Desperate Times Three - Revolution

Home > Fiction > Desperate Times Three - Revolution > Page 9
Desperate Times Three - Revolution Page 9

by Nicholas Antinozzi


  “Ten seconds.”

  “Off the record,” Thrill said. “I wish this wasn’t necessary.”

  Jimmy sat back in his chair and thought about that. The comment had blind-sided him, and it suddenly put things in a different light. He checked himself and decided to follow Ken’s lead and see where it took them.

  “Good afternoon, America,” Thrill said, staring into the camera with the utmost sincerity. “I’m Thrill Melbow, as if you didn’t already know that. We’re here today with Ken Dahlgren and Jimmy Logan, who I am certain you are familiar with. I’ve been summoned to help set the record straight, and for the next hour, we’re going to hear these men tell their story in their own words. Those of you with small children might want to get them out of the room. This is not a story for the young or the faint of heart.”

  Jimmy watched as Thrill sipped from a glass of water. He looked down at his notes and sat back in his chair. “President Richter has pardoned these men, these hardened killers who have admitted to murdering over two hundred people over the course of twenty months. How can this be, you ask? That’s what we’re about to find out. Tell me, Ken, do you mind if I call you Ken? Of course you don’t. How long had you been planning your escape from society, and what on earth were you thinking when you went on your killing spree?”

  The fire was suddenly back in Ken’s eyes, and he gritted his teeth as he spoke. “Thrill,” he said, pointing his finger across the table. “You don’t mind if I call you Thrill, do you? Of course you don’t. My wife, Patty, and I saw the collapse coming years before it happened. We owned a business, and we were fortunate enough to have the means to set some things aside in case of a worst-case scenario.”

  “Things like illegal automatic weapons and hand grenades?” asked Thrill, interrupting Ken.

  “I was getting to that,” replied Ken, the thick vein pulsing in his neck. “We planned for a time where we might have to defend ourselves against an attack from outside forces.”

  “You mean your neighbors, is that right?”

  “I mean against anyone who wanted to take what we had. These people had other options. They could have gone along with the National Guard and rode things out in a relocation camp.”

  “Just like yourself. Let’s be clear about that. You and your friends were breaking the law by not turning yourselves in and reporting to a local camp. Have you always felt as if you were above the law, Ken?”

  Ken balled his hands into fists and thumped them down on the table. “We did not break the law. No one has the right to imprison me, my friends, or family, without just cause. We had every right to be where we were.”

  Thrill smiled smugly and sat back in his chair. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ken. You did not have that right. An Executive Order was issued to all Americans to report to these camps. They were created for the sole purpose of protecting people from men, such as you and your sidekick. How many people did you gun down, anyway? Don’t worry; you’ve already been pardoned. I think America has a right to know.”

  Jimmy held his hands up. “What type of government jails all of its citizens? Tell me, Thrill, where did you spend the last twenty months?”

  “We’re not here to talk about me,” Thrill said, dismissively. “Jimmy, are you saying that you no longer wish to be an American citizen?”

  “I never said that,” Jimmy spat. “What Ken and I are trying to say is that we did nothing wrong. We simply defended ourselves when we were attacked.”

  “At last count they had dug up over two hundred bodies. How can you possibly justify that? President Richter may have pardoned you, but don’t expect to be forgiven so quickly by the American people. Tell me about the automatic weapons and hand grenades, Jimmy. Did using them against your fellow man make you feel superior to them? Did you enjoy killing your neighbors?”

  “Jimmy had nothing to do with those weapons,” interjected Ken. “I purchased them, and I’m damn glad that I did. Where was our protection when we needed it? We were attacked by people who tried to take what we had. Can’t you see that?”

  “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” retorted Thrill, pointing a stodgy finger across the table and waving it at the both of them. “You were there illegally, in direct defiance of an Executive Order, because you thought you were above the law! You had no right to murder your neighbors when they came to you for help. My God, gentlemen, what part of that don’t you understand?”

  “They weren’t asking for help,” Ken shot back. “They wanted everything we had, and they wanted us dead. Quit spouting off about Executive Orders. No man has the right to imprison me without just cause! This is America, damn it!”

  Thrill nodded and stared into the camera. “Don’t move away from your television sets, America. We’ll be right back after these commercial messages from our sponsors.”

  The lights dimmed, and Jimmy watched as a big smile crept across the face of their host. He nodded to the room with unabashed arrogance and stood up from his chair. Jimmy started to say something, but Ken stuck his finger in his chest. “Don’t,” he hissed. “Save it for the cameras. I can’t believe this. What a bunch of bullshit.”

  Thrill leered at them from across the table. “You may be right, but its damn good television.”

  Chapter 14

  “We have before us the opportunity to forge for ourselves and for future generations a new world order, a world where the rule of law, not the rule of the jungle, governs the conduct of nations. When we are successful, and we will be, we have a real chance at this new world order, an order in which a credible United Nations can use its peacekeeping role to fulfill the promise and vision of the U.N.’s founders.” – George H.W. Bush

  Bill

  Bill awoke early that morning to the sound of hushed voices. Something told him to keep his eyes closed and listen, which is just what he did.

  “They called her a useless eater,” whispered the voice of a young woman. “I couldn’t let that animal dissect her alive. That’s why I pulled the fire alarm.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” asked the distinctive voice of Dr. Chen. “You could have gotten yourself in serious trouble by doing that. Times have changed, Sonya. We have to change along with them.”

  “But I went to her room last night. She was able to answer questions. She responded to me. That woman is not brain dead. She knew exactly what was about to happen.”

  “You must have been imagining that. I have examined her myself. She had no detectable brain function.”

  “Maybe she didn’t when you last saw her, but she’s coming out of it. Uncle, don’t you see? We have to save her.”

  There was a long period of silence as Bill heard footsteps pacing inside his room. “There is nothing we can do for her. I’m sorry, Sonya. We can’t get emotionally involved in this. I have told you thousand times—this is a new world we live in. Things aren’t the same. We have to follow along or else we will find ourselves out on the street.”

  “I don’t care about what happens to me. The time has come to fight, and with or without your help, I’m getting that woman out of here. I have a place we can go while she gets better.”

  “Sonya, will you listen to yourself? This is crazy talk and I will not listen to it.”

  “Her husband is a hero. Doesn’t that count for something? This world needs more men like Ken Dahlgren.”

  Bill shot up in bed and pointed a finger at Sonya. “Tell me all you know,” he hissed. “By God, I’ll do anything I can do to help you. Get in my way, Chen, and I’ll snap your goddamn neck. Do you understand me? Those people are my friends. We’re going to get Patty out of this hellhole and we’re going to do it, now.”

  Chapter 15

  “By the skillful and sustained use of propaganda, one can make people see even heaven as hell, or an extremely wretched life as paradise.” – Adolph Hitler

  One floor above Julie in an identical room, Patty Dahlgren studied her own bleak situation and prayed like she had never praye
d before. She had been saved once, but her reprieve seemed all too temporary, and she knew that her only hope was to get out of this terrible place. That man was going to dissect me alive, Patty thought, which sent a chill up her spine. What type of world did we come back to?

  She thought of Ken and wondered how he and the others were doing. She was happy that he didn’t have to see her like this. Today had been another good day; she was certain that she had been able to wiggle her toes. Slowly, she was regaining the use of her limbs, and she knew that if they’d just give her some time, she was on the road to recovery. Her mind was clear and sharp, and if she could only speak she would give that doctor a piece of it.

  The door to her room suddenly burst open, and she heard hushed voices. Patty’s heart fell as she was certain they were about to take her back to that classroom and carve her up like a Thanksgiving Day turkey.

  And suddenly Bill Huggins was staring down into her eyes. “Patty?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  Patty blinked her eyes as rapidly as she could and watched Bill’s face light up. He was standing and she wondered how that was possible. He seemed to read her thoughts.

  “I got a new leg, Patty,” he gushed. “And it’s bionic. Look! She knows we’re here!” he said, triumphantly. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  One question burned inside her head. Patty summoned up every ounce of strength and willed herself to whisper it out loud. “Ken?” she asked, amazing herself with the accomplishment.

  Bill was suddenly pushed out of the way, and an Oriental man was hovering over her. “Dear God,” he whispered. “I am so sorry. Stay calm and save your strength. Sonya, you’ll have to help me lift her onto gurney.”

  “I can do it,” said Bill.

  “No, I’d rather have Sonya help me.”

  “What, you don’t think that I’m stronger than a girl?”

  “You have bad back and new leg. I am not going to argue with you, Bill. You gather up your friend’s things and put them into bag. We don’t have much time.”

  Patty suddenly found herself staring into the brown eyes of a young woman. She smiled back at her, reassuringly. Patty could see why Bill had stood his ground. She doubted the girl weighed even a hundred pounds, which was about half of her own weight. The young Asian woman quietly leveled out the bed and the next thing Patty knew, the woman had slipped her hands underneath her and quickly slid her onto the waiting gurney.

  “I’m stronger than I look,” the girl called Sonya said to Patty.

  “So am I,” retorted Bill. “I could’ve done that.”

  Patty rolled her eyes.

  “Do you have everything? There, on the table. She will need her glasses. Come on, Bill. We have to go,” said the small man in the white lab coat.

  “I was getting there. Do you think I’m stupid? Don’t worry about me.”

  Patty could see the exasperated look on the girl’s face as she watched Bill, a look she knew all too well. A moment later they were wheeling her out into the brightly lit corridor, and soon they seemed to be flying down the narrow hallway. Patty’s joy at being rescued was tempered only by her fear that they would be caught. One of the wheels on the gurney squealed like it needed grease, and the sound seemed to be amplified by the narrow passageway. They banged through a set of double doors, followed by another. They were suddenly at the back of a white van, and the Oriental man threw open the back doors.

  “Where is he?” he asked.

  “I thought he was right behind me,” Patty heard the young woman say.

  “He drives me crazy. Come on, let’s get her inside. You ready?”

  “Hold it right there!” ordered a man’s deep voice from somewhere behind them. “Where the hell do you think you’re going with that patient?”

  One look at her new friends was all that Patty needed to know that her escape had been foiled. She groaned and felt hot tears stinging her eyes. Two stern-looking men in black uniforms were suddenly taking the pair by the arms.

  “You two are in a lot of trouble,” the voice said. “I’m very disappointed in you, Dr. Chen. You too, Sonya. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “How could you have possibly known?” Sonya asked.

  The man laughed at that. “You can thank your fat friend. He made a wrong turn and limped right into the security office.”

  “Let me go,” demanded Bill from somewhere behind them. “You have no right to hold me!”

  “Bring this one back to her room and lock up these three up,” ordered the deep voice. “I’ve got to make some phone calls, and I just know there’s going to be a mountain of paperwork to fill out. Damn it, I’m supposed to be home in an hour.”

  “No!” screamed Patty, suddenly finding her voice for the first time in so many months. “I want to go home!”

  Patty Dahlgren would never see either of her homes, ever again.

  Patty quickly found herself back inside her little room, but they hadn’t bothered putting her back into bed. Time passed slowly as her mind raced in a million different directions. She found that she could open and close her right hand, and she had even been able to raise her right knee for a few seconds. She was making progress; there was no doubting that. She was proud of her accomplishments, small that they were, and she couldn’t wait to show her doctors that they had been wrong in their diagnosis. She was no useless eater.

  After what may have been two hours or four, Patty heard hushed voices from outside her door. She strained her ears, but caught only the barest fragments of words. She opened and closed her mouth, stretching her jaw muscles, and prayed that they wouldn’t let her down. There was a quick rap on the steel door, and Dr. Botch walked into her room. He leaned down and looked into her eyes.

  “Hello,” whispered Patty.

  Dr. Botch blinked hard and stood back. “Hello,” he said. “I had heard that you were speaking. I just wanted to see it for myself. I’d say that it is nothing short of a medical miracle.”

  “Good.”

  Dr. Botch scratched his head and smiled. “Yes… And no,” he said, sitting down on the edge of Patty’s hospital bed and crossing his arms. “Look, I don’t make up the rules around here. I do what I’ve been hired to do and if the man asks me to jump, I jump. Do you understand that? I have a wife and four growing boys at home. They need me.”

  Patty concentrated and was rewarded by a solemn nod of her head. “Yes.”

  “I have a big mortgage and two car payments and insurance is killing me. My kids eat five hundred dollars of groceries a week, and gas is still sixty bucks a gallon. Am I getting through to you?”

  “Yes,” Patty replied, softly. She wondered why this doctor was giving her his life story. Was he trying to make a point? She didn’t know. She certainly hoped that he wasn’t.

  Dr. Botch took off his glasses and cleaned them with a tissue from the little box on her nightstand. “Next spring I am taking them all on a European vacation. Do you have any idea how much that costs? I get paid quite well for what I do, and I’m not about to give it up because of some ancient code of ethics. The money I am paid goes directly back into the economy, and everyone benefits from that. Patty, think about this. If we were to save you, what do you bring from your end? What do you have to offer us? That’s right… nothing.”

  “That’s not…true.”

  “Oh, it is true and somewhere inside of you, you know that. And beyond all of that, we have four patients waiting for you to give them life. You have a healthy body, and they want to thank you for taking such good care of it. There is a young man upstairs waiting to be able to see his wife for the very first time. A mother of three is in need of a liver, and a police officer and a young boy need kidneys. Do I need to go on?”

  Patty felt her jaw drop, and she clenched her fist.

  “A doctor, Patty, a doctor needs a heart, and think of all of the good he can do once he recovers from the transplant. How can you put yourself above that? Don’t you
believe in God?”

  The last question was like a bomb going off inside Patty’s head. She could feel her pulse quicken until her heart threatened to explode. She thought of what the man was trying to say. Still, she had purpose, and she tried to explain. “Ken?”

  “Your husband?” Botch snickered. “He’s too busy giving interviews to be worried about you. He’s become quite the celebrity.”

  Patty’s eyes grew large and immediately misted over. Dr. Botch reached into his lab coat and pulled out a syringe. Out of his other pocket he removed a small vial. With a practiced hand he stuck the needle into the vial and drew out a measured dose. Patty said a silent prayer as the tears fell down her cheek and onto the hard surface of the gurney.

  “Goodbye, Patty,” Dr. Botch whispered, jabbing the needle into the fleshy part of her right arm. “Try to remember just how many lives you’ll be saving.”

  Patty opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly overcome by a great wave of blackness.

  Chapter 16

  “I think it is absolutely essential in a democracy to have competition in the media, a lot of competition, and we seem to be moving away from that.” ~ Walter Cronkite

  “Welcome back, America,” Thrill Melbow said to the camera. “In case you’ve been living under a rock or are just tuning in, I’m sitting here with Ken Dahlgren and Jimmy Logan. That’s right, the leader and second in command of the infamous Dahlgren Gang. Let me bring you up to speed here. Ken and Jimmy were just attempting to explain the two hundred bodies the authorities have dug up on their burned-out compound in northern Minnesota. Now, as you know, President Richter has chosen to forgive these two men for their crimes. He wants to put this incident behind us, and I have to say that he’s a much bigger man than I am, figuratively speaking, of course.”

 

‹ Prev