“It was him!” she bawled. “It was him!”
“It was who, Emma?” Danny hoped desperately that she would calm down.
“The boy in the street, the one hit by the car. It was him!”
Danny Cole couldn’t fathom the teenager being able to get up and attack Emma like that, so he didn’t think about it. Still, the flayed skin…
“Just calm down, Emma.” Danny stroked her hair. He hadn’t noticed, but at some point, she had lost her hair-band. “Everything is going to be all right. We’re safe now. We’ll be fine.”
There he was, lying again.
7:
Alec
Alec looked up at the cases of water. He wondered why a grocery store would put something so heavy so high up. Even someone with a normal reach would have problems getting some down. He looked up and down the aisle he was in, but the only other person was a great big, fat woman trying to decide which kind of pop she wanted. She was also trying very hard not to look at Alec.
He turned to the German shepherd at his side instead. “Rifle, go get me some help, would you?”
He unhooked the dog’s leash and Rifle trotted off down the aisle. A moment later, he came trotting back with Anton, the stock boy, in tow.
“Hey, Mr. McGregor.” Anton always sounded so nervous around Alec. “What can I do to help you today?”
“You can stop stacking the heavy stuff up so high.” For one thing. “I need a case of water.”
“You got it.” Anton hurried over to help.
Alec wheeled his chair back out of the way. Rifle returned to his side and sat with a huff. The dog was just as annoyed with this as Alec was. Anton struggled a bit but managed to get a case down without the whole pile falling on his head. He handed it over to Alec.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. McGregor?” Anton asked as Alec put the water on his shopping cart.
“Not unless you’ve stored another heavy item up too high.” With that, Alec had dismissed him. Alec liked the fear he saw in Anton, the nervousness. He knew Anton was a punk. Alec had once stopped him and his friends from beating up a younger kid. Since then, he was a lot more cautious and helpful.
“Come on, Rifle, we’ve still got a few more things to find.” He hooked the dog’s harness and leash back up to the front of the cart. While Alec rolled down the aisle, looking for the next item on his list, Rifle pulled the cart along behind him. Rifle was a big dog, larger than most German Shepherds. He came in handy in a lot of situations. When they reached the end of the aisle, Alec let Rifle pass him with the cart so that he could help steer it from behind. Although his companion was good at pulling things in straight lines, corners were not his strong suit. The two of them then headed down the next aisle. Alec picked out which pastas he wanted.
“Hey there, wheely boy,” a voice sounded right behind him.
Alec answered without a reaction and without turning. “Hey, Michelle.”
“You didn’t even flinch,” Michelle sighed, feigning sadness. “Last I checked, pasta wasn’t a reflective surface.”
“I saw you come into the store awhile ago and figured you would try again.” Alec shrugged a shoulder and turned.
“You still should have been surprised.” Michelle bent over and pet Rifle, who thumped his tail appreciatively. “Hello boy, how are you doing?” She talked to him in baby talk, just as everyone else did. Everyone but Alec.
Alec put his pasta into the cart. “I was able to move my ankle a fraction this morning.”
Michelle stood back upright. “Really?”
Alec started down the aisle again. “Only a fraction, but it moved.”
Michelle started pushing the cart to give Rifle a break. “Most people wouldn’t even have full control of their toes yet.”
“Only the big toe,” Alec corrected her with a grin. “The others still come and go.”
Michelle was his physiotherapist. He saw her three times a week to work on his legs. They hoped that he would regain full movement, but it was a slow and mostly painful process. Movement started in his toes and seemed to be working its way up.
“Just don’t push yourself too hard,” Michelle warned him.
“And disappoint my favourite lady?” Alec grinned at her again. It always worked on Michelle.
She was somewhat overweight, had lots of acne scars that her makeup couldn’t quite cover, and one of her eyeteeth was completely sideways. Nevertheless, she was Alec’s physiotherapist, so he felt compelled to be nice to her. You got better help when you were nice.
Michelle smiled shyly, flushing slightly like a schoolgirl half her age. “Well, I better be going. You look like you’re almost done here and I still have my own things to pick up. I’ll see you at your next appointment.”
“It’s a date.”
Michelle giggled to herself as she walked away.
Alec sighed, his grin falling away instantly, and continued to do his shopping. Michelle was a good person, but he just couldn’t get past that crooked tooth. It was a flaw of his he supposed, having high superficial standards. Although some more exercise, some better makeup, and a dentist could make Michelle a beautiful woman. Of course, he had no idea what her health plan was like, or her income. Although he’d thought that physiotherapists would keep themselves in great shape. Apparently not. When he had first heard his therapist was a female, he managed to get excited, but it turned into a letdown.
Alec found the last item on his list and headed for the checkout. Although there were shorter lines, he picked the one with the young and cute blonde on the cash register. He waited his turn until he could start placing his items on the conveyor belt.
“Cute dog,” the cashier said around the gum she was chewing. Rifle was an excellent wingman, or rather, dog. A lot of conversations had been started because of his presence.
“Don’t tell him that. His ego is big enough already.” Alec gave her a grin. He was told his grin was rather charming, and he had seen quite a bit of evidence to back that up.
The girl grinned back, flashing her teeth but still chewing her gum. None of her teeth was crooked. They were small and neat and fit with her face.
“And what about your own ego?” The girl began ringing through his items. “Is it big or small?”
“Big enough.” Alec sensed a slight innuendo but he could’ve been wrong. Ever since he’d been confined to the wheelchair, it was hard to tell. Before, he had been a total heartthrob with his close-cropped, dark red hair, square jaw, muscular build, vivid green eyes, and just a hint of a Scottish accent. Now, like Alec’s reaction to Michelle’s tooth, girls usually couldn’t see past the chair.
“Do you need any bags?” the cashier asked.
“No, I have my own.” Alec hated that plastic bags cost money. Not because he had to pay if he forgot his own, but because he hated the routine of that question. He wasn’t even sure why it irked him, just that it did.
“And how will you be paying?”
Another routine question. It looked like his banter with the cashier was over.
“I’ll be paying cash.” Alec found his wallet and pulled out the required amount. He paid cash whenever he could. The bank had screwed up his accounts too many times in the past for him to trust it completely.
Once he had paid and gotten his change, he went to the end of the checkout conveyor belt and started packing his things into his bags. A young boy with a face full of pimples walked over to him.
“Can I help you with your bags today, sir?” the boy inquired.
“I got it, thanks. That’s why I have my dog.” Alec had noticed that once he was put into a wheelchair, people were a lot more accommodating than they used to be. He didn’t need them though. He was trained to handle situations they couldn’t even dream of.
“Oh.” The boy just seemed to notice Rifle standing at his feet looking up at him. “Okay then.” The boy turned to the cashier. “Hey, Glow.”
The cashier gave the boy a smile and a wave. An actual smile as o
pposed to the grin Alec got earlier. He thought she actually liked the pimple-faced boy. And Glow? Was that seriously her name or just some nickname? The interaction made him feel old. He didn’t like feeling old. He was only forty for Christ’s sake.
He finished packing his items into the bags and the bags into the cart and headed out of the grocery store. He entered the parking lot and rolled toward his car. Until he saw it peel out of its space.
“Hey!” Alec yelled and started wheeling faster toward it. “Hey, that’s my car!”
The car shot off across the parking lot. It reached the curb and bounced up onto it, driving over the grass and onto the road on the other side. Alec didn’t even see the driver.
“Fuck!” Alec punched his cart as Rifle pulled it up next to him.
Rifle looked over at him and whined, lowering his head and looking pathetic.
“I’m sorry boy, I’m not mad at you.” Alec gave the dog’s head a one-armed hug and scratched him behind the ears. “Someone just stole our wheels. This has not been my day so far.”
Alec almost never locked the doors to his car. It was a crappy car that had so many parts replaced and remodelled, even Alec didn’t know what it used to be. And there was definitely nothing worth stealing inside. Not to mention, most people wouldn’t be able to drive it. He had customised it himself to accommodate his chair, and it had hand-controlled accelerator and brakes. It wasn’t something you could just joyride in.
Alec got out his cell phone and called 911.
“This is 911, please state your emergency,” an operator picked up.
“My car just got stolen out of the parking lot outside Freeman’s Grocery at July and Sparrow Roads.” Alec made sure to stay calm.
“Sir, we are very busy at the moment with more serious emergencies. Please call again later and we will take your complaint then.”
“What? Someone stole my car!” His calm slipped away. “How am I supposed to get home with all these groceries?” But it was too late; she had hung up. Alec waited about a minute and called back. Technically, it was later.
A different voice came on the line. “Are you calling to report an attack or a medical emergency?”
“What? No, my car was stolen.”
“We are too busy to take your complaint at this time.” He also hung up.
This time Alec didn’t get angry. He knew well enough that something must have been going on. “Come on, Rifle. We’re going back inside.”
He led his partner back toward the grocery store. He tried calling his brother-in-law as he went, but no one picked up at either the house, the garage, or his cell. He left messages at all three locations. He had no one else to call.
Back inside the store, he managed to get someone to hunt down Freeman, who just happened to be the manager on duty that day. The regal black man, in a suit too fancy for a grocery store, came and found him.
“Mr. McGregor.” Freeman stuck out his hand to be shaken.
Alec shook it. “Hey, Freeman. I need you to do me a favour.”
“What kind of favour?” Freeman looked sceptical.
“Well, my car just got stolen so I have no way of getting all this food and crap home. I was wondering if you could put it aside somewhere and keep it until I can get a hold of my brother.” Alec often referred to his brother-in-law as his brother. They were very close, especially after his younger sister had died. Toward the end of her pregnancy, there had been severe complications.
“How much do you have that needs to be kept cold or frozen?” Freeman asked, checking out his cart.
“Two bags of cold stuff, one bag of frozen.” Alec pointed out the bags.
“Hmm. I think I could find room.” Freeman turned away and started toward his office.
Alec knew to follow. He had had a few run-ins with Freeman from the first time Rifle entered the store. Although he was very well trained and kept exceptionally clean, people complained, and Mr. Freeman came out to deal with it personally. The second time had been when Alec got into an argument with another man. He had seen the man hit his wife, so he hit him. Nearly busted his knee to the point of hospitalisation but, thankfully, the guy didn’t press charges. He didn’t want the spousal abuse coming out. Although their meetings were often on bad terms, Freeman and Alec had formed a somewhat tense friendship. Alec thought it might have had something to do with how he had gotten Anton to fall in line. He was a much better employee because of it and somehow Freeman found out Alec was the cause of that. He was a rather perceptive man like that.
Alec followed Freeman into his office. Rifle stopped at the doorway and sat, as was the usual custom, but this time, Alec called him to bring the buggy in. Rifle entered the little office with his head down, wary of the new place he wasn’t allowed to enter before. Alec unhooked the harness from the cart while Freeman sat in his cushy seat behind his desk.
“There should be enough room in the fridge for everything.” Freeman pointed to the fridge standing in the corner.
Alec worked himself and the cart over to it and started putting the things that needed to be kept cold inside. Freeman offered no help and Alec was thankful for that. He noticed a TV in the corner of the room while he unpacked.
“Do you get cable on that?” Alec wondered.
“Why?” Freeman laced his fingers together on his desk. He was always so very cautious and exuded power beyond his position as a simple grocery store owner. Alec often wondered what his real story was. He thought he must have some sort of military background like himself.
“I tried calling the police to report the car theft, but they told me they were too busy for that. Twice,” Alec explained, “I figure if something is going down, it’d be on the news.”
Freeman reached into his desk without a word and pulled out a remote. When he turned on the TV, it showed the view from a handful of cameras around the store. After pressing a few buttons on the remote, the cable came on. He flipped to an all-news channel. Currently, it was showing a camera shot from a helicopter flying over the Marble Keystone park downtown, where people were fleeing from it in all directions. They watched as a fire truck drove through one of the stone walls.
“Can you turn the volume up?” There was no need for Alec to ask this as Freeman started to do so before he even finished his sentence.
“…-stone park where a charity concert was under way.” A reporter came on over the footage. “No one has yet discovered what caused the riots to break out city-wide. Police and emergency services are being overwhelmed by the chaos. Public transit is being shut down all across the city. Everyone is asked not to dial 911 unless it is a life-threatening emergency.”
“Already figured that one out,” Alec mumbled to himself.
The scene on the TV changed to a man behind a desk. “For those of you just joining us, there are reports of rioting and attacks happening all across the city, many resulting in serious injury or death. You are asked to stay in your homes unless it’s an emergency, and, as directed earlier, do not call 911 unless your life or the life of someone near you is in danger. Officials are still trying to determine the cause of the attacks, as reports keep trickling in from all over the city. Phones lines are jammed as people try to reach their loved ones. Car crashes have occurred everywhere, causing injury and, in some cases, taking down power lines. We go now to Valerie who is on the scene at a riotous event occurring at Walsten and Island.”
“That’s only a few blocks from here.” Alec looked at Freeman. Freeman kept his face unreadable, still giving nothing away, although Alec thought he saw an ever-so-slight tension building in his jaw. Alec turned back to the screen, but it was still showing the reporter behind the desk.
“It seems we’re having some technical difficulty reaching Valerie just now,” the reporter said after a few moments of silence. “Government officials have yet to be reached about the ongoing incidents. Some have speculated that this is the act of terrorists, but it is the general opinion that there are too many people involved for
that. The police are also refusing to give an official statement at this time, although there are unconfirmed reports that some officers are involved in the attacks.”
As the reporter was speaking, the camera view began to drift down. The station switched over to another camera causing the reporter to hesitate briefly before turning to face it. He continued to report how little they knew, but kept glancing over to where the other camera was located. Alec could see the tension building in the reporter by the way he carried himself. His reporting then got worse and more broken, and other voices were being picked up from off-camera personnel. Eventually, the reporter stopped reporting entirely.
“Chang? Is he all right?” the reporter asked in the direction of the off-screen camera. “Chang?”
Some more noises could be heard off-camera. Mr. Freeman turned up the volume so that he and Alec could attempt to make them out. The two of them unconsciously leaned toward the TV in an attempt to hear better. That meant that when the bloodcurdling scream erupted from the speakers, it filled the room and caused them both to flinch. On the floor, Rifle’s whine couldn’t be heard over the TV.
The reporter got up from his seat and took a step back, his chair clattering over. “Chang!” His voice boomed from the TV, amplified because of the microphone on his collar.
An Asian man, possibly Chang, suddenly appeared on camera and leaped across the reporter’s desk. He tackled the reporter to the ground. The viewers couldn’t see what happened next, but the microphone picked up everything. The screams, the growls, the crunches and squishes, and then the tearing.
Several other people rushed from off-stage trying to help the reporter. Eventually the camera was knocked over and a huge crack crossed the screen as it hit the ground. Everything went out of focus but you could still make out shapes. The camera was lying on its side, making the view slanted. Many people viewing the feed, Alec and Freeman included, tilted their own heads to try and compensate for it. Someone was seizing on the floor but it was hard to tell if they were male or female due to the lack of focus. A handful of people gathered around whoever it was, trying to help. The seizing person eventually stopped, lay still for a moment, and then grabbed the nearest legs. Alec briefly thought that it might have been a reflex action, a cry for help, but then he was pretty sure it was an attack.
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