by Oak Anderson
Brad stood up, too, and there was an awkward pause as he tried to decide whether to shake hands with his potential murderer-for-hire.
The man in the windbreaker grabbed his hand and pumped his arm once, like a casual acquaintance of recent inception.
“Keep in touch,” he said, smiling, and turned to leave the restaurant.
Brad just stood there, as the man assumed he would. Guy doesn’t know whether to shit or wind his watch. The man in the windbreaker was almost to his car at the far edge of the parking lot before Brad realized he was standing in the middle of a bustling diner and staring into space like a complete fool.
As soon as he sat down, a pretty waitress with dark hair and brooding eyes came up to the table. “What else can I get you?” she asked, slightly sullen, and it was at that moment that Brad knew not only how to find Charlie, but what to do when he found him.
Maybe he wouldn’t need the man in the windbreaker, after all.
***
“When the fuck were you going to tell me this?” Sarah said, her voice rising.
“Why are you so upset?”
“Because you lied to me!”
Charlie couldn’t believe how badly the conversation was going. Here he had finally figured out women, and now this.
“I didn’t lie,” he said. “Not really.”
Sarah threw off the sheets and jumped out of bed, and the pungent smell of sex and sweat wafted out into the open and nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted two things so badly he could barely contain himself from screaming out at the top of his lungs. A shower, and to go back in time two minutes and take back his “confession”, or so she was calling it.
Sarah just stood there, naked, watching him squirm. It was like she was daring him to allow his eyes to crawl over her body so she could hit him with that, as well.
“Not really,” she repeated, sarcasm practically dripping from her lips. “Not really.”
“Hey, I said I was sorry!” he shouted, starting to lose it. Five minutes ago he would have answered, if asked, that he thought he could have taken anything she said or did without any complaint whatsoever, so strong was his love for her. Now he felt himself slipping into some sort of angry abyss she seemed determined to pull him towards for no reason other than that she could, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He knew what was happening, but he was powerless to stop himself.
And now, he understood that women, and other matters of the heart, were not to be ‘figured out’ at all.
“You dragged me into this – ”
“What are you talking about?”
“ – because you didn’t have the balls to kill your stepfather!”
Her words stung him because they made him seem petty and weak, and because it was mostly true. He wanted to build the website because he basically planned to slip Brad’s name on it without her knowledge, in order to entice someone else to do what he didn’t have the courage to do himself.
He just looked down at the floor, feeling the disgust in her eyes, and it was at that moment that, for very different reasons, they both realized the import of what they had actually done.
It was one thing to speak of the website in an academic sense, to rage and quake against the pedophiles and rapists and murderers who went unpunished for their crimes. To pretend to be callous and tough as their generation had learned to be in an online world without real world consequences, but several real people had died for their sins.
But whose sins?
In spite of their crimes, those hated human beings had been warm flesh and hot blood and solid bone, who would never again draw breath because of their website.
And what about the innocent people that were perhaps coaxed into murder and suicide?
Everything that had come before suddenly welled up inside the two of them and threatened to spill out like the blood of the farmed.
What they had been doing together the last several weeks while they found more and more names to judge, names from the state website and names from stolen police
files and names from the local newspapers; it all seemed obscene.
They’d been tasting each other and feeling each other and sucking and fucking and playing and laughing while others took the lives and deaths of other human beings into their hands like so much clay, molding them on the whims of children, which was suddenly how both of them felt. Like imperfect, immature beings with no certainty of emotional advancement.
Neither of them spoke, but they each became acutely aware of their nakedness and began to get dressed in silence, like two long-ago partners after eating from the Tree of Knowledge.
After they were clothed, Charlie fired up the laptop and Sarah turned on the TV, and the founders of the TOWY movement, by way of a dying Native and a disconsolate sister, saw just exactly what their arrogance and naiveté had wrought.
Chapter Eighteen
How are you holding up?
It was the first time in days Anita had actually been able to get hold of Thane, even by text, what with the FBI coordinating efforts with the local TOWY task force. The death of the child by car bomb had suddenly turned a microscope on everything, and Thane had been working twenty hour days to try and find whoever was responsible for putting up the website.
Same old shit, Thane typed in response. He was in the middle of another naptime briefing, trying his best to ignore the FEDSAC, otherwise known as the Federal Special Agent in Charge, or as Thane called him, the Nutsack.
The Nutsack hated it when he texted during meetings, so Thane tried to do it as much as he possibly could.
Plus, he hadn’t gotten laid in weeks and he was feeling it.
Anything I can do? :D
Thane smiled.
Wtever you want, baby.
God, he wanted to get her back in the sack.
But surprisingly, he didn’t just want to fuck her. He wanted to be with her. He missed talking to her, even over the phone, which had been rare of late. He missed her smell, her touch, her taste. Thane had not even washed the shirt he’d been wearing the last time they were together, taking it out of the closet and sniffing it when he got home sometimes like some goddamn Brokeback cowboy.
Anita had laughed like hell over the phone when he’d told her that. A year before, he’d never have considered sharing something so silly, mostly because it would have never crossed his mind in the first place.
The truth was, she’d changed him.
Even more surprising, he didn’t mind. Son of a bitch if he didn’t love her.
Thane looked up and saw that he’d pushed the Nutsack about as far as he dared in a single day, so he signed off with Anita and focused on the briefing, which was pretty much nothing but horseshit.
The problem with the FBI, as far as Thane was concerned, was everything. In this case, they kept him on as joint head of the task force, local edition, but it was clear that he was just around in case they needed a scapegoat. His only real power now was using his own investigative skills and a few back channels even the Feds didn’t pay attention to, to try and get a break in the case.
It was an unusual task force in that there was basically no perpetrator, but about a billion possible future actors, and the FBI didn’t generally do so well with crime prevention when there wasn’t a person to actually chase. The whole thing was more for show, as far as Thane was concerned, but that didn’t make it unimportant. On the contrary, the Feds were scared and it showed through in everything they were doing.
Some of their bean counters had obviously run the numbers and came up with a computer model that told them if they didn’t get a handle on things pretty quickly, this would turn into the first real world, viral murder spree.
Because of the notoriety of this, the Feds had a sealed John Doe warrant for whoever had put up the website, who were thought to be locals based on the content and thought to be young, based on their skills.
The TOWY site had been hosted until recently on The Pirate Bay, a notorious
and secretive site that was banned all over the world but also had proxies all over the world, and whose founder, coincidentally, had recently fallen under suspicion for his own murder-for-hire activities.
The Feds knew that was bullshit, but they weren’t about to clear the poor bastard just in case they needed a scapegoat on the other side, which was another reason Thane didn’t trust them. The guy was going down for something, the Feds just hadn’t decided for what.
The warrant for the TOWY site founder or founders would never hold up in federal court, but for the time being the Attorney General had come up with a tortured legal reasoning to allow it, and when the person or persons were caught, something else could always be cooked up.
It was rumored that the Pirate Bay creator had also started the TOWY website, and there were other unsubstantiated rumors, as well. Some said there were Biblical prophecies that foretold the phenomenon, a kind of play on the old eye-for-an-eye, with a “newly discovered” ancient scroll that changed the translation to “an eye with an eye”, or some such crap, and others that it was the first sign of the apocalypse, that those who killed would come back to life like the fictional inhabitants of a popular television show.
There was even a version related to chemtrails and fluoridation, passed around on Twitter and Facebook much like the actual entreaties to rise up and take someone out if the opportunity arose.
All of the crazy theories developed over time, morphing anew and combining and recombining with each other until all semblance of sane discussion on the topic of the Towys seemed to be relegated to the impotent jurisdictional bodies and governments who seemed powerless to stop it.
Over time, the TOWY movement became a mirror reflecting whatever ugliness or saintliness or retribution or mercy that resided within the TOWY farmer, and there was all of that and more. The world economy hadn’t helped either, with feelings of hopelessness and despair contributing to the cause. New studies had found a correlation between hard times and suicide, findings that were disputed by many, and the TOWY movement was just another log on that particular fire.
No academics of consequence thought TOWY was actually driving up the numbers, but no one had ever seen anything like TOWY before.
People were choosing to take their life and the life of another for reasons as varied as there were people willing and able to join the movement.
All of this weighed heavily on Sarah and Charlie.
In truth, they agreed to take down the site as soon as they saw the news reports of the death of the child, but it was too late. Sarah had initially set up the site through a torrent site in Laos, sending encrypted files using Tor, but in just hours after the death of the toddler it had been mirrored hundreds of times around the world, through The Pirate Bay and others, eventually numbering in the thousands. Soon enough, the name and design had been appropriated by others, most of them quickly shut down, but just as quickly replaced.
All of this made the federal task force even more worthless since the originators had no more control over their “followers” than over the tides of the ocean or the clouds in the sky, but something had to be done, and by God, the government was going to do it. Whether or not it actually solved the problem.
Besides, there was always the faint possibility that the founders had a hand in their imitators.
In the course of several weeks, Charlie and Sarah had gone from confused and angry teenagers to loving soul mates to the focus of a worldwide manhunt. Unless somebody stepped in, they both knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
Their last afternoon of sweetness together, the same day a child was blown to bits by someone they’d inspired, turned out, much like two other lovers in their city, to be their last.
What brought them together had torn them apart as quickly and as easily as they had fallen into bed, and events had made it impossible to ever call back the genie.
Charlie and Sarah, like Thane and Anita, would live and die with the consequences.
1 YEAR, 8 MONTHS AFTER TOWY WEBSITE
From eyewitness accounts and Congressional Transcripts, House Judiciary Sub-Committee on Crime, Terrorism, Homeland Security, and Investigations, the Honorable Elizabeth Ross-Levy presiding:
Ms. Ross-Levy: I would like to welcome everyone back from lunch. Please take your seats. Thank you. Mr. Bronwyn, you reserved the balance of your time, are you ready to proceed?
Mr. Bronwyn: Yes, Madam Chairman.
Ms. Ross-Levy: Thank you. Dr. Matthews, are you ready for a few more questions?
Dr. Matthews: Yes.
Ms. Ross-Levy: Thank you, Doctor. Mr. Bronwyn, you may proceed.
Mr. Bronwyn: Thank you, Madam Chairman. Dr. Matthews, during your previous testimony, you stated that you’d changed your mind regarding the treatment protocols recommended by the World Health Organization, is that correct?
Dr. Matthews: That’s correct.
Mr. Bronwyn: And you’re aware the CDC has adopted the same set of recommendations, as well as the Justice Department?
Dr. Matthews: Yes.
Mr. Bronwyn: May I ask why? You were instrumental in the early adoption of these protocols, for the prevention and treatment of these people, the ones that failed, were you not?
Dr. Matthews: If I might explain –
Mr. Bronwyn: Please, because frankly, I’m baffled.
Dr. Matthews: Of course. When I first met with one of the, as you called them, failures, I was intrigued because he didn’t appear at first to fit the criteria we’d seen in the early cases. All previous cases, actually.
Mr. Bronwyn: How so?
Dr. Matthews: As you know, the initial cases were primarily random, perpetrated by depressed individuals who were, for lack of a better word, ‘inspired’ to bring meaning to their lives –
Mr. Bronwyn: You mean deaths, don’t you doctor?
Dr. Matthews: I suppose you could put it that way.
Mr. Bronwyn: Depressed people who were going to kill themselves anyway. Sometimes due to a terminal illness or what have you, these Towys started killing pedophiles and such before they committed suicide.
Dr. Matthews: Uh…well, yes.
Mr. Bronwyn: Until this one fellah.
Dr. Matthews: Yes. With this particular gentleman, there were no health or mental issues as we’d observed in the initial cases, back when we first realized some of these events were connected. Before the discovery, or I should say, before the websites were known to the authorities, or anyone really, outside the first participants.
Mr. Bronwyn: Participants, Doctor? I’d hardly call cold-blooded murderers ‘participants’.
Dr. Matthews: Whatever you call them, Congressman, this man was different, at least from my past experience.
Mr. Bronwyn: Go on.
Dr. Matthews: I began to look at external factors outside the realm of the physical and psychological. To see if there was another –
Mr. Bronwyn: I’m not following, Doctor. What factors could be affecting these people besides the physical and emotional?
Dr. Matthews: I said outside the physical and psychological, not emotional.
Mr. Bronwyn: Excuse me?
Dr. Matthews: Congressman, if you’d let me finish, I think I can answer all of your questions.
Mr. Bronwyn: Just as long as you understand I’m the one asking them.
(laughter)
Dr. Matthews: Yes sir, of course.
Mr. Bronwyn: Proceed, Doctor.
Dr. Matthews: Thank you. And actually, before I go any further, I’d also like to thank my attorney.
At this point, eyewitness testimony differs slightly. Some said that it was then that Dr. Matthews removed the pen from his breast pocket, and others said it was later, just before the assault, but no one diverged from the main point; it was an exceptionally quick and brutal attack.
Matthews’ attorney, T. Richard Williams, Esq., turned toward his client and smiled awkwardly, apparently taken by surprise, as was everyone else, that he would be tha
nked in that way.
Dr. Matthews: I mean it, Rich. Thank you.
Mr. Williams: Uh, you’re welcome.
(scattered laughter)
At this point, Dr. Matthews turned back to the committee as if the interruption had been the most natural interlude in the world, and resumed his testimony.
Dr. Matthews: This person, whom I will refer to as TOWY P2, was not at all –
Mr. Bronwyn: P2? What does that mean?
Dr. Matthews: Phase two.
Mr. Bronwyn: I’ve never heard of any phase two.
Dr. Matthews: It’s something I haven’t disclosed, dealing with subjects outside the current study group.
Mr. Bronwyn: Why would you feel the need to change the criteria?
Dr. Matthews: That’s what I’m trying to explain.
Mr. Bronwyn: No, Doctor, I think you’re dancing around the issue, here. You’ve pretty much done a one-eighty on these protocols, protocols you helped develop, and I’d like to know why.
Dr. Matthews: Oh, dear. I can see that I’m just going to have to cut to the chase.
Mr. Bronwyn: I think you’d better cut to something.
(laughter)
Ms. Ross-Levy: Dr. Matthews, please just answer the questions.
Mr. Bronwyn: Thank you, Madam Chairman.
Dr. Matthews: Certainly, Madam Chairman.
From eyewitness accounts: It was at this point that Dr. Matthews sighed heavily and either picked up his pen from the table or removed it from his breast pocket, turned to his lawyer, and plunged it into the attorney’s neck, puncturing the carotid artery, sending a fountain of blood spraying toward the members of the sub-committee and the C-SPAN2 witness camera, the live coverage immediately cut.
It wasn’t known whether the chairman of the committee was hit in the face by the stream of blood as so many tasteless Internet rumors insisted, but she did faint and was treated for a concussion as a result of her fall during the subsequent chaos.