314 wt-1

by A. R. Wise

  “You know just about as much as I do,” said Paul. He didn’t think it would be appropriate for him to elaborate on any of the other details Alma had shared with him. “Alma doesn’t like to talk about it much.”

  “So what do you think happened? Not with Alma’s brother, but with the town in general. Why did everyone just, poof, disappear?”

  Paul shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve heard it was government controlled, and that there was a massive drug cartel operating out of the town. Everyone got taken away and put into witness protection.”

  Stephen guffawed as if the theory was ludicrous. “Yeah, sure, an entire town gets taken away by the government? That’s crazy.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the least crazy of all the theories I’ve heard,” said Paul. “It’s easier for me to believe that than some of the other stuff people have said. Why? What do you think happened?”

  “That, my friend, is what I’m hoping to find out. I’m not leaving anything off the table. There was some weird shit going on in Widowsfield before everyone disappeared.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, there’s the whole drug cartel thing that you were talking about. There was a meth ring that used Widowsfield as a staging area, but then the government banned the sale of amphetamine except in small doses. That meant the drug dealers had to figure out a new way to make the meth in massive quantity. There’s a theory that one of the concoctions they mixed up caused a fire, and a toxic cloud was released in the town that caused everyone to go nuts.”

  “Huh, never heard that one before.”

  “It’s a lot more plausible than it sounds at first. The race to create new, stronger drugs has led to a lot of insane side effects. People aren’t content just smoking a little weed these days. They’re fucking around with some seriously messed up chemicals, and the theory is that the dealers in Widowsfield were trying to mix together meth and ecstasy, but ended up causing an explosion that sent a noxious gas through the town. And then there’s the military experiment theory.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a base just outside of Widowsfield that’s owned by a company called Cada E.I.B.”

  “What is it?” asked Paul, unsure he heard the name correctly.

  “Cada E.I.B. No one knows much about them, but they seem to be pretending to be a European Investment Bank. Or at least they were. Right after the event in Widowsfield, the entire facility shut down. No explanation, they just closed up shop and got the hell out of the area. Turns out, this same company was involved in brokering weapons deals between countries. They were setting up deals between the United States and places like Scotland, Greece, Romania, and all sorts of other places. It’s shady stuff. The theory is that they were testing out some biochemical weapon and accidentally released it.”

  Paul glanced at the abundance of equipment in the storage unit. “That sounds interesting and all, but I thought you were in this for the paranormal side of it.”

  “I am, but I also want to make sure to explore all options. I want to treat our viewers like they’re smart. If we can find real evidence of paranormal activity, then that’s awesome, but I’m also going to look for real world explanations for stuff too. I want the show to be smarter than the rest of them out there.”

  “So, this show is on the internet, right?” asked Paul. The amount of equipment in the storage locker seemed excessive for a small internet venture.

  Stephen looked coy, like a boy whose mischief had been uncovered. “Well, you want to know the truth? You’ve got to keep it on the down low, because no one’s supposed to know.”

  “Okay, sure.” Paul was an intensely private person, and thought it odd that Stephen was willing to trust him with any secret, let alone an important one. Stephen spoke as if Paul had been his friend for years.

  “We got optioned.” He beamed with pride and excitement.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Rachel and I were approached by a cable channel. I can’t tell you which one — they were real strict about that. They paid us to have first rights on any show we put together. That’s why I got all this stuff.”

  “Wow, that’s awesome. Congratulations,” said Paul.

  “It’s been a bit overwhelming, but we’re trying to make sure we do everything we can to make this pilot professional.”

  “And it’s just the two of you?” asked Paul. “I would think you’d have a whole crew going along. You know, for lighting and sound and cameras. You’re just going to try and do this by yourselves?”

  “No,” said Stephen and he pat Paul’s shoulder. “I’ve got you along for the ride.”

  “Oh, I see how it is,” said Paul. “You’re trying to bribe me with beer and barbeque. You’re a tricky one.”

  Stephen laughed as he closed the accordion, aluminum door of the storage room. “Honestly though, it’s not as hard as you might think. These days, with reality shows and everything, viewers have a really low expectation of quality. A lot of the shows on the air don’t bother hiring even half the staff that they used to. I’ve been in the news business for a while, and even the quality of our remote reports is better than most primetime shows. We actually take the time to set up lights and use proper mics. Most of the reality shows out there are a clusterfuck of amateur mistakes.”

  “I hate reality shows,” said Paul.

  “You’re in good company,” said Stephen. “They’re the bane of the industry at the moment. A hell of a lot of good people have lost jobs because the American public doesn’t seem to give a shit about quality anymore.” He scratched at his temple and shrugged. “I say that, but I’m just about to go out and try to film a show without a crew. I’m not usually that big of a hypocrite, I swear.”

  “And you’re planning on shoving all that stuff into a single car?” Paul pointed at the storage locker as Stephen was locking it.

  “I was going to rent a van. Speaking of which, I should probably call up the rental place.”

  “I’ve got a buddy with a van,” said Paul. “He’s not doing shit these days. I bet he’d be willing to drive us if you paid him whatever the cost of a rental would be. Then you could use him as an extra pair of hands for filming your show.”

  “You think he’d come along on such short notice?”

  Paul nodded sullenly. “Yeah, he’ll be happy to get out of town. He caught his old lady cheating on him and moved out. He was going to get a new place, but then he lost his job after he blew up at work.” Paul felt like he needed to assure Stephen that he wasn’t trying to invite a mental case on the trip. “He’s the most passive guy you’ve ever met, but the dude got pushed too far. He got sick of getting shit on at work, and combined with what he was going through at home, he just reached his wit’s end. Anyhow, I’m sure he’d be happy to come along.”

  Stephen seemed apprehensive at first, but then nodded. “Sure, man. If you vouch for the guy, I’d love to have someone else that could help with the show.”

  “I’ll give him a ring.” Paul got his cell phone out to call Jacker.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Broken Codes

  March 10th, 2012

  Alma followed Rachel down the street in the affluent neighborhood. The sun was already setting and she was shocked at how long they’d managed to spend shopping. Alma wasn’t the type of girl that normally spent more time at a store than it took to run in, get what she needed, and get out. It was something that Paul always said he loved about her, but Alma would be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed the day’s decadence.

  Rachel had taken her to various shops in the city that Alma had never heard of before, and they had lunch at an outdoor café that overlooked the shopping district. During their trip, three different people had approached Rachel, recognizing her from television, and told her that they loved her work. One even asked for an autograph, and Rachel complied although she looked embarrassed while doing it.

  “Did you have a good time?” Rachel was headed up to the steps to her apart
ment when she turned and smiled at Alma.

  “Are you kidding?” Alma held up two arms filled with bags. “This was amazing. I still feel guilty that you bought all of this for me.”

  “Don’t mention it. I was happy to do it. I felt like a complete bitch after what happened with your dad. I swear, I never in a million years thought he’d follow us back here to find you.”

  “Oh don’t worry about it,” said Alma. “He’s a nutjob.”

  “Still though, buying you a few nice things is the least I can do to apologize.” She paused at the door with her keys near the lock. “What do you think Paul’s going to say? Do you think he’ll like your new look?”

  “I don’t know. He’s never seen me looking like this. Heck, I’ve never seen myself looking like this.”

  “Well, you look great, Alma. Absolutely gorgeous.” Rachel saw the bashful way Alma turned her head, unwilling to accept the compliment. “I’m serious. You’re a gorgeous girl, and Paul will be lucky if you decide to take him back.”

  Alma and Rachel had spent a good part of the day chatting about Paul, and Alma’s history with him. Alma revealed a lot of things that she’d never told anyone, and she attributed her admissions to the fact that Rachel was a good listener. She was always quick with an opinion, but seemed genuinely interested to hear what was going on in Alma’s life. Rachel was a talented interviewer, and Alma enjoyed talking to her.

  “Thanks, but I haven’t made up my mind about Paul yet.”

  Rachel coyly smirked. “Yes you have. Don’t try to lie to me.”

  Alma blushed.

  “He’s a lucky guy,” said Rachel as she turned the key and opened the door.

  “There they are.” Alma heard Stephen’s voice from inside. “Do we have any money left?”

  “That depends on how much you spent on your ghost detecting crap,” said Rachel as she went in. “Where’s Paul?”

  “He’s out back with his friend,” said Stephen. “They’re loading up his friend’s van with the equipment. He was able to get us someone else to come along for the trip and help out.”

  “Oh,” said Rachel. “That’s helpful.” She set her bags down in the foyer and turned to present Alma. “So, what do you think?”

  Stephen whistled. “Hot damn, girl! Look at you.”

  Rachel spun her finger to instruct Alma to model her new look. Alma held her arms out to the side with the bags still looped around them and turned for Stephen to inspect her new black dress.

  “You look beautiful, Alma. Honestly.”

  “Thanks,” said Alma. “But you guys spent too much on me.”

  Stephen waved away her concern. “Think of it as a down payment on what I owe you for denting your car.”

  “Oh my God,” said Rachel. “I totally forgot about that. We’re paying for that,” she said as if scolding Stephen.

  “I will, I will,” said Stephen in defense. “Come on in and chill out. I’ve got burgers and brats on the grill, and Paul warned me that you were a vegetarian, so we got some of those veggie burgers too. And we picked up some beer that Paul said was your favorite,” he said and looked at Alma.

  “You guys are being too nice to us,” said Alma. “I feel like you’re buttering us up for something.”

  Stephen smiled and laughed, but Alma detected a slight bit of reservation in his response. “Well, I still have to get you to sign the wavers and stuff. Once you do that, I promise I’ll start being mean to you.”

  “Okay.” Alma put her bags down beside Rachel’s. “That sounds more like it. I’m not used to people being so nice all the time.”

  “Get Rachel to play Scrabble with you and you’ll see her mean side,” said Stephen.

  Alma raised her eyebrows and looked at Rachel. “Be careful, I’m a Scrabble freak.”

  Rachel stopped, straightened her posture, and glared at Alma as if about to yell at her for something. “Don’t screw with my emotions, Alma. Are you serious? Because I’m the biggest Scrabble nerd, like, ever. For real.”

  “Me too,” said Alma pleadingly, as if trying to convince Rachel that it was true.

  “What’s your favorite word that pisses other people off when you use it?” Rachel seemed to be testing Alma.

  She thought about it for a minute. “Xi. It’s a letter in the Greek alphabet that’s in the Scrabble dictionary.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened and she squeaked in pleasure. “I love you so much right now, Alma. I studied the Scrabble dictionary and came up with all sorts of little words that no one else knows. It pisses people off so much, but I’m always just like, ‘Go ahead and challenge me.’ They learn not to real quick.”

  “True,” said Stephen. “I won’t play with her anymore.”

  Rachel stepped toward Alma and took her hands. She had an oddly serious look on her face as she spoke. “Alma Harper, would you do me the honor of playing Scrabble with me tonight?”

  Alma laughed. “I’d love to, as long as you promise not to take back all the stuff you bought me after I beat you.”

  “Oh, those are big words, little girl,” said Rachel. “I haven’t lost a game of Scrabble in over a decade at least.”

  “Lord have mercy,” said Stephen. “It’s like the dork circle is finally complete. My wife found her soul mate. I guess me and the guys will just have to break out the Xbox or something.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Alma. “Which friend of Paul’s is coming along?”

  “A big guy,” said Stephen as he held his hand well above his head, “named Jacker.”

  “Oh, okay,” said Alma. She looked at Rachel and added, “You’ll like him. I only met him last night, but he’s a really nice guy.”

  “Jacker is a weird name,” said Rachel.

  “He’s into computers,” said Alma.

  “He’s a cool guy,” said Stephen. “I feel bad about what happened with his girlfriend.”

  “Why?” asked Alma. “What happened?”

  Stephen looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at Alma and Rachel. “I’ve said too much.” He made a zipper motion over his lips and tried to walk away.

  “No, no, no,” said Rachel. “You have to tell us now. What happened?”

  “Sorry, babe, I’m not one of your gossipy friends,” said Stephen. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him. It’s not my place to say.”

  “Oh fine, be like that,” said Rachel. “How long until food’s ready?”

  “It’s good to go. I was just waiting on you two.”

  There was a knock at the back of the apartment and then a door opened down the hall. Jacker leaned his head inside, uncertain if it was appropriate for him to just walk in. “Hello?”

  “Come on in,” said Stephen.

  Jacker and Paul came in through the door on the opposite side of the apartment. Jacker saw Alma first, and put his hand over his heart as he stumbled backward, emphasizing his surprise. “Holy shit, Alma. You clean up well.”

  Paul walked around his friend and was astonished by what he saw. He blinked his eyes and shook his head. “God damn, babe.”

  Alma felt her ears burn as she blushed. She ran her hands through her hair and asked, “Do you like it? It’s not too short, is it?”

  “Do I like it?” asked Paul. “Are you kidding? You look like a super model.”

  “Stop it.”

  “No, he’s right,” added Jacker. “You look,” he stopped in search of an appropriate descriptor, “stunning.”

  Paul walked past his friend and came to stand before Alma. He put his hand on the side of her face and then gazed up and down at her. He was at a loss for words and could only smile. Alma never felt prettier in her entire life.

  “You must be Jacker. I’m Rachel.” The strawberry blonde reporter was quick to introduce herself.

  “Hello,” said Jacker as he shook her hand.

  “Tell me what happened with your girlfriend,” said Rachel, unfettered by common restraint.

  “Rachel, Jesus,” said Stephen,
embarrassed.

  “Sorry,” said Rachel. “I don’t like to beat around the bush with people. Stephen said you had something bad happen with your girlfriend, and I want to know what happened.”

  “Normal people try to get to know someone before grilling them with questions like that,” said Stephen as he headed for the refrigerator to get a beer.

  Rachel shrugged and walked hand in hand with Jacker toward the kitchen table. “Well, I’m not a normal girl. Here, sit down and talk to me.”

  Jacker obeyed, although he looked uncomfortable.

  “Now tell me what happened. I know a lot of pretty girls who are suckers for a guy with a broken heart. Trust me.”

  Alma and Paul went to sit at the table with them as Stephen got everyone something to drink. The dining room, living room, and kitchen were all connected, but there was a thin, paper partition adorned with Japanese symbols that broke up the area. Paul tried, and nearly failed, to not knock over the decorative wall as he edged his way around the table.

  Jacker splayed his hands out over the dark wood and tapped his fingers as he sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I’m as much to blame as she was.”

  Paul grimaced and shook his head. “Bullshit.” He accepted a glass of beer from Stephen and Alma assumed that Paul had already taught the host how to properly pour their favorite beer because it had the perfect amount of head on it. “Don’t blame yourself for it. That bitch cheated on you, plain and simple.”

  “Is that true?” asked Rachel.

  Jacker nodded and then crossed his arms. “Yeah.” He was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, but Rachel either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She was a consummate journalist, more interested in the details of the story than the ramifications of discussing it.