by A. R. Licht
“Do you see the line to get out of here? I’d hate to be stuck in that on the way out.”
Kate looked at all of the vehicles at a standstill as they headed in the opposite direction. There must have been a few miles of cars at least, bumper to bumper like that. She said, “It’ll clear up by then. No one wants to be stuck out here.”
Phil kept driving, but she could see he wasn’t happy about it.
The town of Alkin is bathed in sunlight, dark clouds gathering on the horizon. The townsfolk are preparing for Hurricane Denise by boarding up windows and either stocking up on supplies or packing up their prized belongings for a road trip. Kate felt out of place among these people bustling about, trying to protect their lives and livelihoods while they drove through like guests catching their hosts at a bad time.
“We should start with the hospital. I want to see the inside and get a good feel for it. Maybe there was blood that was missed by the cleaning crew- if there was one.”
“This is hard for me. I want it to be real so that I’m not creeped out by the idea of some
organization creating made-for-tv events for some hidden agenda, but then I don’t want it to be real because what happened was really awful,” Phil said, turning the direction she indicated.
“I know what you mean. But, my goal is to get to the bottom of this and determine what it is, one way or the other.”
“Why are you so hard pressed to do this when it's clear they want you to stop?”
“Because I lost my job over it, and my sister almost lost her baby because of me. Where does it end? I’ll always live with the threat over my head if they are concerned that I’ll try to figure it out again in the future. At this point, it's all or nothing and the sooner we end this the better.”
“Okay. So then where is the hospital?”
She directed him out to the strangely isolated hospital and he drove up the long winding drive.
The trees felt closer than she remembered, the road more claustrophobic. The alders and oaks spread thin between sugar maples, birch, and dogwood. The grass is overgrown too, not that nice mowed green she remembers.
They pass the point where she remembers the tents, only slight evidence of the people flattening the earth under their feet and the places where the tents had been staked. Bits of trash have pocketed along the curb and in the undergrowth of the forest edge.
Rounding the large curve at the top of the hill, the first thing she notices are the patches of dirt before the building where the lawn once caught dew in the morning light. She thought it was odd that anyone would reduce the grass to soil. She glanced up at the windows above that had been broken out for the final stand, where bullets zinged and ricocheted off of police cars, cement, finding purchase in metal and earth. Maybe the grass held secrets of spent casings and flattened bullet heads and they pulled up the top layer like sod to analyze later. That is, if they weren’t doing a thorough coverup instead of an investigation.
Phil jerked the truck to a halt when he caught sight of three guards standing together against a wall to the right of the overhang where patients were dropped off in front of the sliding doors where newborns and new mothers were picked up to go home. They were cupping cigarettes in their mouths against the slight wind that had picked up.
One turned toward them, shielded his eyes from the sun to see who had come up the drive, then waved them away. He was very animated, pointing toward the way they’d come, seemingly surprised that anyone would attempt to come out so far. Phil put the truck in reverse and backed the truck down a ways until he could make a 3-point-turnabout and head back to the main road.
“Well, I guess they have that well-guarded,” Kate said, disappointed.
“Why would anyone be guarding that place? I didn’t see any crime tape, did you?”
“I’m not sure crime tape is needed during an ongoing investigation,” Kate said, bothered by the fact that the hospital was under surveillance with three guards. “The question is, did those look like police left to keep the place secure?”
“No, I didn’t even see a vehicle around to confirm their employer.”
“I didn’t either, which means they were dropped off or might have parked behind the building.”
“The hurricane is coming,” Phil said, “why aren’t they getting the hell out of here like any sane normal employer would allow? No human life is worth losing over a building.”
“Good point,” Kate said, suddenly excited. “What if whoever did the hoax wants to keep people away at all costs until they can finish their coverup?”
“That be insanely crazy.”
“I want to go back.”
“I’m not going back, they might have guns.”
“We could sneak through the woods.”
Phil looked exasperated, “If we get caught in the woods with the hurricane, do you even
comprehend how deadly that would be?”
Her phone rang, it was Sienna. Kate stared at the screen as it continued to ring. She had forgotten about Sienna. Sienna had been there when she’d hidden the flash drive bag behind the drawer. Sienna knew about all of the footage files she had, having gone over them with her.
Would she take them, to further her own career?
“Are you going to answer that?” Phil said.
“No,” Kate said, watching the call go to voicemail.
Thirty seconds later, the screen lit up telling her that Sienna had left a message. She listened to it, apprehensive.
“Kate! Where are you? I’ve been knocking on your door for the past five minutes. Are you home? Well, where ever you are, turn on the TV! They released the camera feeds from inside the hospital in Alkin- you know, that one you were worried about? Obsessive much? Haha! Now you have proof it really happened! Call me back when you get my message.”
Kate put the phone in her lap, “I changed my mind. Lets get a hotel with a TV.”
Phil nearly swerved, “Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.”
He drove them back into the town which looked like the storm before the calm. People
congregating together to help board up their businesses, placing sandbags, shutting off utilities.
Phil had lectured her all of the way here about how she wasn’t thinking this through, that she was endangering their lives just to get to the root of something that surely could wait until after the hurricane passed over.
But, Kate knew that it couldn’t wait. There was something odd about the guards out at the hospital. They didn’t strike her as professional, but rather three people situated to look like something they weren’t. True guards would not have huddled up together to smoke and chat.
They would have been alert, possibly stationed at different parts of the building to watch all of the vantage points.
She intended to go back, even if Phil was up in arms about it.
“That one,” she pointed to a motel with a flashing vacancy sign.
“This is pure madness,” Phil said, pulling into the parking lot.
“Then drop me off and go home.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Then, I don’t want to hear it.”
Phil snapped his mouth shut and looked at her as he put the engine into park. “Look, you said we’d be out of here before the storm hits, and now you want to stay in motel.”
“I don’t plan to stay the night,” Kate said.
“Then, why get a room?”
“Because I need a base of operations.”
“Okay, boss. I guess you have your reasons,” he said.
Kate knew he was still upset but he dropped the lecture. At least he recognized that she had thought things through.
The man behind the counter thought she was insane, “You know we are going to have a hurricane right?”
“I do.”
“And you won’t be able to see out of the windows?”
“That’s fine, I’m not here for the view.”
“Well, alright then.”<
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“Why is your sign still on if you don’t expect new customers?” Phil said.
“Oh, is it still on? That thing is a bastard. One day it works, the next it doesn’t. I’ll go pull the plug. It’ll probably be damaged soon anyway.”
Kate took the key and jogged to room 112, entering the dark space with a musty smell, she was glad she wouldn’t be sleeping here. She turned on the television, flipped through the channels of the local news until she found one playing the video feed.
Phil stood next to her as the news anchor reminded the audience that the footage might be found disturbing but that they would not show the bodies of the victims out of respect for the families.
Kate watched as the grainy feed began, the timestamp at nine-twenty seven in the morning. The camera showed the hospital lobby where a woman stood just inside the gift shop, restocking a shelf. A man strolled from the cafeteria to the elevator bank and disappeared into a bathroom. An older woman stood to the side of the reception desk, it looked like she was shredding something.
A normal peaceful day in the life of a hospital.
Kate recognized the people. The man was Terry Berkus. The receptionist, Justine Plunkett. The girl in the gift shop, Patty O’Neil.
Just outside the door, two male figures dressed in all black drove up to the sliding doors, got out of their car. They spent some time out of sight at the back of the car before entering the lobby with guns pointed at the ceiling.
She saw their faces, Cody Cooper, sixteen years old and alive, looking young and scared out of his mind. Travis Fosholdt, the eighteen year old who had murdered his mother before arriving here. She could see his demeanor was that of someone cool, confident, ready to commence killing.
He is the one that shoots first, the little gun in his hand an AOP slightly larger than a pistol-sized assault rifle. Semi-automatic with a magazine that holds thirty rounds. The anchor is voicing over the feed, telling the audience what Travis is using to murder Justine where she stood, frozen over the shredder in fear.
Then Cody takes out Patty, her red hair fanning out around her head like a halo as she comes to rest on the floor.
Travis points toward the cafeteria, and Cody lobs a grenade out of view of the camera. Someone runs toward him and he mows them down. Alan Szerna doubles over and falls to the floor.
Kate covers her mouth as tears prickle in her eyes. Phil is silent. The anchor man continues to explain what they are seeing as the feed changes.
“This is the day care area, the part of the video we will not show. The janitor, the nursery
workers, the day care employee, and the babies and children are all murdered here.”
Onscreen, Travis is throwing grenades into patient rooms, quickly closing the doors as smoke drifts out of them. The smoke fills the hallway quickly, concealing the monster from view as he
proceeds systematically down the hallway.
“Travis Fosholdt has now murdered a woman named Wengren Schumaker who was at the hospital for hormonal treatment that fated morning.”
Then the feed switches to the upstairs camera where the view of the hallway and stairs enable the viewer to see Travis and Cody pry open the elevator doors with a crow bar and drop a grenade down the shaft. A burst of flame and smoke wafts out of the black void and the boys are visibly laughing and congratulating each other.
Kate is thrown off by this, remembering Terry Berkus saying that he heard the boys call the elevator down to the first floor before the explosion hit. Afterward, he heard them say that it was better than playing a video game.
It is Cody’s turn to wreak havoc on the second floor and he does it with an attitude, lobbing grenades into each of the rooms. Off camera are the nurse and midwife, which he shoots to death. Then a door opens and more smoke fills the hallway.
A doctor, Julia Bemenek tries to fight off Cody. She is vicious, and instantly a hero. Travis watches for a moment before raising his gun.
The feed ends and the news anchor is onscreen.
“We had to end it there because of the brutality. The woman you saw there, fighting her assailants off is Doctor Julia Bembenek. She had been in the process of a cesarean delivery on Joleen Berkus. It is too graphic to show, but she was murdered there in the hallway. Joleen Berkus died on the table, her baby suffocating shortly thereafter.”
“I thought they weren’t going to show the bodies,” Phil said in a low voice.
Kate had no words. What she had seen was horrific. All of those lives cut short by two boys, the future of the human race, and they had done it while laughing. They had even taken the time to take out the elevator, proud of their work.
The feed continued, the boys taking things from empty rooms and piling them at the top of the stair well.
“Cody Cooper and Travis Fosholdt have just returned from restocking their ammunition and grabbing a second gun from the trunk of their car which was later found to contain handguns, a box of twenty more hand grenades, and bullets. The second gun they chose is a carbine full-auto rifle.”
Then the screen changed to the shootout, which Kate had seen before back when she’d been part of the media circus on the ground broadcasting about the firefight.
This video was taken from the vantage-point of the helicopter, showing the sniper taking one shot, then a second. The sniper is calm, precise, shoots a third time. His face is covered by his helmet and sunglasses, unrecognizable.
The anchor finishes out the segment by talking about the victims again, the donation site flashing on screen so that people can help the families grieve. Footage of the memorial service is shown in the background. Flowers and pictures, grieving family members.
Kate sits on the edge of the bed in shock. This was unprecedented. To see the spree on national television, played out in all its gruesome glory for the world to watch, it was sick. She wished she’d never seen it. After witnessing something like that, how in the world could anyone still claim hoax?
Phil stirred at the edge of her peripheral vision. He said, “But where was the blood?”
Chapter 24
Alkin, North Carolina - April 21st
Phil sat next to her on the bed, the warmth of his body radiating out until it touched her and she absorbed it.
“If we are going to do this, we’re going to do it right,” he said.
“You’re convinced?”
“More than convinced, I’m certain that feed was faked.”
Kate felt the shock leave her body as life in the release of adrenaline throbbed through her limbs. He didn’t doubt her.
“So, how do we do go about doing this right?” Kate said, energized.
“We show the world that none of them existed before the event.”
They called around and found that only a few of the government offices they wanted to visit had already closed. Still open are the library and the county courthouse, but they would be closing in the next two hours.
On the silenced TV in the background, the mayor of the town of Alkin could be seen with a ticker tape below warning of a state of emergency. Gusts of up to one-hundred-and-nineteen miles per hour, a category three have been reported on the coast.
They drove to the courthouse in the fading light of the day, shafts of broken sun shifting through the grey clouds.
Phil held the door for her as they entered the dimly lit halls of the courthouse, the marble floors and wood-paneled walls speaking of an era where judges and lawyers ruled the halls. Now the court rooms are delegated to the second floor, the first floor dedicated to marriage licenses, titles, court documents, and the tax assessor’s office.
The light is still on in the assessor’s office and Kate had thought to bring along her media badge that she hadn’t turned in to Jack just yet, because she had left it in the car. She hoped no one would call her bluff and make phone calls to make sure she is who she claims to be.
A man is behind the counter, a flurry of activity behind him. They are placing the computers into water-proof bins.
>
“Moving day?” Kate joked.
“All of it goes into the basement, what a mess,” the man said, glancing behind him. “What can I do you for?”
Kate flashed her badge and the man held out his hand. She let him examine it before he handed it back to her.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I looked at a few tax records from this past year?”
“Well, as you can see I don’t have a lot of resources to help you with, but I’ll see what I can do. Do you have an address?”
Kate said, “The first is Peter and Sally Cooper’s house.”