Dead Edge

by Jack Ford

  4

  e4 d6

  The call came as no surprise, nor what was said, nor how it was said. Rounded. Meticulous pronunciation intentionally concealing the foreign accent. ‘We had a deal.’

  ‘Not that deal. You know that was never on the table. It’s impossible. I told you that before. I would never and could never agree to it. You know that.’

  ‘What I know is you have to make this happen. However you do that is entirely up to you,’ the caller said.

  ‘I won’t be put in this position.’

  ‘You won’t? Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Abso-goddamn-lutely.’

  There was a pause before the caller said. ‘Then we carry on until you’re persuaded otherwise. Though I am surprised. I would’ve thought the message of bombs and countless dead would be enough to make you realize there’s only one way out of this… The toll of the dead is in your hands.’

  ‘Goddamn you! I gave you all I could.’

  The caller laughed mockingly. ‘No, we gave you all we could. You got what you wanted and now we want something in return.’

  ‘You had it already. There is no more. And you know nothing was ever one sided. What we had was a fair deal. We both know that and we both got what we needed… Look, even if I wanted to do this, what you’re asking is an impossibility. I can’t do it on my own. There are two people needed to make such an action happen. It isn’t just me. It’s not like before.’

  ‘Then you find a way for the other person to see it your way. I don’t think you want a war. I think you have enough of those already… But if it does come to that, it’ll be like nothing you’ve seen before. Hell will be unleashed.’

  ‘And you don’t think there’d be a war, a massive fall-out if I did what you were asking? You do know who he is and what he stands for?’

  The contempt from the caller was palpable. ‘What you say he stands for.’

  ‘What I know he stands for. What you’re asking doesn’t make sense! It’s not in either of our best interests, because we’ll end up coming after you… It can only end one way. Jesus Christ, you gotta see that this will cause a resurgence and reignite everything we’ve fought against for the past few years… I can’t do it. The answer’s no.’

  The caller’s tone was light but heavy with threat. ‘I pride myself on my English but it seems you’re not understanding me clearly. This is not a negotiation. We shall cast terror into the hearts of those who disbelieve. Their habitation is the fire and you will suffer in this life and go to hell in the next.’

  ‘Listen to me and listen carefully…’

  The caller interrupted. ‘No, it’s you who’ll listen… Eventually you’ll realize you need to sacrifice a pawn to continue with the game you started.’

  ‘But it isn’t a pawn, is it? We’re not talking about a pawn.’

  ‘That depends on how you look at it. And in case you think that this is just an empty threat, we have another reminder for you. Hopefully this one will help to persuade you to come to the right decision.’

  ‘You bastard. You don’t have to do this.’

  ‘Look at it this way. At least you’ve got a warning this time… Next Wednesday, the government building. Eighteen forty-five hours. Chatham, Illinois… Do what you think’s right.’

  5

  Nf3 O-O

  ‘What the hell did you think you were doing in there?’

  Earl Edwards slammed Cooper hard against the cool tiles of the court house restroom, reminding Cooper of the fact Earl had been the high school wrestling champion.

  ‘Earl, listen…’

  He slammed again. Only this time harder. High school state champion three years running.

  ‘Don’t. I don’t want to hear any crap coming out of your mouth, Coop. But I do want to know why only one of us was trying back there? It’s always the same with you, Coop. Destroy everything you got going for you. If it’s jail you want to go to, carry on doing what you’re doing.’

  A bald guy on the wrong side of two hundred pounds walked in. Looked at them. Walked right out.

  ‘What do you want me to do, Earl?’

  ‘I want you to let me do my job! And let me tell you something, Coop, you’re not making that easy. Look at you. We’re here to try to convince the court you got it together. That you’re willing to do the programs. But can you do that? The hell you can. You come here so wired I’m surprised you can even hold your head up… Where did that tall, handsome, clean-living guy go to, Coop?’

  This time Cooper slammed Earl hard. Reminding him of the fact he’d been the armed forces wrestling champion… Four years in a row. ‘Don’t pull that one on me, Earl. Not you. I’m trying, okay. Things have been a bit tough lately.’

  ‘Coop, you’re losing it, man. We all get what’s going on. We all feel for you, but when’s it going to stop? You’ve messed up your marriage. You’re messing up your job. And it’s starting all over again.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I’m talking about Ellie.’

  There it was again. The shot. Only this time it wasn’t done with a small-caliber pistol. This time Cooper felt the hit from a Remington pump.

  His breathing was fast. Hard. Short. Shallow. Damn it, he could hardly get his breath.

  ‘What did I say, Earl…? I told you, didn’t I? I made myself real clear… I said, Earl, don’t say her name. But what do you go and do…?’

  Cooper punched his fist into one of the cubicle doors, swinging it wide open. Any other time a guy sitting on the john with his pants round his ankles and a face full of shock might’ve made him smile. Right now, there was nothing funny about anything.

  ‘… You went and said her Goddamn name.’

  Earl shook his head. His left cheek going into tiny pulsating spasms. Always did when he was under stress. Always did when he was about to say something he knew Cooper wasn’t going to like.

  ‘You listen to me right now. You’re freefalling, man. I don’t know exactly what’s happened in the past couple of weeks, but I do know you’re going backwards. We all love you. I don’t know another guy who’s got a big a heart as you do, or is as loyal. But since you got back from the Congo, I don’t recognize you.’

  It was Cooper’s turn to shake his head but he added his hand, interweaving fingers through his strawberry blonde hair. It needed a cut. Hell, when didn’t it? ‘You sound like my wife.’

  ‘I would do if you even had one anymore. And that’s my point. Why throw it away because of…’

  Cooper’s hands pounded into Earl’s chest. He stumbled back. ‘You really going to say her name again?’

  ‘I don’t have to because we both know who we’re talking about. Judge Saunders is right. It’s been almost eight years since the accident. Eight. And you know something, Coop? You’re as dead as she is.’

  Cooper’s fist found Earl’s mouth before he’d decided what he was going to do. It split open like the skins of the fried red tomatoes at Mama’s diner on Main Street.

  ‘What is it with you? What is it with any of you? You of all people, Earl. You really saying that I shouldn’t at least have tried to find her? You think I was wasting my time looking for someone I loved? Do you, Earl? Is that what you think?’

  Cooper watched Earl get up from the floor. Wiped his suit before his mouth. He said, ‘What I think is you need to let it go.’

  Cooper stepped in close. Real close. Close enough to smell the blood on Earl’s lip. ‘I don’t care what you think I need to do, Earl. I don’t care what the others think. But for your information, I have given up on it… on finding her, but the guilt… the guilt, Earl, it kills me. From the moment I open my eyes to the time I go to sleep.’

  ‘Coop, listen… ’

  Earl stretched out his arms, with his six-foot frame three inches shorter than Cooper’s. Giving Cooper that look which cut him down like a cotton plant at harvest back in Missouri. The look which told Cooper he was being unreasonable. The look Earl
had given him when they’d had their first fight back in high school over twenty-five years ago. And like then, Cooper knew Earl was right. But like then, Cooper pushed those feelings away and looked right past him.

  ‘Coop, come on. This is me. Earl. What you trying to do? Drive me away? Because that’s never going to happen. Come on, dude. I’m your friend.’

  ‘If you’re my friend, you’ll get off my back.’ He opened the restroom door to go.

  ‘Coop!’

  It took five paces along the highly polished floor of the court house corridor before Cooper turned round. Five paces and one thought…

  ‘Earl, I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but…’

  Interrupting, Earl glanced at his inexpensive wristwatch. ‘Shut the hell up and listen. We haven’t got time. There’s many a bar in town and many a beer we can do this over, but for now we gotta put everything aside and work out how we’re going to keep you out of jail. You’ve given Judge Saunders all the ammo he needs. So we gotta have a plan when we go back in there… Coop…! Coop! What the hell are you doing?’

  Cooper lurched forward and grabbed hold of the woman who’d just hurried past him in her tight cream suit and curls done up too high. ‘Ma’am, what did you say to that man?’

  She looked flustered and affronted all at once. ‘What?’

  ‘To that man back there… I heard you say something. I need you to repeat what you’ve just said.’

  Maybe it was because she heard something in Cooper’s voice, or it was the fact he was still holding onto her arm, but she answered. Real quickly. As quickly as Earl had done back in the courtroom to the judge.

  ‘I… I heard on the news. There’s been a bomb. Suicide bombers apparently. Several in fact. Also shootings. Lots of people dead. Memphis, Washington… Denver. Apparently they’re saying the President was there.’

  ‘Where? Where was he?’

  ‘He was in Denver when one of the blasts went off. They said on the news he was visiting an elementary school…’

  Cooper shook her as if trying to shake the words right out of her rouged mouth. He said. ‘What else?’

  ‘I… I… I don’t know.’

  ‘But is he okay?’

  ‘I don’t know… I guess.’

  ‘But you don’t know? You don’t know for sure?’

  ‘No… No… They didn’t say.’

  Cooper didn’t even bother looking at Earl. Just ran. Heard him calling after him. Didn’t stop. Didn’t turn. He needed to go. And fast. Problem was he’d forgotten how fast his friend was.

  Earl caught up with a heavy pant. Holding onto Cooper as they stood under the glass dome of the Jeffco court house.

  ‘Coop, what’s going on? What the hell are you doing? Where are you going?’

  Cooper couldn’t see for the sweat which ran down his face in rivulets. ‘Let go of me, Earl. I gotta go.’

  ‘Is this something to do with the President?’

  ‘I’ll call you. I swear.’

  Earl’s words followed Cooper. Landing on nothing but the still, dry heat of the afternoon.

  ‘Don’t bother… You hear me, Coop…? Don’t you bother!’

  6

  Be2 e5

  The hard concrete of Jefferson County Parkway pounded through Cooper’s sneakers. Pounding through his head as he sprinted along the tree-lined sidewalk. Pulled down heavy from the drugs whilst the Colorado sun scorched a pattern of fire on his back. Parked car after parked car. Empty vehicle after empty vehicle fuelling his alarm.

  He stumbled as he ran, looking for a cab in the deserted streets and not realizing the loud cry for help he’d heard had come from him, until the call of panic cut at the back of his throat. The only thought making sense to Cooper was somehow he had to make the twelve mile trip to Denver.

  The sound of a car, an engine, had Cooper spinning round. He squinted. Shielded his eyes from the sun. And there on the other side of the road, driving down the public highway, like water to a thirsty coyote, was a rusting grey Honda.

  Cooper exhaled. Long. Hard. Tasting every second of the relief because although the driver didn’t know it yet, Cooper knew that car was going to be his one-way ticket to Denver.

  Quickly he darted across the middle section. Scrabbling up and along as the Honda began to drive past him. Briefly Cooper thought about hailing, waving the guy down like he was summoning a yellow Checker taxi in NYC. But for once, sense kept his mouth shut and his hand firmly by his side. His mind was messed up, but even he wasn’t going to bet on the driver stopping for a sweat drenched, wild-eyed guy.

  Cooper dug for an energy he wasn’t sure he had, trying to push himself forward, feeling the burn of his legs as he ran to get in front of the station wagon.

  He dived.

  Threw himself round in a one eighty.

  Closed his eyes.

  Heard the slamming of brakes accompanied by the noise of the horn which told him he was still alive.

  He peeled his fingers off the burning hot metal of the hood, thumping his fist on top of the roof to counteract the pain, then watched as the driver’s eyes welled with terror. Three hundred and twenty pounds of fear. His stunned deliberation – as to whether to risk driving off or not – costing him, giving Cooper the chance to fling open the door.

  ‘Hey, sir, how’s it goin’?’

  The gaping mouth full of nachos and the remains of a cheese dip on his lap made Cooper feel bad for the guy.

  ‘Here’s the thing, sir. I need your help. I’m not going to hurt you but I need to borrow your car.’

  The guy started choking. Real hard. Guacamole-colored saliva dripped from his mouth and onto his chin. He gave no words to Cooper, just nodded like a marionette on a string, his jowls wet with drool as he cowered from the hard pat on his back from Cooper.

  ‘Look, it’ll be okay… My name’s Thomas J. Cooper. If you go inside the court, ask for an Earl Edwards. He’s my attorney. He’ll vouch for me… I will return your car, sir. But hey, you can always ride along with me if you’re concerned that I won’t bring it back. Or if you prefer, you can always get out here.’

  Cooper didn’t blame the guy. Heck, he didn’t blame him at all, though he reckoned it was the fastest the Guacamole guy had run since high school.

  7

  O-O Nc6

  Cooper put his foot down and drove. Over the mid-section of Weimer Street. Over the sidewalk of Johnson Road. Over anything that got in his path. Swerving. Weaving through traffic. Keeping his eyes out for the cops as he sped down the freeway towards Denver.

  Sign read, 60.

  Speedometer read, eighty-five.

  Sign read, Do Not Pass.

  Cooper undertook using the shoulder.

  Whatever it took to get there.

  Trickles of sweat bled between his fingers, causing his hand to slip as he jabbed at the radio buttons trying to listen to the news of the unfolding events. To anything which would tell him where. How. But as for why, he needed to leave that one for another day.

  *

  Fifteen minutes in and Cooper was gripping onto the Honda’s steering wheel as if he had it in some kind of neck lock. Keeping it from running right out from under him. He was wired and if the drugs had worn off he couldn’t tell. The adrenalin hitting him harder than any handful of OxyContin ever could.

  A couple of hundred yards past the Denver health center at the top of Bannock street, the crowd worked better than any satnav could, showing Cooper he’d arrived at his destination. A phalanx of the bewildered, of the traumatized, of cops, of news anchors, formed and filled the street.

  Not bothering for the car to stop fully, nor waiting to turn off the engine, Cooper opened the door. Jumped out and raced into the crowds, pushing through, ramming and wedging himself towards the front.

  ‘Move it…! Move it…! Get the hell out of my way!’

  He gave loan of his emotions to a stranger, turning and yelling in his face as if so
mehow it was he who’d caused this pain… Panic. Terror inside him.

  ‘Did the bomb go off here…? Where’s the President…? Is he still in the school…? Answer me, dammit.’

  The dark-haired stranger’s head lolled back and forth as Cooper held his shoulders. Tight. Shaking. Hell, he just wanted answers and he didn’t care how he was going to get them.

  ‘No…’

  That was all he needed. Didn’t need more. More would’ve cost time.

  Frantically, Cooper ran back to the car, and without looking to see if anyone was in his way the Honda burnt up rubber as he reversed the car, taking it into a J-turn.

  Clutch in.

  Clutch out.

  Shift to first.

  Up and along the side walk, over the mound, banging the gears full throttle. Didn’t know where he was going but wherever it was he knew he had to find it.

  Within five minutes, Cooper had got himself back on the highway and beyond, forcing the rusting station wagon well outside its limits. Sun in his eyes. Pain behind them. A migraine screwing in. He pressed his palm against them to stop the throb. Took his hands off the wheel for only a moment. But he knew that’s all it took.

  The Honda swerved, running onto the grassland like a breakaway horse. Smashing and slamming the axle along the rock scattered terrain, dragging the steering off balance as the brakes began to lock.

  Fighting to regain control, Cooper drove into a snaking skid whilst the mismatched tires ploughed up the prairies. And although it took less than a minute to pull up sharp, for the second time that day, he trembled as he exhaled. Real long. Real hard.