by Brian Toal
Things began to happen.
EIGHT - SIX
Terrible things. Terrible thoughts. Chris stepped back from the car, his eyes wide. Vaguely and at a great distance, he saw his mother stop her struggle with the door as she followed his movement. Pictures. Pictures of great fury and destruction, with colours only of red and black, tore through his mind. The Policeman on the other side of the car stood, with his billy club raised, yelling for assistance from the other two officers. Chris looked at him once - and destroyed him.
His upper body vaporized. Fragmented bits of flesh and blood roared like a red wave over the roof of the car and the uniforms of the two officers rushing to assist.
The two rear doors of the car exploded out of their frames. The door nearest Chris barely missing his head as he stood immobile in the parking lot. The other tore through the air inches overhead of the other two officers who dropped to their knees.
Two truck drivers came out of the restaurant and bellowed excitedly. There were only pictures of destruction available to him now and when he turned towards them - they detonated. The windows of the restaurant imploding as four hundred pounds of torn flesh smashed against the glass.
He watched his Mother pull herself out of the car, falling to her knees on the pavement. He almost destroyed her too, but with a grunt of self-control blew the tire up beside her. The police car lifted from the ground as shredded pieces of rubber and belt slashed his mother across her neck and back.
He couldn't see the other Policemen - they were on the ground on the opposite side of the car. But, he could hear them. "Down!" They were yelling. "Down on the ground." He saw their car though. Flashing roof lights shattered. The whole rack of lights and flashers tore off the car, lifted into the air, rotated once and then dropped between the two cruisers.
His Mother was crawling across the pavement towards him. "Get away!" He screamed pushing the vision he had of her out of his mind. The glass of the Police car in front of him exploded. The hubcaps leapt off the rims with a metallic ping and rolled drunkenly across the parking lot.
His mother was closer now. He could hear her, but he mustn't look. "Chris! Chris, stop it!" She was screaming.
"Down!" The cops were yelling. "Down on the ground!"
People were gathering at the broken windows of the restaurant, the babble of their combined voices drawing his attention. Garbage cans spaced evenly along-side the sidewalk, spewed coffee cups and used oil cans as the barrels flew through the windows. Their heads disappeared and Chris shuddered as his mind shifted focus.
"Mom, get away!" He screamed as he felt her hands on his ankles and his mind fought to find a picture of her. "Mom, I'll kill you!" He tore his foot from her grasp and turned away from the car.
Hundreds of visions flashed through his mind. A blur of images. Anonymous faces ruptured fountains of gore, limbs scattered across the parking lot. He pictured it all. Wanted it. Wanted to make it happen.
"Chris!" His Dad's authoritarian voice called from behind him.
Involuntarily, Chris turned, his father's head and shoulders visible above the Police Car. The swirling unfocused pictures stopped, locked on the exploding vision of his father face.
"No!" Chris screamed, slashing the air with his hands. "Nooo!" He pushed at it, his fingers tearing at his eyes as he tried to remove the vision.
There was a wet, hollow explosion. Warm fluid spattered his face. A hand, the hairy fingers and wrist cantilevered as if in a final wave landed at his feet. His father's broad gold wedding ring sparkling in the sodium lights.
"Nooo!" He screamed, his eyes locked onto his father's severed hand laying at his feet.
"Nooo...!" Gobs of foamy drool flew from his mouth as he flung his head from side to side, his hands tearing at his hair, unable and unwilling to comprehend what he had done. There was an explosion inside of him - a black fury - and his entire body shuddered, almost knocking him to his knees as something took over inside of him. Removing his control, staggering him back and away from the car. He grunted, his mouth falling open in a dazed stupor, as with almost an audible clunk, his conscious mind shut down entirely and through a hazy black vision he looked out at the world.
And exterminated it.
Everything. Anyone. Absolutely. An explosion of visions tore through his mind. The images shuddering as individual pictures were chosen and then put into being.
Cars exploded, some flipping into the restaurant as their gas tanks propelled them through the windows. Tractor-trailers launched into the air - their dual one hundred and fifty-gallon tanks blasted into torrents of flame. The ground shuddered under his feet as the gas pumps and then the underground tanks erupted. Flames hundreds of feet high rose around him.
Liquid fire flowed across the parking lot, the wheels of every trailer and tractor raging smoky infernos of fiery hell. Screams. Mostly male.
Terrified screams from flaming corpses as they fell from tractor side doors into lakes of flaming diesel fuel. Shoeless, shirtless men, their charred flesh peeling in chunks. Men trapped in the sleeping berths of their rigs, jumping from their trucks. Exiting into madness.
His mother's voice, distant through the flames. Calling his name. Screaming his name. Then screaming. Just screaming....
The sun pushed its way over the horizon, as the emergency crews continued working among the smouldering ruins in the ten-acre parking lot. They had no idea what had happened. A bomb? A terrorist assault? A tanker that had exploded? Certainly, amid the panic of moving the hundreds of the injured and dying to the hospitals and schools - where even now classrooms were filled with the burnt and twisted bodies of the dead - no one cared about the small boy standing by the interchange. Why should they? The devil had been loose in their town last night. Might even visit again. No, they had their own immediate concerns.
Too bad really, for the small boy they passed, their red lights flashing and tires squealing, was indecisive. The power buried beneath his blue eyes churned, as he shifted his vision from object to object, fighting to hold it back.
Yes, maybe they could have helped him then. But there were urgent things to do today. Lives to be saved. Bodies to be stacked. Investigations to be launched. Paperwork to be completed.
So, he stood, fighting with it, the half developed logic of a twelve year old containing it, pondering its future. Then, as the out-of-state car slowed in deference to his out-stretched thumb, any chance of diverting his course was removed.
The small boy, dressed in blue jeans, sneakers and a blue windbreaker with eight state pins on the collar, ran down the shoulder - alone.
CHAPTER NINE
ONE
The Real Estate Agent met them in the lobby of the Financier Centre, the polished granite pillars rising a full three floors before they met the domed ceiling. A set of scaffolding was partially disassembled in one corner and the marble floor was thick with a layer of dust, marred by the scuff of workman's boots.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford. It’s good to meet you." Adrian Paterson rose from a marble bench enclosing a shallow pit that would one day hold potted shrubs and plants, now half filled with Styrofoam coffee cups, bits of wood and other construction debris. He walked across the lobby to greet them, his hand outstretched. "I apologise for the mess, but the completion date is close. That, I promise you."
Beth and Charlie nodded, and in turn shook his hand.
"Council-woman Garrett tells me you are looking for some space."
"Yes, we are." Beth answered, "about twenty thousand square feet, if it’s available."
"Twenty thousand feet...a lot of space. Yes, a good amount of space. So, tell me," Adrian continued, "how long have you known Julie? A good friend of mine, she is. Why, she and I go back even before she ran for office. Back then, before she became...uh...a person of public domain, she used to dabble in real estate herself. Wasn't bad at it either. Made some good money, she did."
"We haven't known her for that long." Beth answered as the three of them walked across t
he lobby, their footsteps echoing in the immense expanse.
"Yes...well, I was indeed happy she thought to call me. Leased space in central Detroit is a tricky thing. Rates fluctuate, terms change...in fact, the whole market is in a period of growth. I've been in the business now eighteen years, never has been as exciting as it is now."
"Yes, Julie mentioned you had considerable experience."
"Oh, yes. I'm primarily into lease holds. And this property here is offering some of the best rates I know of."
Beth nodded agreeably as they reached the elevators.
"Yes, I must say, the owners here are quite willing to be negotiable on rates for the right lease. Now, Julie was saying you were looking for something above the tenth floor and yet with room for expansion, within the year."
"Yes." Beth answered simply, Charlie continuing his silence as the doors opened before them.
"Well, the top two floors, the 39th and 40th, have been rented, but anything above the thirtieth floor is finished and ready to be completed to your liking. I would suggest the thirtieth and thirty-first floors. Then, as your business progresses, like Julie indicated it might, the 29th or below would be available, for some time, if additional space was needed."
They entered the elevator and as the doors closed Charlie spoke. "At what rate do you expect the building to be occupied?"
"Well, that’s difficult to say. But judging from my past experience - and I want to assure you I have plenty - you could probably get an option to lease the 29th and 28th floors if you feel you might need them in the near future, for an entirely reasonable amount."
Charlie nodded.
"But, we can talk about that later." Adrian leaned back against the elevator wall as it ascended. "So, what is Intertec Developments?"
Beth turned and addressed him carefully. "It’s a financial corporation. Primarily we acquire businesses that are under-productive or mismanaged or undervalued and then we re-establish them in the marketplace."
"Ah! Corporate take overs and all that business."
"Yes, only we re-develop the existing management and employees."
"Re-develop?"
"Yes. No mass layoffs, just re-education and improved product control."
"Wow! Sounds great. Just what Detroit needs."
"What the whole country needs." Charlie added as the doors opened.
"Here we are!" Adrian exclaimed, indicating they should move out of the elevator. "The thirty-first floor and the one below is the same." They stood by the doors, a huge, dusty concrete floor meeting floor to ceiling windows on all four sides. "A superb view of Detroit and all the room you need."
Beth and Charlie stood side by side looking about the space. Pipes projected from the floor for plumping, others for electricity and telephone. Wires hung from the ceiling, neatly coiled for a future use, and over all a coating of dust. "Is this is available for immediate occupancy?" Beth asked.
"Sure. Your work crews can be in here tomorrow."
"How much?"
"Well, you know this particular commercial area commands a fairly high rent. And this being a new building, makes it all the more desirable. But the owners are anxious to lease and have provided considerable discounts for the first few tenants."
He stopped and Charlie and Beth stood waiting.
When Adrian could see they were not about to respond he continued. "If you were willing to sign a five-year lease for the twenty thousand square feet on this and the thirtieth floor, along with options to lease on the 29th and 28th, we could probably do it for about twenty dollars per square foot. That would be a triple net lease." He added.
"I see." Beth answered, looking at Charlie.
"Now, the owners might be negotiable on the option-to-lease clause for the 29th and 28th floors. I’d have to talk with them..."
"How long would the option-to-lease clause last?" Charlie asked.
"Well, we would have to work that out. I see no problem with six months, maybe a year, but I..."
"Make it one year." Beth said, "And we’ll take it. This floor and the one below."
"Ahhh..." Adrian stopped. Stunned with the speed of their decision. "Do you need to talk it over? Ahhh...we could go for a coffee."
"No. We'll take it." Beth repeated.
Adrian turned to Charlie.
Charlie nodded his head in agreement.
"Oh...well...in that case." Adrian stammered, his professional poise totally disrupted by their incredibly quick decision and lack of verbal communication. "That's great!" He finished.
Charlie and Beth turned towards the elevator and Adrian quickly moved ahead of them to push the button.
"Now, of course I’ll need a copy of your bank statements and incorporation documents to present to the owners."
"Yes, we understood you would." Beth spoke as she preceded her husband into the elevator. "Seven million, five hundred and thirty-two thousand dollars was deposited to our Detroit account, this morning. Will that be sufficient supporting credit?"
Adrian forgot about maintaining control of this deal. "Ahhh...yes. I think the owners would find that quite satisfactory."
Later that afternoon Beth stood, resplendent in a wine-red business suit, at the end of a long oblong conference table. "So, as a representative of the new owners, Intertec Developments, I would like to meet, individually, with each of you as well as the production employees. At the present moment, Intertec's Detroit offices are not ready for habitation. However, I’m working out of a mobile office that I’ve had outfitted. I’d like to make a one-hour appointment, with each one of you, over the next several days."
"All thirteen of us?" The tallest executive spoke from among the twelve others sitting around the table.
"Yes, all of you. Mostly I want to review, with each of you, your present responsibilities and discuss with each of you, individually, the specific plans Intertec has for Laser Circuits. Probably some of your responsibilities will change. But I can't be sure until I speak with each of you specifically."
"You want to meet with each one of the eighty production employees as well?" He asked again, disbelief in his voice. "Why?"
"It is Intertec's policy. That way, there is no misunderstanding regarding the employee's future with the company. Of course, as regarding the production employees, I’ll talk with them as a group. There’s no need for me to meet with them individually."
"Ms. Rutherford." An impeccably dressed, younger executive spoke up. "You indicated that you do not perceive there will be any change in the staffing levels here at Laser Circuits."
"That is correct. Before purchasing Laser Circuits, Intertec did a complete corporate review. We do not perceive any staffing changes will be necessary or indeed prudent. We believe, with an upgrade of certain equipment, an infusion of marketing capital and a slight change in production product, Laser Circuits will recover its profitability."
"But, you are aware..." The younger man persisted, "...that our primary market, in fact our whole market, is the development and production of low volume, low cost circuit-boards. With an infusion of capital, to replace some of our older, man-hour intensive equipment, surely you would predict some layoffs. At least in production."
"No we do not." Beth lowered herself into the plush chair at the head of the conference table. "Your main market has been the manufacturing of boards with the average run of five hundred or less. As we see it, this market is still viable. Granted, with the addition of the new equipment we propose, some production positions will be eliminated. However, one of the reasons Intertec was interested in acquiring Laser Circuits is that, we have some other acquisitions which have needs that can be met by the manufacturing capabilities of this plant. We predict half of your current production capability will be consumed, directly, by subsidiary companies of Intertec."
"Wow! I had no idea that Intertec was so large."
"Intertec is just the financial corporation. When we are established here, I’ll distribute last year's annual report. It will give
you an idea of the extent of our holdings."
The postures of the men and women sitting around the table were different now. When Beth had first begun to speak, many of them were sure she would eventually be discussing the downsizing of staff and management, severance packages and other dreaded topics. From what they had now heard, their positions would be secure. Indeed, if Intertec could infuse another fifty percent worth of sales, there may well be the possibility of salary increases. Something the previous owners had refused to discuss.
As if Beth had read their thoughts, she continued. "And as far as salaries are concerned...Intertec will increase salaries and wages, across the board, by eight percent. Then for the next year, salaries will be adjusted by merit."
There was an explosion of gasps and light-hearted laughter around the table and then the tall executive, who first spoke, stood up, a wide grin on his face.
"Welcome to Laser Circuits, Ms. Rutherford." He reached forward to shake Beth's hand. "You are indeed the miracle we have been waiting for."
NINE - TWO
Later that afternoon, as Beth was getting the grand tour of Laser Circuits, a yellow, message-service van pulled up in front of the Rutherford's moderate house on Oakwood. A young woman in her early twenties hopped out of the vehicle and jogged across the boulevard. A huge recreational vehicle was backed into the driveway, its nose even with the front sidewalk. Skirting the vehicle, she had a quick peak through one of the side windows. This was no camper van, she thought, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. It was a mobile office or something. She noted the polished table, inlaid with a computer screen and the four high-backed chairs surrounding it. Shrugging her shoulders, she turned and ran up to the door of the house.
Charlie answered her knock and signed for the bulky package, then closing the door, he turned and slit the seal. The lease documents for 31st and 30th floors of the new Financier Centre poured in a solid clump onto his living room coffee table. Intertec Developments was approved for a five-year lease on the two floors with an option to lease the two below, open for an eight month period. Charlie gathered the papers together and stuffed them back into the envelope.