get everyone.”
“And the one in the back cell?”
“Richard?” Anna said.
Billy pressed his lips together. “He's here too? Great,” he said, shaking his head.
“He has Fleishman's, and it's getting bad,” Sheila added.
“Yes, cuff him and bring him too. It will make it easier for people to decide what to do with him if they see his ugly red face.”
Billy turned to Atticus. “You two meet us at the church in half an hour. Let's get this over with once and for all.”
CHAPTER XVI
Four Years Earlier
Atticus gripped the brass handle of the narthex doors and entered the empty church. With slumped shoulders and head down, he shuffled to the front of the sanctuary and crossed the transepts. While wiping a tear from his left cheek, he lifted the lighting candle to the left of the chancel and lit a votive with a
shaking hand.
“You look troubled, my son,” Father Jeffrey said from behind him.
Atticus turned to face the priest.
“Let's talk, my son.”
Atticus swallowed hard, pressing his lips together. “I cannot find the words, Father.”
“Is this about your situation? Has it ended?”
Atticus nodded. “My heart cries out. She was my true love.”
“My prayers are with you for your loss.”
“You don't understand Father. She has passed. I will never love another.”
“Time heals all things, my son.”
“Even death? Loss of love? Heartbreak? Does time heal those wounds, Father?”
“Time and Him. Allow Him to wrap his arms of love around you. Find comfort in that.” Father Jeffrey gestured towards the crucifix. “But there will always be a scar.”
The narthex door clanged shut, startling the Holy Ghost from the Father and son.
Atticus whipped around. “You!” he roared.
Damarion hoofed to the church’s front, taking long strides.
Atticus shook his head. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm taking Franks' place today.” Damarion opened his jacket, revealing a small box.
“No, I will not trade with a traitor!”
“I am not a traitor!” Damarion said.
“I found out Cromwell has Victoria in the Chamber. I've been looking for thirty pieces of silver, but instead, I found a ransom.”
“I would never betray our plan. Losing Margaret is a huge blow. We are all mourning her death, but we must move forward with the plan. Our purpose is greater than one life.”
“Get out!,” Atticus demanded through red cheeks. “It had to be you. If it wasn't you then who else betrayed us all?” Atticus slapped the pew with his palm. “You say our purpose is greater than one life, but you would do anything to save Victoria.”
“I swear to you, Atticus, I would never give up our plan for one person, no matter how much she means to me.”
“I said get out!” Atticus shoved Damarion, pushing him backwards.
Damarion turned, shaking his head. He took three steps and stopped, turning back to Atticus. They both stared up at the crucifix for a quiet moment before Damarion spoke. “You put your faith in Him, Atticus. Remember, His purpose was also greater than one life.”
Atticus picked up a prayer book from the pew. “Funny you should mention Him.”
“Why?” Damarion asked.
“He was also betrayed by one of His twelve closest friends.” Atticus turned, throwing the book at Damarion. “Now get out!”
Damarion retreated to the Narthex and exited through the doors.
Atticus sat down on the pew, holding his head in his palms. “Give me strength,” he whispered.
Atticus smelled smoke.
He glanced around the church to find thick black ribbons rising between the walls and baseboard trim. More smoke poured in from two cast iron grates open to the basement.
He stood, looking for the source as the sanctuary filled with a choking cloud.
Atticus coughed, dropping to his knees. The priest grabbed him by the arm. “Come, the church is on fire. We have to get out.”
They raced between the pews to the Narthex and flew through the doors. The smoke was thick inside the main exterior access. They both slammed into the doors, bouncing backward.
Father Jeffrey rattled the handles. “They're blocked!”
“There must be another way out!”
“The side door. Behind the alter.” The two men ran to the sanctuary's front and headed for the side exit. The priest pried the handle with both hands. “Someone has locked us in.”
“Damarion,” Atticus whispered. He turned, taking a step back before slamming himself into the door.
“I don't know what to do,” Father Jeffrey shouted. “We're going to burn alive!”
Flames licked the walls around them as both men coughed, sputtering, the smell of burning lead paint and layered lacquer stinging their eyes.
“I'll get to a window,” Atticus said. He fled to the sanctuary, covering his mouth with his sleeve. Atticus's shoes slid on the melting red carpet as he raced to the stained glass.
They're too high.
He spun on his heel, attempting to return to Father Jeffrey as a wall of fire burst through the floor grates, engulfing his path. Sweat dripping from his chin Atticus jumped through the flames landing on the other side in a ball of fire. Heart pounding, he went into a fit of coughing as his clothes melted to his skin. He screamed, writhing on the floor as the priest crawled to his side. He covered Atticus with sacrament cloth, extinguishing the flames and grabbed him by the arms. Skin slid away from his forearms as the priest pulled, dragging Atticus backwards towards the door. Father Jeffrey turned, beating on the hardwood exit, choking in smoke as the wails of Atticus rung in his ears.
The back door opened in a sudden thrust, revealing a teenager.
“Oh, thank God, my son. Help me get him outside,” the priest urged.
The teenage boy grabbed one arm, while the Father Jeffrey grabbed the other. Atticus cried out before losing consciousness as they slid his body along the cool grass.
“Call 911. What's your name boy?” the priest asked, out of breath and still coughing.
“Richard,” the young man replied.
“Well, Richard. You're a hero. You saved two lives today.”
CROSS CUT
Richard arrived home with soot streaked across his cheeks and smelling of smoke. He entered the ballroom to find his grandfather awaiting his return.
“Well, is it done?” Cornelius asked.
Richard nodded, balling his fists.
“Are you sure? You stayed long enough to verify his death?”
“Yes,” Richard lied.
“Good. There's hope for you yet, boy.” Cornelius turned to the brandy in his left hand. “Their leader has fallen. The rest will follow. My only regret is not being there to hear his skin crackle.”
Cornelius smiled. “You're dismissed.”
Richard headed for the stairs to his room as Cornelius entered his study. He tapped his tablet and pulled up the local news channel.
“This is Rebecca Ryder, reporting live from the scene of a church fire on Easton's west side.”
Cornelius leaned in towards the screen, watching the flames lick the sky in the background.
“I spoke with a survivor of the fire a few moments ago.”
The view changed to a priest sitting in front of an ambulance, wearing a blanket and taking oxygen through a mask.
“Father, how did you survive this devastating fire?”
Father Jeffrey pulled the mask from his face. “We have a hero in the city.” He coughed before continuing. “A young man helped us escape.”
Cornelius raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
The priest took another breath of oxygen. “His name is Richard, and he's the only reason Atticus and I survived.”
Cornelius slammed his glass on the desk, sending a spray of brandy across his tablet.
“Richard!” he screamed through red jowls. “Get in here!”
Richard arrived with belt in hand. “I'm sorry. I couldn't do it,” he said, handing the belt to his grandfather.
“You're sixteen, Richard. You're an adult now. You must learn to do whatever it takes,” Cornelius spat.
Richard lifted his shirt and leaned forward towards the wall. “I couldn't take the screaming. I had to let them out.”
“You're a lying little shit, useless if you can't follow simple directions.”
Richard winced. Anticipation of the pain was nearly as unbearable as the pain itself. “Get it over with.”
“No,” Cornelius said. “My belt has lost its bite. I‘m taking you downstairs.” He smiled. “Maybe the Chamber will teach you a lesson.”
CHAPTER XVII
Anna's Present
Cornelius's motorcade moved through the city
streets heading for the warehouse district. There was an underground bar set under Third Street where Cornelius enjoyed unwinding with illegal gambling and prostitution. It was rare for him to leave the house. A man with his stature and money could have anything delivered to his home, except for what he found below Third Street.
Cornelius's phone rang. “Yes, what is it?”
“We re-locked onto the girl's signal and sent a fly by with the drones, per your instructions.”
“Yes?” Cornelius replied.
“I'm sending you the footage now.”
Cornelius lifted his tablet from the seat and tapped the screen. His eyes widened.
“There is an entire town out there. And it would appear they're all cured.”
Cornelius bit into his lower lip.
“And another thing, Sir. Facial recognition came back. They are all from Easton.”
Cornelius shook his head. “Impossible. Right under our noses. Enough of this. It's time to end it. Prepare the drones for an air strike. I want it gone. All of it, you understand?”
“Yes, Sir. I'll recall the drones now. They will be recharged and armed by morning,”
“You have the girl's coordinates. Let me know when you're ready.” Cornelius ended the call.
After lighting a cigarette, he let out a stiff breath as the city blocks rolled past the tinted, bulletproof glass of his window. The motorcade came to a red light, stopping at the corner of Wellington and Bridge St.
There was a large crowd assembled near the intersection with their forearms crossed into the shape of an 'X'. Several demonstrators held signs that read. 'Representation through choice.', and 'Young voters matter.'
Cornelius pursed his lips, recalling what his father used to say.
'You can fool some people all the time and you can fool all the people some time, but you can't fool all the people all the time'.
He shook his head.
What is that all about?
The car made its way to the warehouse district, pulling up to a building with peeling paint. The only signage was the graffiti that stretched across its walls.