The Suicide Society

by William Brennan Knight

  “How did you know?” Maybel struck a match to light her Pall Mall, but she was shaking, and there was not enough contact with the flame to ignite the tobacco. Zach reached out and steadied her hand, and she gratefully accepted while puffing deeply.

  Zach sipped at the tea she just made. “I don’t exactly. I have these visions—hallucinations, I guess. I never thought they were real, but the last two were different. I was able to find a name and address.” Zach laced his fingers and pushed them outward. “When I saw you, I could communicate, at least it seemed like I could. Were you able to hear me?”

  “Yes, I heard you. But it was more than that. I felt your—warmth. It made me want to live. At least long enough to meet you.”

  He looked down at his shoes. “I got the first flight I could… Probably should have called the police first, but they would have thought I was crazy. Honestly, I’m not sure I expected to see you alive.”

  Maybel ran her finger around the rim of her saucer. “Well, I might not have been, except…..”

  “Except what?”

  “Yes,” said Anston. “Can you tell us what happened? Thank God you changed your mind.”

  “Actually, I didn’t change my mind,” she said. “It’s just that—you weren’t the first one that—I, uh… I had another visitor during my darkest time. He came to me as you did. Well, not exactly the same way… It’s hard to explain. He gave me a choice; a chance to salvage my life.”

  “A visitor?” Zach faced her directly. “I didn’t see anyone but you in my vision.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t seem to find the right words. “He was there earlier,” she finally said. “Maybe at the same time, I don’t know. He promised me many things. Many things that tempted me. I am still tempted.”

  “What kind of promises?” asked Anston.

  Mabel Downey took a deep drag from the cigarette and allowed the smoke to linger in her lungs. “Well, I was about to, you know, cut myself when I heard a noise from the kitchen…” She went on to recount her introduction to Mr. Cox and their unusual exchange, trying to mimic his wicked sarcasm without much success.

  “In an odd way, perhaps, he actually saved my life. I’m quite certain that if he hadn’t arrived, the cuts on my wrists would have been much deeper. I tried, but just couldn’t get him out of my mind. And then of course, you came.” She shook her head and wiped a tear from her eye.

  “Still, nothing has changed for me. I lost my husband and daughter both in the past year, and I have no money through no fault of my own. There’s nothing to live for, really. I’ve thought about calling out to him. He made so many promises; almost anything is better than this constant, pounding despair.”

  Anston leaned back in his chair. “So he offers you support, and you have to repay him by giving him information?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what he said. He wasn’t specific, but he told me there were all sorts of options. Maybe he wants me to kill someone. Do you think he would ask me to do something like that?”

  Zach leaned forward in his chair, moving closer to the stricken women. “Can I ask you a favor? May I hold your hands for a moment?”

  She recoiled slightly but seemed to relax as she stared into his eyes. Hesitantly, Maybel extended her weathered hands and placed them inside Zach’s. The results were instantaneous, and Anston watched as though both appeared to be locked together by some invisible bond of extraordinary strength. Their backs went simultaneously rigid, and their eyes widened. It looked like twin images of the same experience.

  Somewhere in the depths of the mind’s universe, Zach and Maybel Downey faced each other. For an instant, and for an eternity, they shared deep thoughts, emotions, and reflections. Zach felt Maybel’s pain as she experienced it; the same hurt, shame, anger and sickness of the soul. She shared the intense suffering brought on by her husband’s death, and the unbearable pain of her daughter’s passing in an auto accident.

  In return, she understood Zach’s own guilt at the failure of his marriage. The deep humiliation that came from being cast aside by his wife without any regard for his feelings. Maybel experienced the raw, emotional torment Zach felt every time he looked at his daughter. As they connected, some of the deepest pain was released, and the experience served to cleanse them both.

  Zach looked at her and tried to talk, but they inhabited a place with no words, and instead, his thoughts were conveyed to her like waves of warm air currents.

  It’s all right now. We’re connected, and I believe that we will be able to maintain this bond whenever we call on each other, regardless of the distance. I don’t know how I know this, but I believe it’s true.

  She smiled as grayish mists and monotone colors swirled around his face. Thank you. You understand. I can feel it. You hurt as well. Maybe—maybe all of us hurt.

  Maybel saw a door in the distance, deep within Zach’s consciousness. The door was outlined in bright white, but black shadows leaked through gaps in the frame. She moved toward it, reaching out and grasping a gleaming silver handle. As she began to turn it, a strong hand closed on her own.

  Please, don’t.

  She looked at him and tilted her head slightly. There is a secret behind this door. Someone does not want you to discover it. Why? Perhaps we can face it, together.

  I… I can’t.

  A deafening screech emanated from behind the shimmering door, and it shattered the calm like exploding plate glass. The warmth faded and was replaced with a deep chill. Blackness covered them, and they instinctively huddled together.

  Whaa? Zach tried to disengage from the coupling, but he seemed to be locked or fused with her. The weight of the artificial consciousness he created collapsed in on them with extraordinary force. He felt helpless and terrified.

  ***

  Some 500 miles away, the Benefactor rose up in his chair and momentarily stopped talking. He was in the middle of relaying plans to the various global terrorist cells for the distribution of the weapons-grade plutonium suitcase bombs. The final planning stages plotted a time frame for activation and detonation.

  However, a spike of contaminated kinetic energy unexpectedly permeated the vast, dark, purity of the current that flowed through Mr. Cox. It felt foreign, pure and almost paralyzing. A self-contained sphere brimming with hot-white emotional content sickened him to his core. If left unaddressed, it might expand and possibly taint many of the tendrils Cox used to connect to his disciples and potential recruits.

  He sat in his chair for some time, aware of the odd stares from those attending the gathering. “You will excuse me for a moment,” he said, the sickly smile plastered on his thin red lips. “A matter of some urgency has arisen that I must attend to. Mr. Watts will finish conducting the meeting in my absence.”

  Rising from the table, Mr. Cox walked unsteadily toward the door and entered the narrow corridor leading to his personal office. The walls, floors and ceiling had been reinforced with twice the concrete and steel used in the main bunker complex.

  He fell into a couch in the corner of the room, clutching his head in agony. The offending energy tendril would be difficult to locate since he maintained hundreds of thousands of active connections at any given moment. The task was akin to locating a single strand in a complex fiber optics bundle.

  Perhaps more unsettling was the prospect of a rogue element in a plan that unfolded over decades without incident. The presence of an unexpected event in the Network was more unsettling than the pain in his throbbing temporal lobes.

  Mr. Cox forced himself into deep concentration, peeling away layer upon layer of connections to the multitude of seedy lawyers, dishonest politicians, drug dealers, crooked bankers and other wretched souls he had corrupted. Fortunately, the offending tendril was not as hard to isolate as he had originally feared. It existed at a higher, lighter frequency and left contrails that stood in stark contrast to Cox’ own dark, pulsating membrane of omniscience.

  He followed the twisting pathw
ay through several layers of sickening humanity. From petty thieves to mass murderers, they all had forsaken their salvation and pledged allegiance to the Network.

  The strand he wanted narrowed and finally terminated in a most unexpected place. Maybel Downey was one of an infinite number of forgettable suicides who turned down his offer and decided to finish what they started. How could such an insignificant soul emit such pristine white energy?

  Mr. Cox moved slowly through the small apartment while continuing to trace the source of the disruption. The flow grew stronger and more offensive as he approached the bedroom. Upon entering, the Benefactor recoiled at the sight of the two of them together. Maybel Downey held hands with a stranger who was pressed up against her. The enraged pressure Mr. Cox exerted on them nearly merged their separate entities in one bulbous mound of quivering flesh. There was no doubt the person or entity with Downey was the source of the contagion. He was completely bathed in the bright, white energy that corrupted the Network’s membrane. Yet, there was something else. Another presence perhaps? It seemed innocuous and faded as quickly as it appeared.

  Who are you? Cox projected heavy thoughts laden with contempt. The blast instantly decoupled the pair, and they were repelled backward over infinite space and time. Cox ignored the woman and moved directly toward the man. I said, who are you?

  Returning across an unknown volume of emptiness, Zach faced his assailant. I—know you from somewhere… His head tilted slightly as he frowned.

  Mr. Cox also seemed perplexed. Yes, from somewhere. I remember you, too. Who are you? Why have you come here to see this woman? Why can’t I… He sent the most potent probe he could muster, but the man’s mind had been wiped clean, and there was nothing there to read. Almost like trying to grab onto an oblong piece of ice.

  Zach regarded the threatening figure with apprehension. I don’t want to answer any questions. I think it is better that Maybel and I leave this place and return to reality.

  Mr. Cox pulled his lips back into a ragged sneer. Neither of you will leave this place. You’re presence burdens me, and you must pay for your insolence.

  The visible light shrunk into a single fading glimmer, and it seemed like something almost erased it away. Zach plunged into a blackness thick with frightening horrors. He grabbed his head while Cox filled the space within the vision, growing larger and more menacing as Zach continued to shrink into insignificance.

  Grimacing with every new intrusion, his mind pushed hard against the invasion from Mr. Cox. The pain grew even more intense as Zach concentrated on negating the effects of the Benefactor’s projection of pain and fear. He tried to place a shield around his mind while deflecting and absorbing the powerful energy that coursed over him. The task was nearly impossible considering the enormous power he faced.

  The remaining pinpoint of light pierced the pitch-blackness. Whether the strength of his antagonist waned, or the extraordinary expenditure of energy drained him, Zach was briefly able to separate his thoughts from Mr. Cox. He used that fleeting moment to exit the vision and return to the physical reality of Maybel Downey’s apartment.

  Soaked with sweat, Zach collapsed to the floor while gasping for breath. He clawed at the air and grunted, his throat dry and eyes burning. After a few moments, his thoughts regained some semblance of cognizance, and he watched in amusement as Jarad Anston pointed and shook his head repeatedly. Anston’s mouth fluttered open and closed, and the whites of his eyes were large and filled with anguish.

  Zach followed his friend’s pointed finger as his awareness returned, and he realized he was still in physical contact with Mabel Downey’s body. He pulled away and raised his eyes to her face. The disquieting sight caused him to recoil and gasp.

  “Oh my God!” Downey stood rigidly before him, her arms extended in a classic crucifix pose. Blood streamed from her open bodily orifices, especially heavy through her eyes, nose and ears. Her face looked scorched as though someone had put an acetylene torch to it. After several seconds, she collapsed to the floor in a heap of seared flesh.

  Zach leapt from his chair and ran for the door while Jarad Anston remained frozen in place, his mouth gaping open at the sight.

  Zach had never been more afraid in his life.

  ***

  Alan punched the off button on the cell phone and laid it down, reaching for a dirty napkin. He wiped an unidentifiable sticky substance off the screen and licked the residue from his fingers. Alan was back in New York and his workload was oppressive.

  He punched several keyboard strokes and adjusted the web cam above his computer monitor. A short series of flashes cleared away to reveal the image of a suit-clad man in his 50s, who looked like a banker.

  “Mr. Chairman, it’s a pleasure,” said Alan as he reached for a candy bar, undoing the wrapping and pushing the chocolate wedges into his mouth.

  “What can I do for you, Alan?”

  “Well, you’ve been doing a pretty fair job so far—but.”

  “But what, Alan? I’ve done everything you’ve asked. We’ve put the economy on a one way road to hell.”

  “It’s not enough, Chairman Rossman. When the Benefactor promised you an appointment to the Federal Reserve, he made sure you understood the expectations he had.”

  “And I’ve fulfilled them all,” replied Rossman, his voice rising. “We printed so much money we’ve turned the United States into a banana republic. You see what’s happening, we’re imploding. Yesterday, the rating agencies downgraded us to double B. That’s never happened before in the history of the country. You have to know that will eventually lead us into a horrible depression.”

  “And yet, Mr. Rossman, the economy has not collapsed. There are some who are even talking about stabilization and growth. You’re not doing enough.”

  “I’ve done everything that was asked…”

  “I said not enough. Even today, I had to help you out by moving 20 billion from treasury into private accounts. I siphon money in undetectable ways and take chances to cover for your incompetence.” Alan picked at his face while finishing his candy bar. “I’m not messing with you anymore. If you don’t get your shit together and get this economy into a depression that would make the 1930s blush, there’s gonna be trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble, Alan? Don’t threaten me…”

  “Maybe you better call your wife. You don’t think I know about the money she’s been transferring from your primary account into the offshore accounts? You think you can do that and I won’t find out, Mr. Rossman?”

  “I—we were just trying to avoid paying taxes.”

  “Oh, of course. Maybe the authorities would be interested in learning how you got the funds in the first place. Siphoning money from a Mexican drug operation and using your brother in a money-laundering scheme. Did you know he was arrested?

  “My brother? He wasn’t involved in anything. You encouraged me to take that money. You—you framed my brother.”

  “Framed him? Arnie, I’m insulted. Wasn’t he a little unstable too? All those antidepressants didn’t help in the end when he used a .45 to blow his fuckin’ head off this morning.”

  “Whaa? Stephen—my brother? He can’t… he can’t be dead. You better not have—I’ll kill you, Ziminski!”

  Alan grabbed a dirty glass and poured himself a vodka.

  “Alan, are you still there? Alan…Alan!”

  “I’m still here, Mr. Chairman.”

  “I’ll kill you, Alan—do you hear me? What did you do to him?”

  “Actually it was pretty simple. We sent a Treasury Department agent to talk to him. We showed him the proof we had of your illegal activities and gave him a choice. He could turn himself in and both of you would serve very long prison sentences. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Well, at least you know your brother loved you. He took option two. Put a bullet in his head to save your sorry ass. That’s loyalty.”

  “I’ll kill you Alan… I swear I’ll kill you…”

>   Alan sat up in his chair and focused on the screen. His voice grew very quiet. “Listen you piece of shit, you’ll do nothing except what we tell you. Mr. Cox found you in a little cubicle at some insignificant hedge fund with a gun pointed at your own head. He can damn well send you back. You have the nerve to defy me, defy the Benefactor who gave you so much? I’m going to send you a set of explicit instructions via secured email, and if I don’t see them carried out to the letter at Thursday’s FOMC meeting, the next gunshot you hear will be the bullet in your daughter’s brain. Do you understand me, Rossman?”

  There was an almost inaudible, “Yes.”

  “Then call the local police and get the mess at your brother’s house cleaned up so you won’t be distracted. Then get back to work. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  Alan tossed the phone aside, smiled, and drank the rest of his vodka.

  Chapter Ten

  They turned onto I-40 and made their way east toward I-25 in New Mexico. Throughout the arduous journey from Kazakhstan aboard the Iraqi oil freighter, their sense of purpose was never in question. The routes they took were carefully coordinated, and potential obstacles had been systematically removed with the help of select Network agents in the Border Patrol or Federales.

  When the terrorists reached Tucson, they met up with other members of the Network in a south side warehouse where an obscure basement hid the additional components they needed to transport. Money exchanged hands, vehicles were swapped, and they began the next leg of the journey to Albuquerque.

  Instructed to hate since an early age, contempt for the secular world was burned into their souls. For years, and through countless acts of terror, they had been praised and rewarded. When the Network emerged offering unimagined wealth and riches, the reputation of the Benefactor grew to almost mythic proportions. Volunteers flocked to participate in the final acts that would precede the Revelation of Truth. Burikhan, Kabanbai, Temir and Shokan felt privileged to answer the call.