Multiple bodies flashed into the room. Shouts erupted from everywhere as I continually pulled the trigger. Frank’s people came crashing into the room with guns drawn, but refused to fire.
“Jackson, drop it!” the lead man shouted. I turned to the guy giving the order, or should I say, the kid.
“Joey?” I asked.
“That’s right! Drop it, now!” Joey ordered again. Several of his other “sheriffs” stood beside the kid.
Joey kept shouting, but I couldn’t hear him through the buzzing. I managed to drop the knife and the gun, raising my hands above my head, not exactly aware of what was happening. It was like watching someone else’s life. The others in the room were looking around horrified, their faces full of disgust.
“Oh my goodness…” one of them commented. One of Joey’s crew bolted for the door, spewing up the contents of his stomach before reaching the exit.
I slowly turned back to face Frank, who had an honest look of horror and appeared deathly terrified. It had to be an act.
“On. The. Ground,” Joey said, emphasizing each word. He pointed his gun from me to the ground and back again. One of the others were taking out something metallic with loops in it. I hadn’t seen the metal rings before, and didn’t know what they were for. I only followed instructions, too mystified and too lost to know what else to do.
I fell to the ground and they leapt on my back instantly. They clasped my hands behind my back with the metal loops and let me lay there for a while. They tended to Frank like he was the victim. He put on a good show and I turned away, sickened by all of it.
“Then he just… just… killed them,” Frank explained.
The buzzing died away and I caught Frank in midsentence. He was retelling a fabled story, making up the entire thing. He was a damn fine actor, far more intelligent than most probably realized. I wanted to argue, to plead my case. But I couldn’t. The sickness that boiled in me kept me silent.
The thought of Olivia popped up again. I looked around as if I could see her hiding underneath the bed or in the closet. If she wasn’t here that would be for the best. Maybe she went home, stayed there, and waited. It made me stay silent, fearful of Frank’s violence.
“Easy Frank,” Joey said, holstering his sidearm.
The two other “officers” dragged me to my feet.
“Go get yourself patched up and try to take it easy. We’ll take care of this,” Joey said and looked me over.
Frank watched me as well, still in character. His crew, the two others who weren’t officers, were holding him up. His leg was visibly bleeding. Everyone acted accordingly, very on edge and frightened from the grisly scene. I kept silent. There was nothing to be said. My friends’ lives and deaths were on my hands, and that damn timer downtown was most likely still counting down.
“Sure, sure,” Frank gritted.
“Ok, boss. Let’s get you Downtown,” one of Frank’s goons said. The two that wrapped Frank’s arms around their shoulders were certainly great actors. Maybe they didn’t even know about Frank’s plan. The crew left the room, with Frank smiling back at me.
“Just keep him there,” Joey ordered. He bent down in front of me and picked up the gun that Frank used on himself. He examined it, pressing the clip release.
Of course, there were no bullets in the clip, but that was Frank’s plan all along. Give himself a single bullet for his plan, and give the sidearm to me, knowing I would pull the trigger, caught in the crime I didn’t commit. It was genius.
“Can’t we just kill him?” one of the sheriffs asked. He drew his piece and looked back at Joey. I was dead inside, and remained emotionless. I waited to feel the metal touch my temple and thought I could hear Olivia’s voice. But it was coming from everywhere, in front of me, behind, over to the left, and from outside. She was playing, crying, saying she was hungry and cold. Closing my eyes only made her voice grow louder.
“No,” Joey’s words echoed. “We don’t do that, you know that. We’re not like them.” He nodded his head toward me.
The other officer holstered his sidearm, but sneered.
“Zackery, check his pockets. Let’s make sure of few things,” Joey demanded. The one that just holstered his metal turned and started rifling through my pockets. The others watching on in silence, holding me tighter, as if I would do something.
“What is this?” Zackery announced. He withdrew the orb from my sweatshirt and looked at it strangely.
“What the heck is this?” he repeated as he held out the orb for everyone to see.
Joey grabbed the sphere and placed it in his jacket pocket. “Continue,” he instructed.
Zackery followed suit, and started checking my pants, other pockets, and the back pockets. He pulled out something from the back left pocket and gasped. I never carried anything back there, but he showed it to Joey.
Joey’s emotional level remained constant as he looked over the plastic bag. Inside was what looked like blonde locks of hair held on by a bloody scalp. That color, it was so familiar. It was Olivia’s.
Chapter 17: The Law
It’d been forever since then, since Frank’s elaborate gambit. He got his wish. He had me dwindling in a jail cell, reliving those terrible memories from weeks ago. This was worse than death. This was rotting from the inside out. I took all the blame, no evidence to point in another direction.
The cell was a small, concrete slab with only a bed leaning against the wall. A single, barred window faced directly Downtown. The timer stood directly in my line of sight from the window, and I didn’t forget the irony of the situation. I was trapped on the inside, looking out, and seeing my end come ever closer. The timer showed only two days, five hours, thirty seven minutes, and twenty-three seconds left. Only a few days left, but it really didn’t matter anymore. Everything had changed.
I looked away from the timer and back toward Downtown. It was maybe only a half mile away, and the day was bustling with activity. People were all about, continuing to act out their mundane lives. Some were drunk, while most others were living out what life was left. Thunder cracked from the center, and even though it was a perfectly cloudless day, it was the constant reminder that evil awaited
“Wouldn’t think about it. Gonna be somess time till you gets out,” someone spoke from beyond the bars to my cage. This was Bobby, an officer with the strange slur. He glared at me, snarling his jagged teeth, his beady eyes set back in their deep sockets.
He spit on the ground, and a long line of drool refused to separate from his lips. He whipped it away with the back of his sleeve. “Why don’t you just sits on down. Forget about that lifes you thoughts you had. Just sits down and die,” he said, adding an extra “s” to nearly every word.
I rotated on my heels and leaned back against the barred window. I just didn’t care anymore, and my stubbornness was getting worse with every passing day. I spat on the floor myself and gave him the middle finger refusing to follow his meaningless orders.
“Your ass bettersss find a seat you sum-a-bitch,” he slurred.
I stared out the window. “Fuck off, Bobby, you dumb sum-a-bitch,” I mocked.
“I swears…” He wrestled with a pair of keys that hung from his belt loops. There were quite a few, and every key he tried refused to unlock my cell. “I’m going to beats your stupid ass, boy.” Bobby turned red in the face.
“What are you doing?” Joey demanded.
“He deservesss a beatss down boss.” Bobby stumbled through a few lines, babbling and correcting himself. When no good answer was apparently, Bobby turned and left. The lead officer waited for Bobby to vanish beyond his line of sight.