by James Sperl
Travis looked around: no one was within a hundred yards of him. He could see folks come and go out of the restroom, and he felt a surge of stalker’s delight to know that he sat in the shadows just out of eyesight, having just committed the start of murder. The start, he noted, because the man wasn’t dead yet.
Wrenching the knife free, Travis proceeded to drive it into the side of the man’s head. He used his palm as a hammer and whacked the end of the handle until the blade wouldn’t go any further.
The man flopped and groped, as Travis ground the blade into his skull. His eyes filled with blood, and through it all, he remained silent until his arms fell limply into the dirt and didn’t move again.
Travis stood and picked up the man’s feet. He needed to move the body. Quickly. It would be just his luck to stumble across someone out here, as he or she cut across the field toward the “important” meeting out of fear of missing it. What would they think if they came face to face with him, knife in hand, as he stood over a dead body?
Pulling back the sheeting that covered one of the groups of polyurethane rolls, Travis created a space in the center then dragged the man into it, so the rolls surrounded them on all sides. Before he left, he withdrew his knife from the man’s head. Then he plunged it into his chest. The man didn’t budge. The third time's the charm.
Wiping the blade off on the man’s shirt, Travis stood and sheathed it inside his jacket. He covered the rolls back up and surveyed his surroundings. Though he saw no one in the immediate area, things had quieted considerably. The booming drone from the overcrowded stands had reduced to a low-grade murmur.
The meeting was about to begin.
Travis supposed he should hear what the mayor had to say. Who knows? Maybe he’ll mention something that could be of benefit. Travis wasn’t hurting for business, but he could always use more customers. And fear had the marvelous effect of creating new ones.
He started back when he happened to glance at his hands. Even in the darkness, he could see that blood coated them. He should probably wash up before joining the rest of Pastora for the community circle jerk.
Good thing he was near the restrooms.
CHAPTER 12
Clarissa was still shaking when she returned to her seat, but her friends didn't notice: Rachel was too preoccupied with what was happening on the football field, and Valentina only acknowledged her return with a distracted, “What took you so long?”
Just as well. Clarissa didn’t want to talk about Travis.
Voices rose from the crowd as an assembly of police officers crossed the football field en masse toward the stage. Walking among them was the town’s mayor, Eric Trebuchet.
Clarissa recognized him immediately, though his casual dress threw her off. She saw him from time to time at Aunt Mae’s, and when she did it was usually when he was on the clock. He and his coterie of assistants and staff would often saunter in around lunchtime and discuss city matters over cheesesteaks and Caesar salads, though there had been the rare occasion when he had come in alone. His graying hair looked especially so in the artificial light, and though he tried to put on a good game face as he stepped up to the podium, it was clear that Mayor Trebuchet was troubled.
He adjusted the microphone then tapped it lightly, his eyes scanning the crowd for verification that it worked. Once he confirmed that it was, he folded his hands over the podium.
“Good evening, Pastora,” he said, his voice resonant in the open night air. “I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight. I know this meeting was assembled in the eleventh hour, but I’m pleased to see so many of you here.”
Trebuchet paused as if waiting for a response from the crowd. When none came, he continued.
“A lot has happened over the past few days. A lot that has put not only Pastora on alert, but also the entire world. What we’re witnessing is unprecedented. In the annals of recorded history, nothing even remotely compares to what has occurred. It is historic. But it’s also frightening.” Soft murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. “While we may not understand exactly what’s happening, we here in Pastora benefit from something larger cities simply don’t have, and that’s a sense of community. When you know your neighbor, when you know your store owner, or restaurateur, or even your teacher, you’re more inclined—and I might go so far as to say obligated—to help that person in a time of need. If there were ever a time for the citizens of Pastora to band together, it's now.”
Scattered applause broke out in pockets, but the mayor silenced them before they got started.
“Now, I’m not going to stand up here and cheerlead you into forgetting about what’s going on in the world. I’ll save those talks for reelection.” The mayor smiled and earned a much-needed burst of laughter from the crowd. He took hold of the podium. “We’re here tonight for a different purpose, and I promise that I will share with you everything we have learned over the past couple of days. So let me get right to it.”
Clarissa wrung her hands and couldn’t decide if her jitters had to do with the lingering effects from her run-in with Travis or if she was just anxious to hear what the mayor had to say.
“We’re with you, mayor!” someone called out near the front.
“And I’m with you,” he responded. “But I’d like to ask all of you to refrain from commenting and asking questions until I’ve finished presenting our report.”
The crowd silenced. Somewhere across the field, a baby cried.
“Thank you.” The mayor inhaled then began. “As you all know, four days ago, the world experienced a sound heard simultaneously in every populated region on earth. Since that day, people have been reported missing in record numbers across the globe. So far, no one knows what has become of those unfortunate individuals, but world governments and the scientific community have reached a unanimous consensus regarding their disappearances—it is believed they are a direct result of the sound.”
The crowd grumbled but quieted moments later when the mayor raised a hand.
“As of yet, no one has been able to identify the sound or its origin, but the data surrounding those who have gone missing is irrefutable. The number of missing person cases swelled within hours after the sound event. What’s more, the cases continue to pile up. People are reporting missing persons in record numbers with nothing to suggest a slow down.”
The crowd grumbled again, someone yelling, “Does that mean more people will vanish?”
The mayor tried to hide his irritation with the breach in decorum, but his expression fell short. He raised his arms high as the crowd reacted nervously. “Please everyone!” But the crowd wouldn’t be quelled. Voices rose and fell excitedly, tempers beginning to flare.
Clarissa, along with a smattering of others, shushed the crowd. She thought it was strange how people reacted the way they did, especially since the mayor had only recapped what everyone already knew.
“Please!” the mayor called out again. Police fanned out towards the perimeter of the crowd. Clarissa noticed several had placed their hands on the end of their nightsticks, while at least one had unsnapped the holster to his firearm.
The mayor continued despite the fact that the crowd hadn't quieted.
“While it’s true the disappearances continue, and no one knows where the missing have gone, we have learned some valuable information that we believe could prevent or lessen any further ones.” That did the trick. The field-wide fracas dwindled. The mayor waited for a three count before continuing. “What I’m about to tell you has been confirmed in many cities throughout the United States, as well as having been verified in countries around the world.”
Clarissa had never experienced such immeasurable silence in a crowd of this size. Someone always either talked or laughed or made some noise to spite the quiet, but as she clutched Valentina’s hand and waited for the mayor, she thought a person on the far side of the field could whisper, and she would hear it.
“In the past three days and as of this evening,” t
he mayor began, “forty-two missing person reports have been filed with the Pastora police.”
Valentina and Clarissa looked at each other suddenly.
“Forty-two?” Valentina said. “That’s nine more than this morning.”
Clarissa had been thinking all day about the thirty-three people Joe said had gone missing. And now there were nine more. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. Maxwell had been one of them. How many others did she know?
Rachel leaned forward to share a look of shock and incredulity with Valentina and Clarissa before she hunched over her knees to fix her eyes on the mayor. She slipped her pinky finger between her teeth and chewed her nail.
“Forty-two,” the mayor repeated. “But in ninety-three percent of those cases—which is to say thirty-nine out of those forty-two—the missing individuals appear to have vanished when they were alone.”
The crowd erupted. They fired so many questions at the mayor, Clarissa couldn't understand a single one. She struggled to hear him over the din, as he pleaded for quiet. Valentina unconsciously dug her lengthy nails into Clarissa’s palm.
“Val!” she said, freeing her hand.
But Valentina was oblivious—she was too focused on the crowd and its rising panic.
Rachel leaned past Valentina to speak to Clarissa. “They disappeared when they were alone?” she exclaimed. “Holy shit, Clar.”
Holy shit was right. If even a fraction of what the mayor said was correct, it was enough to scare Clarissa senseless. She lived alone. Valentina lived alone. Rachel lived alone. According to what the mayor was saying, each of them was more susceptible to disappearing without a trace than those with families or roommates. Clarissa could feel the blood leave her face and her skin get cold.
“Everyone!” the mayor hollered. “Please, quiet down!”
The shouting and cries of panic lessened, but a man with a particularly deep voice managed to belt out the one question Clarissa felt everyone within earshot of the mayor was probably thinking.
“So what are we supposed to do?” the man yelled. “Never be alone?”
Waves of frightened agreement rippled through the crowd.
“Your question is a valid one,” the mayor said, singling out the man with a loose fist. “And one I intend to answer.” Again, the crowd fizzled into silence. “Now, that ninety-three percent finding I just told you about is significant. Not only is that what we’re seeing here, but similar percentages have been reported in cities nationwide.” The mayor consulted a paper he had carried to the stage with him. “Chicago, ninety-one percent of the missing were likely alone when it happened. Milwaukee, ninety-four percent of the missing were likely alone. Boise, ninety-one-point-five. Phoenix, ninety-three. Jacksonville, ninety-four. Austin, ninety. Philadelphia, ninety-four, and the list goes on.”
People started to bark out questions, but the mayor steamrolled over them.
“Now what does this mean?” he continued, holding up the paper. “While there is no quantifiable margin of error associated with these numbers, and what’s reported is merely preliminary findings, the data suggests a commonality. No one can ever know if a person was or wasn’t alone at the time of their disappearance, but based on the reports and the testimony of the loved ones who filed them, the likelihood that they were is highly probable.”
More outbursts followed, the crowd becoming unruly once again. Clarissa did not envy the mayor’s duties. She tried to imagine how she would have shared such out-of-this-world news with a packed house full of scared people, but she couldn’t conceive of a gentle way to ease folks into this sort of truth. Things just had to be said and the consequences dealt with. The mayor was handling things as best as he could, and for that she admired him.
People began to stand and shout at the stage, prompting the police to form a human wall and move closer to the crowd.
Valentina’s knee bounced like a jackhammer. Clarissa thought her friend was doing all she could to keep it together. Rachel noticed her anxiety as well and placed a hand on Valentina’s leg, offering a smile to both her and Clarissa. It was an it’s-okay-we’ll-get-through-this sort of grin, and though it was well intentioned, Clarissa couldn’t detect a shred of truth in Rachel’s upturned lips.
“Look!” the mayor shouted, not waiting for the crowd to quiet. “I know this is frightening! I know this is scary! I’m scared too!” The shouting lowered to tolerable levels, the mayor quieting along with them. “But we can’t melt down. We can’t turn on one another. We have to remain calm and approach this situation as rationally as we can. So, I ask you, please take your seats and allow us to continue.”
It was a good try. For a moment, Clarissa thought the crowd might ebb into the mayor’s confidence, but no sooner did they quiet than voices began to rise again. The mayor was losing control. People were entirely too scared to think beyond their fear, which explained why Joe Arlbach decided to step forward and usurp the microphone. Just the sight of him dropped the decibel level on the field several notches.
“Folks, listen,” he began, “Mayor Trebuchet has some important information to tell you all, and he can’t very well do it if he has to scream over the top of everyone. Now I know this is a tense time, and, like the mayor said, people are scared. But you owe it to your neighbors, to your friends, to your family, to yourselves, to hear him out. Now I more than anyone don’t want to see things get ugly, but if it becomes necessary for Pastora’s finest to pull some of you out of here so that the mayor can continue then I promise you, I will. But let’s not let it get to that, all right? Mayor?”
Joe stepped back and was greeted by scattered applause. The mayor retook his place at the podium.
“Thanks, Joe,” the mayor said. “I share the Chief of Police’s concern for order. When we lose our capacity to approach things rationally, we empower fear. Let’s not do that. Now,” he said, stepping back from the microphone to clear his throat, “everything I just told you regarding the missing person’s data is theoretical. But if there’s a chance that even a little of what we theorize is true, then we need to be proactive. So, for the time being, I encourage anyone who can live with family or friends to do so. The more people under one roof, the better. Sleep in open rooms along with others. Travel together. Eat together. In essence, become more communal. The evidence suggests there’s strength in numbers, so I advise those of you who can to take advantage of your friends and family.”
Clarissa looked at Valentina and Rachel. “I’m not even going to dignify this with a discussion. You’re all staying with me.”
Rachel reached across Valentina’s lap to grab Clarissa’s hand; Valentina placed hers there as well. At that moment, Clarissa felt the strongest bond of friendship she had ever known, and she thanked her lucky stars she was fortunate enough to have these women in her life, these women who would otherwise be sisters were it not for the inconvenient business of genetics.
Someone shouted a question at the mayor from the farthest end zone. Clarissa thought it was the most relevant one yet.
“What about those of us that don’t got no family?” a woman cried.
The mayor turned in the direction of the voice. “I’m glad you asked that. Earlier today, I spoke with the superintendent of Pastora’s city school system and personally contacted the principal for every school in our jurisdiction. All have unanimously agreed to my request. Beginning tomorrow morning, every school in Pastora with a gymnasium will open its doors to the public. Those in need of assistance may sleep and reside there until this crisis is over. I ask that only those with no other options seek shelter at the schools. Space will be limited, so please, treat this as a last resort. Regardless of who you are or the circumstances that brought you there, you will be welcomed openly.”
Heads bobbed agreeably throughout the crowd. Hundreds if not thousands of whispered conversations accompanied them.
“I have already called upon our local law enforcement and health officials, but we can never have too many volunteers. If you fe
el you can be of assistance in this time of precaution, I urge you to find a member of my staff after the meeting or call my office. I want to say to those of you who choose to help your fellow citizens, right here, right now, thank you for your selflessness.”
The mayor removed the microphone from its holder and, for the first time since he started speaking, turned around to face the other side of the field.
“I realize this is a frightening time. There is no disputing it. But it seems we have two choices as a society. We can give into fear and panic, and let chaos determine our path, or we can submit to logic and reason and chart our own course toward overcoming this troubling time.” The mayor turned in a slow circle, deliberately sweeping the crowd from end zone to end zone. He stopped when he faced Clarissa’s side of the field. “I choose the latter. May you all have a good night—a safe night—and peace be to Pastora. See you tomorrow.”
The crowd applauded but not before they repeated the mayor’s final words back to him in a monotone, voice-heavy drone.
“See you tomorrow,” they intoned in sloppy unison.
Clarissa caught herself saying it too, the chant-like recitation holding an almost spiritual quality, as she uttered it alongside thousands of her fellow Pastorans.
The applause quickly died, as Mayor Trebuchet exited the stage and was engulfed by his security detail. Folks climbed down from their seats and exited the football field in a rumble of overlapping conversations.
Clarissa was ready to go home, but she was in no hurry to get caught up in the traffic that was sure to follow. In minutes, hundreds of cars would jockey for road space as they tried to leave; she saw no reason to fight through throngs of people to become one of them. Instead, she decided she wanted to use the opportunity to talk to Valentina and Rachel about the radical shift their lives would undergo now that they would all be living together. But Rachel derailed her plan.