Taking knives to the seats they tear the fabric. Lifting chairs they toss them around the room and through the windows. The hearty of the horde go to work with bats on the seats around the counter until the screws holding them in place give way.
As two of the throng makes their way to the kitchen the doors are suddenly swung open catching one of them flush on the nose. He falls quickly to the floor while his cohort is left staring down the barrel of a rifle.
“Well, well, well,” Justin brashly begins “Look what we’ve got here boys. If it ain’t Mary herself.”
With a jerk of the rifle Mary forces the man in front of her back behind the counter before glancing at Justin. “That’s right,” she says, “And if I were you assholes I’d scram before you get some lead up your ass.”
Justin begins laughing loudly infecting the crowd with the desire to do the same. Slowly laughter ripples out through them before Justin replies “I’ll tell you what Mary. My boys and I will let you go unharmed if you leave now.”
With a twisted smile Mary answers “How about I shove this rifle up your ass Justin then you and your boys can waddle on home.”
“Look around you Mary,” Justin takes a step towards her and with his hands instructs two others to flank her. “What do you think you can do with that rifle against these numbers?”
They close another step on her but she doesn’t back down. Shaking her head she asks, “Why are you doing this Justin? You fix my car for chrissakes! What are you doing this for?”
“Because,” he answers “It doesn’t matter anymore. I know as the gossip queen that you’ve read the paper. They’ve poisoned us! It’s just a matter of time now for all of us.”
“That isn’t true! Is that what you’ve told all these guys to get them to follow you?”
“Like fuck it isn’t true! We’re all going to die here and it’s their fault—goddamn doctors and their fucking vaccines. They’ll never stick me with another needle, I promise you that. Hell, they’re just waiting for us all to drop dead,” he sweeps his hand around to indicate his followers “Be damned if we’re going out like that though.”
“Like what?”
“Like my brother—fucking died in a week. Or like Rod’s sister or like Quinn’s son or like Eli’s wife and daughter—all of them dead in the last week—do I really need to go on?
“No…none of us are fucking going out like that. We’re taking matters into our own hands.”
“How?” Mary asks incredulously “By destroying our town? Is that how you idiots are making things better?”
“Damn right.” A cheer rises up from the horde behind Justin.
“Well you’re not destroying anymore of my store.”
Again Justin laughs maniacally. “You’re holding a single-shot rifle Mary. You can’t stop us all.”
“Well then,” Mary presses the butt of the rifle into her shoulder tightly “Which one of you wants to die for the cause?”
The man to Mary’s right, Eli Jennings takes a step towards her and she immediately swings her aim around to him. With her sights locked on him she doesn’t see Justin rush her.
He tackles her into the cupboards behind her knocking the rifle free from her grasp. But not before the single shot fires. The blast is deafening at such close range and momentarily stuns Justin.
Mary takes the moment to drive her fist right into his mouth causing him to stumble back off of her. She’s grabbed and held by Eli until Justin clears his eyes and focuses on her. He spits blood onto the floor from his cut open lip.
With one step he’s on her and drives a right of his own into her face sending her splayed to the floor unconscious.
Spitting on her he looks at Eli and smiles. “Tear it up boys! This is our last stop. From here we finish it!” The mob cheers raucously as they continue to lay waste to Mary’s Café.
“What do we do with her Justin?” Eli asks.
“Nothing,” he answers “She’ll die anyway.”
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be anywhere near here.
Pacing the small room Vladimir Tesla runs through the logic of his plan one more time.
I can’t outrun them and I can’t beat them alone. This is my only chance to survive.
Peeking through the curtain on the motel room window he looks out at the empty gravel parking lot. He can see the black smoke from downtown billowing upward against the night sky and not for the first time wonders if he’ll make it.
If they haven’t figured out the ruse with the car yet, they will soon. He has to show up tonight—I can’t wait any longer.
Resuming pacing he starts to bite his fingernails nervously. This will work. This has to work. If anyone has the guts to print my story it’s Jacob Castle. Looking at the day’s copy of The Sound on his bed, the headline tells him that he’s right.
And once he prints what I have to say, they’ll have no reason to look for me anymore. Everything will be out in the open and I’ll be free of them. Yes, he nods to himself deep in thought; it’s worth the risk coming back here. After this night…I’ll be safe.
The knock on his door causes him to jump. In the days that follow he’ll wonder many times why he did it. But in the moment he rushes over to the door and removes the chain without checking the peephole to see who’s there.
Often times in life it’s the little things that make the big differences.
Swinging the door open he stands face to face with the demon that’s been haunting him. A sharp intake of breath is all that he can manage.
“Hello Vlad,” Kazim calmly says, “You’ve been a bad boy.”
Uselessly he tries to shut the door again but Kazim places his foot in front of it and shoves it wide open. A left hook follows to Vladimir’s jaw sending the old man sprawling to the motel floor, knocking his glasses from off his nose.
Stepping inside Kazim shuts the door and reattaches the chain lock. Even without his glasses on, Vladimir can see him do this and it causes fear to grip his chest fiercely.
“Please,” he begs, “Please, don’t do this. I don’t want to die.”
Without the aid of his glasses he can’t be sure, but it looks as if Kazim is confused by his begging.
“Honestly Vlad, whatever are you talking about? Why on earth would I kill you? You’re far too valuable to the facility to kill. I’m here to bring you back.”
Crawling across the ratty carpet, Vladimir feels for his glasses. Finding them he places them back on his nose where they sit crooked. Focusing his tired brown eyes on his assailant he tries to measure the sincerity in his words.
“What about what happened to Nikolai?” he asks.
“Markov died in a lab accident Vlad. Honestly, you know that.”
“An accident?” Vlad scoffs, “Like Arthur Wellesley’s accident.”
“I don’t know that name.”
“You should.” Vladimir rises up on one foot pressing, “Do you never wonder what you are charged with protecting? You are not on the side of angels, my friend.”
“Get your shit packed,” Kazim instructs, “Before you tempt me to hit you again. I have to bring you back alive, nothing was said about unharmed.”
“Do you not care who you work for? Have you no conscience?” Vladimir stands by the bed as his eyes drift from Kazim to the door and back again. “The plague that affects this town—do you not care where it came from? I don’t believe that you are like them.”
Kazim allows himself to smile wickedly at his captive. “What I don’t believe is that you think this will work. You can stop looking at the door Vlad, he’s not coming.”
Vladimir’s eyes widen in shock. How does he know about my meeting? How is it possible?
“Let’s go.” The tone leaves no doubt as to his seriousness.
Grabbing Vladimir by the arm Kazim escorts him from the room towards the Suburban in the parking lot. As they walk Vladimir desperately pleads with him.
“I cannot do what they want from me. Do you not understand what w
ill happen if I finish this devil’s work? You must listen to me. There are records stored at the facility. You can get to them.
“You must read them. Once you learn the truth you will return to help me. I know it.”
Shoving him into the backseat, Kazim tries to shut the door but Vladimir puts his foot in the way protesting, “Arthur Wellesley! Look him up and open your eyes! He is the key to everything!”
The sight of Jaime sitting limply in his passenger seat distracts Scott Lee as he drives through the streets of town. His concern is evident.
He’s taking her to his place after deciding that she may not be safe at her place. The town is exploding in waves of violence and sooner or later he reasons it’s bound to find its way to the Mayor’s residence.
The scene beyond his windshield is surreal—like a scene from some distant war-torn country. But it’s happening right here. All around small fires burn wildly in broken down cars and shops. Debris litters the streets to the extent that he has to be careful about where he drives lest he hit something that would disable his car.
A scenario he hopes to avoid.
Hearing Jaime stirring from her unconscious state Scott says, “Jaime? Jaime? Are you awake?”
Slowly Jaime opens her eyes and as she remembers her last moments of clarity she jerks. “Easy Jaime. It’s me, Scott.”
“Scott…my head.”
“Are you hurt?”
“My head hurts. It hurts to open my eyes.”
Concern etched across his face Scott considers his options. If Jaime needs medical attention he’ll have to get her to the doctor though the odds of him being at the office are not good. “Do you think you’ll be all right until morning?”
“I don’t know Scott, it hurts so bad.”
“You’ve probably got a concussion. We’re almost to my place. I’ll get you some Tylenol and we’ll see if it makes you feel better. If it doesn’t work I’ll get you help, I promise.”
“What’s going on?”
“They printed that the flu vaccines were bad Jaime. That started the riot. As soon as I heard the news I came looking for you. What happened at the shop? Do you remember?”
Jaime sits quietly thinking for a moment before she answers, “We were attacked. Somebody threw a brick through the window. Then there was an explosion…a car blew up and these guys started chasing us. Oh God!”
“What? What is it?”
“Dominique and Adrienne. We got separated in the alley behind the shop. They’re out there somewhere. We have to find them.”
Having left the downtown core behind Scott is not about to allow Jaime to endanger herself anymore. “I’ll get you to my place and make sure you’re safe. Then I’ll go back out to look for them okay?”
Her face scrunches up from the pain behind her eyes before she replies “You can’t go alone.”
“Well I’m not letting you go back out there tonight.”
They sit silently for the remaining moments of the drive until Scott pulls off into his driveway at 49 Brady Street. Turning the ignition off he looks at her and the sight pains him.
She opens her eyes a crack as she asks, “Have you heard from Guy?”
After a moment Scott solemnly shakes his head. “Don’t worry though,” he adds, “I’m sure that he’s fine. He’s probably out looking for Dom right now. Come on; let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”
Getting out of the car he hurries around to the passenger side and opens the door to help Jaime out. She’s weak on her feet and leans heavily on Scott for support.
Climbing the steps to his place Scott unlocks the door and quickly ushers her inside. In the distance he can see smoke rising from downtown—a billowing mass of black writhing against the backdrop of the night sky.
Closing and locking the door he knows that this is a night Stillness may not survive and certainly will never forget.
The clanging of keys on the iron bars awakens William Sullivan. Sitting up he sees the smug face of the Sheriff staring at him.
“Up and at them,” he slides the key into the lock and opens the door to the cell. “Time to go.”
Surprised Will asks, “Now?”
“Yeah,” Walt sneers, “Now.”
Wiping the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes, Will stands and exits his cell following the Sheriff to the front of the police station.
As they pass the interrogation room Will glances at the closed door expecting it to open and usher him inside for another session.
It doesn’t.
Reaching the lobby, Walt grabs a plastic evidence bag containing Will’s belongings. Dumping it out on his desk he motions for Will to gather it up.
Will begins pocketing his possessions but can contain his curiosity no longer and has to ask, “Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why am I being released tonight? What about the FBI?”
The sneer on Walt’s face offers no comfort to Will’s frayed nerves. “Don’t worry about them none. I ain’t making you a fugitive or nothing. You believe me don’t you?”
Honestly Will doesn’t know what to believe and thus remains silent.
“They’ve dropped the charges against you—lack of evidence. You still have my charges to face, but your lawyer insists that I can’t hold you any longer. He’s demanded your release by tomorrow. I’ve decided to comply.”
Something in the Sheriff’s voice tells Will that he’s not doing him any favors. Glancing out the front door Will notices that the power is out. Looking around the station he realizes that the emergency lights are on.
He stops gathering up his possessions to ask, “What’s going on?”
“You’re leaving,” is all Walt offers, his voice dripping with contempt.
Will reaches for the phone when Walt slams his hand down on top of it. “No calls.”
“What?” Will asks incredulously, “You can’t keep me from calling for a ride.”
“I can,” Walt hisses, “You can take it up with your lawyer in the morning. That is, if you survive the night.” Will stares right into Walt’s beady eyes as he continues, “Dangerous element out there tonight. You ask me, you’d be safer in here. Too bad your lawyer says you gotta go.”
Heading for the door, Will hears the Sheriff giggling under his breath behind him. He understands now why he’s being released at night with no one else around. Stepping outside into the darkness broken only by the flickering light of distant fires, Will gives one look back over his shoulder at the vengeful Sheriff.
Then he runs for his life.
This is stupid. This is very, very stupid.
Dominique Trembley lurks in the shadows cast by the dying fire inside the store. I shouldn’t have come back here tonight. I certainly shouldn’t have come back alone. I should’ve just gone home like Adrienne told me to do. But I have to know that she got away okay.
I know I saw Jaime escape through the firebomb but I never saw Adrienne after we got separated. I have to know if she’s okay.
Quietly she moves into the alley behind the store keeping her back pressed tightly against the opposite wall. The smell of smoke lingers in the tight space. Breathing lightly she also picks up the faintest taste of copper. It causes her to gag.
Pressing ahead she sees the dumpster that Adrienne pushed in front of the back door. A chill runs through her as she notices that it’s been moved away from the door. Steeling her resolve she takes a deep breath and goes forward.
When she can see the other side of the dumpster she falls to her knees and barely contains the cry of sorrow rising from deep within her. Shaking uncontrollably she stares at the bloody, unmoving body of Adrienne Ware.
Feeling her stomach clenching she turns away and vomits her lunch up in the alley. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve she forces herself to turn back. Slowly she crawls over to the body and reaches out to try for a pulse.
Her hand hovers in the air for the longest time just inches from Adrienne’s neck. She’s afraid to touch her and fi
nd out that she’s cold and thus dead.
Finally she brings her fingers to rest on her carotid artery. The immediate icy sensation tells her all that she needs to know but still she waits for a pulse. She waits a good two minutes but one never comes.
Pulling her hand away she covers her mouth as the tears flow freely. Her sobs are guttural and punctuated by an unnerving wailing. She tucks her knees up under her chin and sits shaking across from the body and there she cries long into the night.
Chapter 28
Turning the key in the ignition George Marlin turns the motor off. Kicking the door open he exits his car and proceeds on foot down Dowler Street.
Around his neck his camera swings freely with each hurried step. In his back pocket he has his tape recorder and a pen and pad of paper. His reporter instincts are in high gear this night.
He’s waited his whole life for a story like this one and now he sees it as his chance to make a name for himself. He’ll be the only reporter on the scene of the ‘great riot’ in Stillness. The chance of a lifetime.
Glancing back over his shoulder he looks longingly at his car. If only the roads weren’t so cluttered with debris and I could remain mobile in my car. Being on foot raises the stakes of this endeavor.
Reaching Bridge Street he looks right and sees the edifice of City Hall standing tall across Main Street. One hour ago an anonymous call came into The Sound that a mob was preparing to storm City Hall and drag any government official it could find out into the street.
The caller made it clear that the tip was for Jacob and Jacob only. A fact that didn’t faze George at the time as unfortunately Jacob was deep six in a bottle and in no shape to work. George immediately telephoned the police to warn them, but not surprisingly this night found no answer at the station. So he figured if he couldn’t stop what was going to happen he could at least capture it on film.
Hustling fast around the debris he gets to the end of Bridge and bends down behind a bush for some cover. Across the way all looks quiet at City Hall. Maybe it’s already gone down and I missed it.
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