by A. R. Licht
“That’s sketchy,” Phil said, drinking his espresso shot.
“Now I have an email from the donation site itself saying that it was created three days before. That means they planned the whole thing in advance. They knew they were going to do it.”
Phil ate a handful of chips in thought, “But that also means that they were delayed by a day or more.”
“What?”
“Well, think about it. If you create a donation site, you don’t want people to be stumbling across the fact that you created it before. So, whoever created it should have done it the day of.”
“So, if I’m following you correctly, you are saying you think that they should have done the shooting three days earlier than it actually happened.”
Phil nodded, “They must have hit a snag.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, were there any world events that happened three days before?”
Kate brought up the search engine as she finished the first half of her sandwich. She typed in, April 3, world events, and waited while it returned the keyword search. She scrolled through a
number of headlines, then stopped on one.
“This one.”
Phil leaned over and read aloud, “Duchess of Wales has given birth to twins. I think that ought to do it. That would detract from the incident and they wouldn’t want to mar it with dead babies.”
“So they let enough time go by to make it fit their needs.”
“What’s still bothering me is that I can’t say for sure that it is all about the gun laws.
Think about what else they’ve been pushing since the start,” Phil said, moving the cursor over and opening the donation page tab.
Kate nearly choked on her latte, “Its not about the gun laws.”
“It might be about that, but when you are shell-shocked by something so awful, you can’t be there in person, what is the first knee-jerk reaction you want to do? You want to help out in anyway that you can.”
“So you donate money,” Kate said. “Phil, it’s not a gun control lobby dream, it’s a business!”
“The whole time we were looking at the property taxes, I couldn’t help but think how expensive this entire venture is. We’re talking real estate, employees, actors, stagers, rentals, props, the helicopters and vehicles. Everything.”
“So they invest, spending money to make even more money in the end. Then they sell everything when they are done. My head is still spinning from the fact that they bought that property three years ago. That means they were preparing for this three years in advance.”
Phil’s hand slid over hers as she started typing furiously, effectively silencing her hands. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay?”
“Let’s go back to the hospital.”
Kate insisted that they store their photographs on several different iCloud accounts before leaving. “You never know with the hurricane, we might lose what we already have.”
“Good idea.”
They thanked the proprietor, purchased a second coffee drink to go and got back in the truck.
The wind is virtually non-existent as they drive the highway back to the scene of the hoax. The clouds have cleared, revealing a brilliant array of oranges, pinks, and reds as the sun sinks lower toward its destiny.
“Its like the hurricane decided not to come after-all,” Kate said, hopeful.
“That’s the calm before the storm,” Phil said. “If we were to get out of here in the next half-hour we might have a chance, so lets make this quick.”
“If not,” Kate said, “we still have a motel room to hunker down in.”
“I’d rather not if we can help it.”
“Do you think the guards will be gone?” Kate said.
“I hope so, it’d make things easier. I’d rather not get caught.”
She didn’t want to get caught either, because she had a feeling that the people they were dealing with were the sort that didn’t throw you in jail for trespassing.
Phil signaled, then turned right, Kate thought of the old lady who’d given her great sound bites about the teenage boys in their car listening to heavy metal music. She must have been one of the actors.
“Crisis actor,” she said out loud.
“Huh?”
“That’s what I want to call them when I break the story. They create a crisis situation and they act it out. Crisis actor.”
“It has a good ring to it.”
“I think I’ll call the mass casualty incident a made for TV event, much the way a mini-series is a television special. Only they don’t have to buy air-time.”
Phil didn’t laugh. She could see the strain this was having on him. At thirty-three years old, set in his career as an editor, this could ruin his life. She knew that she was taking a risk with her own life, but to see Phil be discredited could be disastrous for him.
“Were you serious about me writing a book about this?” she asked, thinking about his phone call with his boss.
“It’s a possibility. So long as all of the facts check out.”
“Because, you know, this could ruin your career. I doubt that whoever is doing this is going to like being exposed.”
Phil pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, “I’m not going to abandon you again.”
The well of emotions within her ran deep, that statement began to dredge up a number of them. She had to blink rapidly and look out the window to keep them in check.
Phil stopped the truck just before the curve on the hill where the hospital came into view. He shut down the engine, and they both got out. They crept up to the tree line, hugging it until they could see around it.
The guards were still there, but they had moved underneath overhang, huddled together as though having a heavy discussion.
They crept back to the truck and Phil turned it around, hopping the curb to do so without backing up.
“There’s a field on the other side.”
“Is that the field you think that guy shot that video from with the ambulances?” Phil said.
“Yes.”
“Is it wide open?”
“Well, there is corn growing in it.”
“I think we should stick to the trees.”
Phil drove down to the main road and took a right, heading further out of town. A half mile down, he found a nice dirt pull-out and parked the truck.
“What are we doing?” Kate said, not liking the looks of the forest. Dense undergrowth beneath a canopy of trees in full array of leaves.
“We walk from here.”
Chapter 26
Alkin, North Carolina - April 21st
The sun had faded from view, the wind beginning to moan as it rustled the leaves and made whispery sounds in the forest around them. Everything moved, as though animating to wave them to go back. Go back, before it gets worse.
In a matter of days, Waylon and Ann would be on the scene, showing the devastation caused by Hurricane Denise. Kate did not want to be one of the statistics that the correspondent replacing her would read from a sheet.
Still, she pressed on, knowing that this is the last thing that would close up all of the loose ends. The video that had been released on air tonight would be the final nail in the coffin if she could just see the inside of the hospital.
Phil, more of an outdoors man than she, led the way through the woods that darkened with each step.
She was grateful for the fact that she was wearing tennis shoes and not the high heels she normally wore. She stumbled over a tree root, catching herself on a stump. Phil hadn’t seen this, and she rushed to catch up as he moved swiftly between the trunks.
The wind died down long enough for her to notice a patch of lightness amongst the dense brush. She headed toward it stopping short when she realized that she was standing at the edge of the grass near the road leading to the hospital building. She could see the place they had turned around only recently, and the curve where part of the hospital was v
isible.
Phil joined her, staring at the progress they’d made, then motioned for her to follow.
They made their way along the edge, just far enough into the trees so they wouldn’t be spotted by one of the guards.
Finally, they made it to the side of the building, where a trail had been made heading deeper into the forest. They followed the trail a few steps to the grass and Phil hesitated.
“Stay,” he said before trotting ahead to the building. Once he was within arm’s length of the brick, he stealth-walked to the corner and peered carefully around it toward the parking lot.
Satisfied, he headed toward the back of the building before waving her over to join him. She jogged, crossing the distance in seconds.
“Are they still there?” she asked.
“All three,” he confirmed.
“Think they’ll stay there the whole time?”
“I hope not. Come on, lets find a way in.”
As one, they moved along the back side of the building, hoping no one would get the bright idea to walk the perimeter and find them roaming around.
They quickly realized that there is no entrance except for the main entrance where the guards stood. “No wonder they are all over there, they don’t have to worry about other doors.”
“True, but there are windows,” Phil said, picking up a rock.
“Wait!” Kate whispered loudly. “That window there is boarded over. If I remember correctly, that’s the window they used to move the fake bodies.”
Phil set the rock down and examined the board she’d indicated. “You’re right, there are only two screws holding it in place.”
He slid his fingers under the board where the brick mortar indented, found purchase, and gave it a yank. The screw wrenched free and the board, still attached by the second screw, tilted until there was enough space for them to crawl inside.
Phil went first, then helped her through just as a gust of wind brought with it a spray of rain.
The first thing Kate noticed, standing inside with only a triangle of light to see by, is the smell. Dank, musty, like an old cellar with water-damage that hasn’t been aired out in some time. She was glad she’d brought her coat in with her, untied it from her waist, slid it on, chilled from the rush of wind combined with rain and the cold interior of the building.
She hit a button, a led flashlight came on. Phil made a hissing noise through his teeth as he sucked in air. Sorry, she mouthed, lowering the beam. She’d scared him, making him think they’d already been caught.
“Hurry,” he said, “It’s getting worse out there fast.”
She nodded and carefully shone the light around the room, keeping it low so as not to shine it out the windows and bring unwanted attention to themselves.
“This must be the section of the security feed they couldn’t show,” Kate guessed at their
surroundings.
The room they were in had been emptied of all furniture or equipment, leaving behind dust and footprints where people had walked through. Phil murmured his agreement and pulled out his cell phone.
“Its not picking up well,” he said quietly, “but I’m going to try to record this.”
“You can be my new Waylon,” Kate said.
“Who is that?”
“My camera man from ANB.”
“Oh.”
"But no one will ever replace him, let's put that on the record," Kate said so quietly she wasn't sure if she'd been heard.
She stepped through the doorway, beginning with the right side of the building, swept the light over the floor. Footprints coming and going in the dust ended at a certain point but she kept going.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“What?”
“According to the diagram they gave us, this area is the nursery. There’s nothing here.
Not even a wall where it might have been.”
“Maybe you read it backwards.”
“I guess, but I’m pretty sure it was right here.”
Kate kept going, picking up the pace now. “No daycare center, no patient rooms. Phil, this room is just a shell. There aren’t any of the things the diagram said there were. I don’t see the rooms where the video on the broadcast showed them. I don’t understand.”
The walls are dirty, mold growing in corners, cobwebs moving in the slight wind coming through the window they’d left open.
“No one has been over here in this corner in a long time. Years. Are you getting all of this?” She asked Phil.
“I’m doing my best.”
"There isn't any smoke damage either, or rubble from an explosion. This is crazy!"
She moved toward the front entrance where they’d last seen the guards, looking for the elevator and the reception desk. She had to douse the flashlight here and be extra careful that their movement didn’t catch their eye.
She could see three men out there, two of them with their coats pulled up over their heads exposing their backs so the rain didn’t pelt them so much. She wondered why they hadn’t left or at least moved inside yet.
“There’s no reception desk,” she whispered now to Phil.
“No gift shop, no cafeteria. Everything is freaking cobwebs and dust,” he said, pulling at
something that stuck to his face.
“Where’s the elevator?”
“I think we were duped,” Phil said.
“I still want to see the upstairs. I want to one-hundred percent confirm that there is no way that the shooting could have happened here, even if they claim to have evidence.”
Phil pointed to a spiral stair case that didn’t look all that safe, “There’s your stairs. That sure doesn’t look like the stairs they showed in the resent broadcast.”
Kate went up first, the wind howling, getting worse as she made it to the second floor.
The entire second floor had been gutted sometime ago, four of the windows along the front of the building being knocked out for the gunmen to shoot out of. The height of the windows compared to the floor was ridiculous.
Kate is five-foot-seven, yet when she stood next to the windows, it was at chest height. “Unless the boys were giants, there’s no way they could stand here and shoot down at the police and not be a target themselves.”
She tried to imagine employees sitting at a desk in this spot trying to look out, the original intention of the building when it was first built. It just didn't fit with that scenario either, and she felt sorry for the people who once worked here.
Phil joined her, slightly taller than her and agreed, “I can barely see the parking lot from this angle, I'd have to climb on something to be comfortable.”
Rain stung her skin as it pelted against the side of the building, the wind finding a way in through the broken windows, giving breath to the hollow structure.
“We should go,” Phil said.
“One more thing,” Kate said.
She turned on the flashlight and walked the perimeter of the upper story, then slowed near the missing windows. She shone the light carefully into the cracks in the mortar, taking her time.
Phil was getting nervous watching the storm rage outside, “Come on, Kate. If we don’t go now, we will be stuck here all night.”
“Just a second.”
She played the light around the bricks, and the inside wall, a glint of something catching the light. She dug her fingers into the space, working at it.
“Kate!”
“Hold on!”
“We have to go!”
A crack of thunder compounded with a flash of lightening hitting at the same time and hail began to fall in the broken window. The little ice chips stinging her face, her hands, causing her fingers to bleed from little cuts.
“I almost have it.”
Somewhere outside a tree groaned, snapped, hit the ground with a thud she could hear over the din.
Her fingers ached as they closed around the object, she pulled it free and held it up. A shell casing they missed. She
pocketed it in her jeans out of fear it would fall from her coat pocket.
“Okay,” she said, “Let’s go.”
Chapter 27
Hospital in North Carolina - April 21st
Phil went down the spiral staircase ahead of her, her feet nearly slipping on the metal concrete