“No shit?”
“Everybody does their job. Nobody’s late, never complains.”
“Have you met Al yet?”
“Nope. Why?”
“He has a house, just like the sheriff. He brags so much, he never shuts up.”
Henry heard a sound outside.
“Shh,” Leland whispered. “That’ll be Al.”
Al crossed the threshold, Henry recognized his distinctive profile as the third man at the mayor’s house last night. Al had white hair and a square nose.
“Hi, guys.” Al smiled and shook Henry’s hand. “You must be Henry. I’m Al. The mayor’s already taken a liking to you.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, he talked about you last night. He liked the way you handled that brigand.”
“It’s good to be liked by the boss. Right?”
“Sure is, but take my advice. Don’t be a pussy. Just remember how much harder life would be living outside the walls.”
"Of course. But hey, I've got to go to bed, I've been up all night and have another graveyard shift coming up tonight. Have a good day."
Henry walked home, hoping he would be able to get some sleep. He saw a sign posted on the path, which he stopped to read.
LABOR DAY. Under order of the mayor, tomorrow is a day of rest. The Labor Day holiday honors the hard work of the citizens of Litogot. Packaged food has been distributed as the kitchen will be closed. The school will be closed also. Parents with young children need to supervise their own. Regular work resumes the following day. The mayor selected a present just for you. Thanks for your service to the Litogot Township.
In his apartment he noticed a note and box on the kitchen table.
Dear Henry. I’m pleased you decided to stay at Litogot. I think I can trust you and work with you. I’m sorry to ask but I still need you to guard my house tonight. The sentry will be manned as well. Your wife can enjoy her holiday with your son and I’ve given her a separate present. Please accept this small gift as a token of my appreciation. Sincerely, Willis.
Henry lifted the lid to examine the present. He’d received a new pipe, tin of tobacco, wax-sealed cheese, chocolate bars, a cracker box, and a bottle of red wine. He wondered if getting this stuff was going to make what he had to do worth it?
* * *
Henry stood on the front steps of the mayor’s house, looking toward the town square. Recorded music bounced off the tall walls and people danced stiffly on a makeshift dance floor. He turned and locked the front door behind him. No curfew tonight, and the mayor wasn’t home.
Walking through the back of the house, he passed three windows; one of them caught his attention. The middle one had a broken latch. He found an open door and it surprised him to find the room lit by an electric lightbulb. Strange, he should be alone in the house.
What in the hell could he be looking at? The room was dominated by a large wooden table approximately twelve square feet. A model train, a miniature wood slat fence with tiny replica buildings inside, and a central path ending at the mayor’s little yellow house. Litogot Township!
He crouched low, peering inside the back of the three levels of the mayor’s house. The bottom level consisted of the replica train room in minute detail, even down to a smaller model train on a tiny replica table. Each building and the train were recreated in tiny detail. A tiny table maybe two inches square? The long hallway connected through the lobby to the front door. The perimeter fence ran along the back of the small house and he noticed the town’s tiny gate. His eyes scanned the second level. He saw an office, den, kitchen, and dining room. On the third level he saw a bathroom and master and spare bedrooms. Of the rooms he’d been inside at the mayor’s house so far, the tiny replica copied each feature of the real thing. Every stick of furniture, lamp, plate, shade, and rug were exactly the same.
Unsettled, a chill ran up his spine. Wanting to leave, something made him stop. He saw two boxes installed in the wall beside the door—a recessed breaker box on one side and a solid metal locking cabinet on the other. A safe, perhaps? Henry didn't know.
How about this shit? The mayor was a weird dude with a weird hobby. Shouldn’t he just be grateful his family could be safe behind the walls, and off the road? Henry couldn’t help but think the townsfolk acted strangely. Not unusual, but nobody here made mistakes. What the hell was wrong with Alison? She knew what accepting that dinner invitation had meant. Why did they need a distillery? Nobody even drank any fucking alcohol.
How different life had been before the Die Back. Why couldn’t things be like before? Even here, safe inside the walls, he’d never shake the memory of that smell. The overwhelming scent of death, cities like boneyards with bodies stacked like cordwood. No, things would never be the same again. Litigot was so fucking weird because they were as scared as he was. But even that couldn’t fully explain it. Yeah, all right, he was out of sorts, maladjusted by it all. He'd hid after the collapse. Living in a society was hard. He’d been alone for how long? He didn’t know, without a watch or calendar.
Then, eight miserable seasons after death stopped claiming the living, a few distant communities came together. But in place after place, the story always ended up the same way. Food ran out, brigands attacked, or people couldn’t stand living together again after what they’d gone through. Not here. Not Litogot.
Henry left the hobby room, walked toward the lobby. He looked out the window at the celebration outside. The music stopped, the lights snapped off, and people left the party, shuffling strangely. What gives and why do these people act so fucking weird? He heard footfalls and the door unlocked. The mayor walked in with Alison. They passed him and went upstairs. Moments later the sheriff showed up too.
“Make sure the mayor gets into bed safe,” the sheriff said. “He’s had a few too many.”
“Yes, sir.”
The sheriff stumbled away, unsteady on his feet. He heard the mayor and Alison climb the back steps to the third floor bedroom.
Damn it. Leland’s his best friend. What a cold bitch. Henry helped himself to a stiff drink from the mayor’s stock. Outside, he thought he saw a figure move. Yes, a man approached the door, which he opened.
“Leland?”
It was his best friend and it was obvious he'd been crying.
“Come on, stop that.” Henry hugged him. “Hey, I’m sorry.”
“She’s my wife.”
“Yeah, but you don’t own her.”
“I can’t stand it. I never get to see you and she’s gone too. I’m pretty sure she’s going to move out.”
“Really?”
“Can I have a glass of water?”
“Of course.”
Henry closed the door, walked to the bar and reached for the water carafe. Before he realized what happened, Leland darted to the back of the house.
“Leland!”
He dropped the glass and it shattered. By the time he reached the top, Leland had kicked in the bedroom door.
“How could you do this to me?” Leland screamed. “You fucking bitch, I hate you!”
“Henry!” The mayor stood in front of Allison, wearing only his underwear, she was naked.
Then, Henry noticed a pistol pointed at Leland’s head. He inched closer but stayed out of the line of fire. “Everybody needs to relax.”
“Relax? This creep is fucking my wife!”
“Yeah, come on. Let’s go back downstairs.”
“How did he get in here, Henry?” The mayor’s voice trembled.
Great, he was going to get kicked out or shot, maybe both. He tried to pull Leland away by the shoulder.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
Henry tucked his body behind the door jam.
“Get out of here!” the mayor shouted.
“Get out of here,” Alison said, flat and cold.
“You’re the last person to tell me what to do!” Leland took several steps closer to the mayor. The sound of a shot ricocheted through the house. Henry smelled
gun smoke, singed skin, and the copper smell of blood. “Fuck, Willis! You shot him.” He stood in the doorway, looking at Leland’s body.
Alison screamed. She threw herself into the mayor, flailing her arms. Henry was shocked seeing her shake off her torpor. The mayor held the gun aside but she almost knocked it out of his hand.
“Shoot her!” The mayor yelled.
“No fucking way; I’m not shooting her.”
His eyes followed the barrel, swinging back and forth. By now Alison knocked Willis to the bed and fell on top. Henry wanted to go in and disarm him but they were rolling around too much. In a split second another shot rang out.
Both of them were in a limp heap on the bed. As Henry reached for his rifle, Alison’s body rolled off and fell onto the floor with a thud. She landed face up, her mouth slack and her eyes glassy.
“It’s ugly sometimes, being responsible for all this.” The mayor pointed his pistol at Henry’s head. “I’ve had to make tough decisions. This wasn’t the first.”
He couldn’t believe the mayor acted so casually. Henry backed up with his hands at his sides, trying not to make any sudden moves. The mayor advanced step by step.
“You, on the other hand, might still be salvageable. I felt it the first moment I met you. You’re strong. I need a man like you, more than you know. I don’t need you to decide tonight, anyway. I’m going to lock you away for a while. Drop the gun and slide it under the bed.”
“Lock me away?” Henry slipped off the strap and slid the rifle away.
“Yeah. Ed’s got a jail cell in his basement. We made it with rebar and padlocks. Turn around.” He knew the pistol remained pointed at his head. “Go ahead, we’re walking to Ed’s house.”
They left the mayor’s house and walked a short distance to the sheriff’s. If his wife and son didn't know where he was, what would happen to them? The situation crystalized in his mind. Certainly, he wouldn’t act until the right time. He knew from his military training that timing was everything. So whatever it took, he would damn well set himself free and protect his family. He turned the handle, the door swung open and they entered a bedroom. The sheriff lay in bed, snoring, and the mayor shook him awake.
“Wha’?” Startled, the sheriff responded fast by flipping over.
“We’ve got two bodies to dump in the woods.”
“How did—”
“Where are your zip-ties?”
“My pants.” The sheriff threw off the bedsheet and stood up.
The mayor handed the sheriff a pair of zip-ties. He said, “Put these on him,” then stood back, with his gun pointed. The two men in their underwear held Henry. Motionless, he let the sheriff place the zip-ties over his wrists.
The mayor spoke before leaving. “Put him in the cell in your basement, then come right over. I want the bodies gone before dawn.”
The outer door closed. Henry froze. He watched the sheriff pull on his pants. As his captor pulled a shirt over his head, Henry decided he had to take this chance. He slammed the zip-tie as hard as he could on his knee. It snapped open! While the sheriff tried to react, he caught him up in a chokehold. Henry held the struggling sheriff until he stopped moving and just another minute to be sure.
He dragged the limp man downstairs into a makeshift jail cell. Just like he’d been told, the rebar door locked with a padlock.
Henry returned to the mayor’s house. The broken window on the back door had already been covered with plywood. He checked the latches on the three back windows, confirming that one of them was indeed broken. He slid it open, climbed in. He crouched in the dark for a few moments to make sure no one had heard anything before creeping straight up to the top floor.
No mayor anywhere in sight, only the bodies of his good friends. But he did see the pistol. Checking that it was still loaded, he put in his belt loop. The mayor must be in the room with his weird-ass toy set. So Henry went back down and found the mayor hunched over the replica town. He hid in the dark hallway and watched him through the open door, standing still and silent.
With the back of the tiny yellow house flipped open, the mayor plucked out a male and female doll and placed them in his palm. Even in the dark, Henry knew he held the Leland and Alison figurines. Behind the house, in the forest of trees carved from balsa flecked with green moss, he shoved a smudge of crumbled cork aside. The nude female was flecked with blood splatters. He placed the figurines in a trough and covered them with a little pile of cork.
The mayor cocked his head to one side and looked through a tiny window in the sheriff’s house. His placid face transformed into a scowl. He lifted the sheriff’s house off the foundation, set it aside, and checked the basement. He lifted the tiny jail cell in his palm and squinted close up. Inspecting the replica rebar jail cell, the mayor sneered at the sheriff, who lay on a cot in his underwear. “How the hell did you get in there?” His mouth dropped open as the little jail cell clattered to the table. He patted his pants pockets.
“Shit! I left my gun upstairs.”
“Don’t worry, I have it.” Henry pointed the pistol at the mayor as he advanced toward him out of the shadows.
“How did you get in here?”
“The latch on the downstairs window is broken.”
The mayor’s upper lip trembled. “Please. Don’t shoot me.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t?”
“I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I could just take it.” Henry shrugged. "I’m a killer. You said it yourself, you saw something you liked the first time you met me.”
“No . . . please?” The mayor held his hands in front of his chest.
“Move over.”
Henry motioned him aside and circled the table. He looked into the open top of the replica mayor's house. There were tiny blood spatters and a small glossy puddle of blood on the carpet in the upper bedroom. He touched it with his finger; it felt wet. To the right, he looked at the grate where water flowed into town via the aqueduct. He pointed to a doll and cart loaded with large glass bottles. He remembered seeing the same glass bottles filled with clear liquid the day before when he spoke with Leland in the distillery.
“This is Al. What are you putting in the water?”
“N-n-nothing.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
The mayor’s eye fleetingly landed on a table piled with books, looking away immediately.
“This?” Henry picked up an old book with a crumbling leather cover and read the title page. “High Magic Spells and Potions.”
“That’s mine!” Was he going to start crying?
“You know, so much makes sense now. You're not strong, you haven’t been elected and you aren’t good with people. I should’ve known Alison couldn’t desire you. Wish I could’ve figured it out before Leland died.”
"I’ll show you everything . . . you're a natural leader. We can work together. What do you think?"
“How do you keep them under your spell?”
Mayor Litogot looked at the door, like he wanted to leave. Yeah, no. Then Henry noticed him looking at the safe box across from the breaker box. Of course. "Give me the key to the cabinet." He took several quick steps toward the mayor.
"No!"
"I said, give me the fucking key!"
"No!"
The second time the mayor said it, his voice cracked and he cowered, with his hands covering his face.
"All right, have it your way.”
Henry grabbed the mayor by the collar and belt loops and swung him into the corner. Willis crashed into the wall and landed in a whimpering heap. Henry stuck his hand into the mayor’s pocket and felt something metal. He pulled out the key and unlocked the wall cabinet next to the door.
"No way!"
The miniature figure looked just like Willis Litogot. The same hawkish nose and beady eyes. He was thin, dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt and black pants.
"Don't touch him!" the mayor screamed, pleadingly.
Holding the d
oll between his thumb and forefinger, he placed it on the table top. All the little dolls on the table came to life. They unloaded crates from the train, drove toy trucks, walked the path and entered tiny buildings. Henry inched nearer and brought his face close to peer over the perimeter fence.
"No way! They're talking."
With his face close to the replica town, he could make out their tiny faces. Eyes blinked and mouths moved. The plastic flesh tone resembled human skin. Their hair ruffled and their clothes moved, like any regular person's would. Their tiny chests expanded, breathing real air!
"You did this—it's some kind of crazy magic."
"Just leave. I'll give you whatever you want and you won't have to work anymore. I can give you anything—"
That’s it! A thought came to Henry which helped all of it to make sense. He crouched low to look in the model train room of the mayor’s tiny replica house. There he was. Henry, in miniature. Himself. The same hair, thick stubble, and sturdy build. The doll gestured and talked, looking straight at him, motioned for him to come closer.
“What?” Henry said.
The doll motioned again with his tiny finger. His little lips formed the word: closer.
He grasped the doll and brought it up to his ear, listening to a tiny voice.
“There can only be one mayor.”
The doll pointed to the recessed cabinet and motioned to return him to the mayor’s house of the replica town. The full-size mayor lay on the floor, trying to sit up, rubbing his sore neck.
“Is this how it works?”
The flat of Henry’s palm hovered over the tiny figure of Willis Litogot unaware of a giant hand above him.
"No! Please don’t—"
Henry swatted the tiny figure, with his hand, into the fake felted green grass. Squashed, like a bug.
He lifted his palm and inspected the underside, where a rivulet of blood trailed down his wrist. He wiped the smudge on his pants. He returned his attention back to the full-sized mayor and leaned over him. The mayor’s breath was shallow and spit bubbles that dribbled onto his chin. His arms, legs, and neck were contorted into a ghastly position. When he'd smashed the little doll it had the exact same effect on the man, it nearly killed him! Shoot him, in the back of the head. Put him out of his misery. You know what? Nah, don’t bother.
Enter the Rebirth (Enter the... Book 3) Page 9