The Will to Die

by Joe Pulizzi

  “That’s exactly what we wanted to hear. Is there any possibility that they know you hacked in?”

  “Well, it’s possible, but not likely at this point. We have a guy here that’s smarter than Snowden and more conniving than the Chinese. I think he’s in undetected.”

  “Great. We have an idea.”

  Chapter 31 – The Message

  The four of us stood in front of Rod’s kitchen table for inventory check.

  Two guns. Robby’s.

  A .357 Magnum. Rod’s.

  A Mossberg 500 12-gauge pump. Also Rod’s. He said he keeps the Mossberg by the bed just in case Whitey ever came to take him from his house. “Or aliens,” he said.

  Right of the guns, we had three Redpoint folding knives Rod bought off of QVC. “Got a hell of a deal on those. Perfect when you’re fighting a larger man.” We also had three oversized firecrackers that Rod said would “blow the nuts off an elephant.”

  Left of the guns was the computer we purchased at the Sandusky Mall. Next to that, our three original iPhones, all currently turned off, and the three burner phones.

  “As soon as we make this call, we roll out,” I said. “I figure they’ve got someone fewer than ten minutes away, and this thing will light us up like the Fourth of July. Are we ready?”

  Everyone nodded, including Rod.

  “Okay,” I said. “Here goes nothing.”

  I grabbed my iPhone and waited for it to turn on. Then I made the call.

  It rang twice. Then again. By the fourth ring, he picked up.

  “William. It’s awfully late. What’s going on?”

  “You can stop playing stupid. We know you’re involved in all this.”

  There was silence. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, son.”

  “Give it up, Dan. I’m not recording this, so you don’t have to worry. We have Dad’s journals. We know what’s been going on with the Alliance. I can’t believe you’re involved in this shit show. But none of that matters now. I need you to do something for me.”

  “There’s a warrant out for your arrest. Lily and I saw it on the news. You’re having a breakdown. You need to get help. We understand, with your dad passing. Come to the house, and we can figure out a plan.”

  “Oh, yeah, that would be great. I’m sure I’d last all of five minutes before they shot me down. And then all you David-Duke-loving assholes would lynch up my buddy like it was Confederate Christmas.” Sam gave me a stern look. “Shoot, you’re distracting me. Dan, you need to tell the leadership of the Third Reich of Sandusky that I’ve made three copies of Dad’s journals, all with a very nice note explaining what’s been happening. If anyone I know and love even gets a haircut from you boys, that includes Denise and Jess and Sam and Robby and myself, those copies get automatically delivered to two local news outlets and one national outlet. I’m sure they’ll take great interest in what’s been going on. So tell them to call off the dogs. Now.”

  There was a long pause. “Son, it’s not what you think. I need to explain things to you.”

  “Do it now. I’ll be back in touch, calling from a different phone. Keep your phone on.” I ended the call.

  I was trembling all over. I started breathing hard and had trouble catching my breath.

  Sam grabbed a plastic grocery bag from the kitchen counter and handed it to me.

  “Breathe in and out in this bag. Slowly. You’ll be fine” Sam said.

  “You were magnificent,” Rod said.

  “I think Confederate Christmas was my favorite,” Robby said.

  I removed the bag from my mouth. “Let’s go,” I said. “Sam. You text Alan that the Eagle has landed, and he should be on the lookout for rats.”

  ROD INSISTED ON DRIVING. He asked me if I’d ever driven a Chevy Tahoe. I hadn’t. Neither had Robby. Rod said it takes months of driving a Chevy Tahoe to really understand her.

  Sam and Robby were planted in the second-row captain’s chairs, and I was hanging over their shoulders, in the seat behind them. We all stared intently at the video screen as Sam maneuvered the seek function on the video player. Robby’s portable Wi-Fi was cooking along, so the videos showed no buffering.

  Sam was halfway through Thursday. Nothing of substance that we could see so far. And after this, three more days to go: Friday, Saturday, and half of Sunday. We felt like we were running out of time.

  We drove west on Route 2 back toward Sandusky and hit the east side of Vermilion.

  My burner phone rang. Alan.

  “What did you see?”

  “About five minutes after Sam texted us, we identified Daniel McGinty leaving his house. Five minutes after that, two gentlemen left from Traynor’s crematory. One was in his thirties or forties, from what we could tell. The other was much older and needed assistance from the younger to walk.”

  “John and Alex Traynor,” I said. “Anyone else?”

  “Nothing of substance. It’s pretty quiet.”

  “That’s odd,” I said. “I thought they’d bring out the entire Alliance. Well, at least it’s something.”

  “We’re monitoring them now. I’ll keep you posted.”

  The call ended.

  “I’m not sure this is working,” I said. “Just Dan and the Traynors?”

  “No, maybe it’s working better than you thought,” Robby said. “Maybe your Uncle Dan and the Traynors are like the big three. Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, and Hannibal Lecter,”

  “I’m with you on the first two, but not Hannibal Lecter. Has to be Michael Myers,” I said.

  “Do you two ever stop?” Sam said. “Anyway, I think Leatherface from Texas Chainsaw Massacre would make the top three.”

  “Yes!” I said, and Robby and I bumped fists.

  “Seriously, Robby could be right. On something like this, maybe just the main decision-makers would meet,” Sam said.

  Rod was driving in the right lane, while a Mazda CX-9 passed us on the left. Just like the one my mother used to drive. “Oh my God,” I said.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “What day was May 9th? When was it?”

  “That was last Saturday. Your dad passed on May 10th, and that was a Sunday,” Robby said.

  “It’s got to be it. And I never called him.”

  “Will, tell us,” Sam said.

  “May 9th was the anniversary of my mom’s death. They transported her from the scene of the accident to the hospital. She was too far gone at that point. Sam, you remember. They couldn’t do surgery or anything. I arrived at Firelands Hospital around eight thirty or so. She passed on at 8:52 p.m. on May 9th. I’ll never forget the time. How could I be so stupid? Sam, go to Saturday in the camera database and forward to just before 8:52.”

  Sam navigated back to the date list and clicked on May 9th. The video opened, and Sam clicked and dragged the play time to just before eight thirty p.m. The camera must not have detected any movement, because the time went straight to eight fifty p.m.

  The camera was only picking up shadows. No people. About thirty seconds later, my dad walked in carrying a brown paper bag and a red Solo cup. He sat in his swivel chair and removed the bottle from the bag. Looked like a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label. My mother’s favorite drink. He poured two fingers into the Solo cup and looked at his watch. Then he sat there, waiting.

  He checked his watch again at 8:52. He closed his eyes for three, four seconds, toasted the air, and drank down the entire cup, tipping it upside down into his mouth. He set down the cup and looked directly at the overhead camera.

  He started to move his hands.

  “What is he doing?” Robby asked.

  “He’s signing. It’s ASL. American Sign Language,” Sam said.

  “He knew I didn’t know sign language,” I said.

  “Yes, but he knew that I did,” Sam said. “Now shut up, and I’ll translate. Shoot. I missed the first part. I need to go back.” She rewound the video a few seconds. “Okay, here goes.”

  Hi, William.
I’m assuming in one way or another Sam is with you. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t just tell you what’s been going on. I don’t know how long it’s been. Probably more than two years now they’ve been tracking me. The Traynor clan. They’ve been tracking all of us. The entire city.

  I believe this room is bugged for sound, but there’s no video. With my limited knowledge of technology, this is all I could do with the time I had left. Knowing how smart you all are, I’m assuming you found it with no problem and found all my clues. Colavito was a good one, huh?

  A few weeks ago, my doctor told me I could drop any minute. I have inoperable cancer. Your Uncle Dan and I, with some help from Jack, have been collecting evidence against the Traynors as best we could. But it’s been nearly impossible since they see and hear everything. Including emails and texts. And the post office too. Best to my knowledge, Alex has thousands of cameras and mics set up all over town. And all our loved ones have been threatened if we try to do anything.

  This whole situation is partly my fault. About seven years ago, the wise men at Sandusky Alliance voted to build Sandusky into the city of the future. Alex Traynor, who is some kind of IT genius, gave us a great discount on all the tech so we could afford to fiber up the city. Now, Big Brother is always watching. Soon Alex knew the behavioral patterns of every person in this city. He had photos and videos and our passwords.

  I was horrified, but at the same time, business was booming. Money was flowing into the downtown area like never before. It didn’t take us long to realize why.

  With his power, leverage, and blackmail, Alex was unanimously voted in as CEO of SA. Shortly after, John and Alex presented their new mission to transform the city. At first, it was about hiding minorities to encourage tourism. That was bad enough, but every day it escalated. Then they started to kill off what they called the unclean. Minorities of all types, homosexuals, even those people that supported diversity, you name it.

  Much of that business, I’m sad to say, came through my funeral home. We were part of it. So was your Uncle Dan on the insurance side. When I started speaking out about it to others, I was punished. The business dried up, and then your mother died in the car accident. About a week after she died, I received a note in the mail. It contained your mother’s obituary and pictures of you and Denise with the question, Who’ll be next?

  You’d be sad to know that I became complacent with the situation. Like there was nothing I could do. But then I was diagnosed with cancer. A few days later, I received a photo of Jess in the mail. On the back, it said, Always watching. I received these notes all the time, but with Jess I just snapped. I’d already lost your mother to them, and I couldn’t risk losing anyone else, especially your Jess. Not this way.

  I’m sorry to leave you with the burden of cleaning all this shit up. You don’t deserve it. No one does. But I didn’t know what else to do, and you might be the only one that could save the city of Sandusky and all the wonderful people in it.

  The last piece of the puzzle is at Carol’s. Sam has the keys. That location contains my journals with as much evidence as I could gather. I’m sure you’ll know what to do with it.

  I love you both very much. Please forgive me.

  Dad wiped the tears from his eyes, grabbed the bottle and the red Solo cup, and left.

  “That’s it,” Sam said.

  “Oh my God,” Robby said. “Dude, I’m so sorry.”

  “Guys, I’m fine. I’ll go to counseling later. For now, let’s figure the rest of this out, find the rest of the evidence, kill those racist bastards who killed my mother, and save the city.”

  “Carpe motherfucking diem,” Rod yelled from the front seat, raising his hand in the air.

  “Carol’s? The restaurant by the funeral home?” Robby asked.

  “Yes,” Sam said. “But it could be anywhere inside. There are a lot of nooks and crannies at Carol’s.”

  I asked Sam, “Why do you have keys to Carol’s?”

  “Last year, Carol had bouts of forgetting her keys to open up, so she gave me an extra set just in case.”

  “I think I know exactly where the journals are,” I said.

  I looked down at my phone. It was Alan.

  “Alan. Any good news?”

  “No. McGinty and the two Traynors had their meeting. They were inside for ten minutes. The old man came out first, then the young man pulling what looked to be a body on a cart. The younger one lifted the body into the trunk of their car and headed back in the direction of their funeral home and crematory.”

  “Shit!” I said.

  “What happened?” Robby asked.

  My heart sank. “He thinks the Traynors killed my Uncle Dan,” I said.

  “Shit!” Sam said.

  “Shit!” Robby said.

  “Fuck!” Rod said.

  Alan cleared his throat. “We don’t know about the state of the body, so don’t say he was killed until we confirm that to be the case. But please, do not take this into your own hands. We’re sending the cavalry in now. Normally we’d have the locals there in three minutes, but we all agree that there is a high likelihood they’ve been compromised. I’m in the car now and on my way. We should have the first crew there in twenty-five minutes. I’ll be there in forty-five.”

  “You better hurry,” I said. “Someone else could be dead in that time.”

  “Stand down, Will. You’ll do no good heading into town. Just stop the car where you are and wait for further instructions.”

  “I’m sorry. The phone is breaking up. I’ll call back when I get a better signal.”

  I ended the call.

  Rod pulled the Tahoe into the back parking lot of the old post office, which was just to the west of Carol’s Café and two lots away from Pollitt Funeral Home.

  “You sure that’s the key?” I asked Sam.

  “I’m pretty sure. It’s one of these two. I’m almost positive.”

  I pointed. “Rod, why don’t you pull in that back corner under the mulberry tree? If someone happens to take a quick look, you’ll be hard to see.”

  “Roger that,” Rod said, making a slight right and pulling into the back corner of the lot.

  Robby, Sam, and I got out of the Tahoe and closed the doors. “Keep it running, Uncle Rod,” Robby said. “Hopefully no need for any action, but just in case we need to make a break for it or you need to run someone over.”

  “I hope it’s the second option. Been years since I ran someone over,” he said without emotion.

  “Give me your phone, Rod,” I said. I typed numbers into it, hit call, then immediately ended the call. “If we’re not back in fifteen minutes, call Alan and tell him where we are. It’s the most recent number dialed on your phone.”

  Chapter 32 – The Parking Lot

  It was pitch black. I led the way since I knew the terrain between the post office and Carol’s back parking lot. They were connected by a twelve-foot patch of grass from the street that led all the way to the back. I was worried about the small bushes in between, but we managed to find a gap and easily made our way to Carol’s back door.

  “Okay, Sam. Work your magic,” I whispered.

  She inserted the key while I lit up the lock with my phone. Sam twisted the key around twice and the lock released. Then she pushed open the door, and we made our way inside, with Robby closing the door behind us.

  “Oh. What’s that smell?” Robby asked.

  “I think it’s liver and onions. Must have been the special tonight,” I said.

  “God. The things white people eat.”

  “I could say the same about black people. Pickled pigs’ feet. Need I say more?”

  “That’s a totally different category from liver and onions.”

  “How the hell do you two work with each other?” Sam said in a loud whisper. “Now focus.” She moved to the side, letting me through. “Where are the journals?” she asked.

  I pointed the phone camera toward the floor and avoided the windows. We scurried through th
e kitchen and opened the swinging door that led to the seating area. Off to the side was the breakfast bar. I made a right.

  Shining the light on the area next to the bar sink, I said, “This is where one of the waitresses used to leave out Life Savers for me to steal. Dad knew about it. So I figure whatever Dad left should be around here.”

  “Look!” Robby exclaimed. “The plumber’s door right under the sink.”

  I crouched down and opened the plumber’s door. I waved the phone to the left and then to the right. There were cleaning wipes, a liter of bleach, and a small pile of rags. I pushed the rags aside and brought the phone to the right side of the bottom of the sink bowl. Something was red and blue, but I couldn’t make it out. I grabbed the side and pulled. It was sticky on one side like it was sealed with duct tape.

  I pulled the end of the tape and something dropped under the sink bowl. The tape stuck to my hand. “Look,” I said, “Cleveland Indians brand duct tape. That’s my father all right.”

  I reached back in, pulled out a plastic bag, and lifted it up for Sam and Robby to see.

  “A large Ziplock bag?” Robby asked.

  “With two black notebooks inside. Just like the ones your dad used,” Sam said.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said.

  ROBBY WENT FIRST OUT the door, then Sam, then me. I pulled the door tightly shut, and Sam came over and relocked it. We started back toward the Tahoe.

  “Damn, Will, you have mad puzzle-breaking skills, man. We found that quicker than I thought,” Robby said.

  “The three of us make a good team,” I said.

  We navigated our way back through the grass and avoided tripping on the larger bushes.

  Sam and I saw it first. The Tahoe’s passenger-side window, the one facing us, was black as night. We looked at each other. She mouthed “Rod?”

  Suddenly there was a popping sound to our left, like a large balloon exploding, but muffled.