“Bastard! Dragging me out to this lame-ass place with no friends and nothing to do but take care of you!” she mumbled to herself, forgetting that it had been her idea to fill out their information on the experiment’s website without telling him and then forging his signature on the paperwork without his even knowing it.
Now, he reminded her time and time again, if she was so unhappy she could go out and earn the money to buy their way out of this place and she could go home to her precious mother. The phone rang again and this time she almost did throw it out. Instead, she let it ring and ring and ring.
The crisp air and rain wakened Asher’s senses but he knew he would be exhausted when he got home. He needed to get some sleep. ‘Damn meetings,’ he thought. He reveled in the power and influence he held over others, even though none of the proposals he made were actually his. He was just the public face, he remembered bitterly. That was going to change soon, though.
He rooted around his pocket for his keys. When he pulled them out he heard something plastic click on the ground, probably his debit card.
“Damn.” he said, bending down to pick it up.
Jimmy was frozen and soaked with rain. He’d almost bailed on this stakeout and gone home to warm up, but he didn’t want to put it off for yet another night. He wanted to get this over with. He needed to get it over with. Boston was beckoning him home and hitting Asher was his ticket. Just when he was about to leave he saw Asher exit the apartment and walk towards the street. He could see Asher rooting around in his pocket. Probably looking for his keys. When Asher walked around the car, his back was turned to Jimmy. Jimmy made his move and started to cross the street, slowly at first. He reached into the pouch of his hoodie and pulled out the revolver. Moving faster now, Jimmy concealed the gun behind his right hip.
Halfway across the street, Jimmy raised the gun and fired a shot. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Asher bent over to pick something up, causing the shot to miss high. He missed but his target was still there, not moving. Jimmy was focused now. He wouldn’t miss again. He was so focused, in fact, he didn’t hear or see the SUV bearing down on him.
Although the rain had muffled the gunshot somewhat, Asher still recognized the pistol’s loud report and the snap of the bullet flying overhead. Asher turned to see someone walking towards him with a pistol raised towards him. The best thing for him to do would have been to close the distance and push or punch or do something to disarm the gunman. Instead he ran away, giving the attacker a chance to fire another shot.
Fortunately for Asher, though, the second shot never came. However, another type of roaring sound ripped through the night air.
She finally answered on the bajillionth time her sonofabitch husband called.
“What!” she screamed.
Her husband was so drunk now she couldn’t understand anything he was saying.
“Hey asshole! I don’t want to talk to you! Quit calling me!” she yelled and hit the end button. Before she could set the phone down it rang again. She looked at the screen to verify that it was him, but she already knew it was. Who else would call her? She angrily punched the ignore button and set the phone down on the passenger seat. She was mad and her windshield was covered with rain and her baby was crying so loudly that she barely noticed the loud thud.
Asher estimated that the body flew at least twenty feet in the air before landing on top of another parked car. The kid, who’d tried to kill him, crashed through the back window. Not knowing what else to do, the governor retreated to Anna’s apartment. He found her standing on her front stoop, a blanket draped around her shoulders.
“What the hell just happened?” she asked, her face wrenched with shock.
“Some bastard just tried to shoot me!”
“What?”
Asher grabbed Anna by the shoulders and led her inside. He called his security detail and told them where to pick him up. He should probably go to the hospital, but he was the governor. The doctor could come and see him at his house.
Now that they were in the light, she saw that his face was bruised and had road rash. His hair was matted down with rain. Altogether, he looked like Mike Tyson had punched him.
“What happened to your face?” she asked, concerned. She gently reached her hand towards his face. He grabbed her wrist and moved away from her.
“What?” he asked, distracted. He looked at himself in the hallway mirror. “Oh,” he said, “I must’ve hit my head when I jumped out of the way.”
“You should go to the hospital,” she said, still quite concerned about him.
“No. Look, I’m fine. My security detail is going to be here any minute. I’ll get checked later. I’ve got to get out of here. Who knows if someone else is after me too.”
Anna looked at him with wide eyes. She hadn’t considered this. Less than five minutes later a large, black Suburban pulled into her driveway. Two security agents exited the vehicle and came to the door. They surrounded Asher and escorted him to the SUV. He looked back at Anna, who was now standing outside her door. He waved at her and then ducked into the Suburban.
News of the attempted assassination of Governor Asher spread quickly. During the attack he took a header and bruised his face. He went to the hospital as a precaution. Anna called the media and made sure they were aware of the incident. Pictures of the governor’s face were quickly plastered all over the internet. A freelance photographer got pictures of Asher’s car with bullet holes in it. The local media was having a heyday and many bloggers tried to connect the story to something bigger. One reporter insinuated that Mike Wilson had possibly been involved. Luckily for Mike, the story went nowhere.
Jimmy, the perpetrator, suffered a broken hip, three broken ribs, a cracked vertebrae, a fractured skull, and a separated shoulder. Nearly his entire body was black and blue. He was life-flighted to a hospital in nearby Ogden, Utah, where he would be treated for his injuries. Once recovered enough, he would return to Blue Creek to face justice. During a visit to the hospital, Mike promised Jimmy that he wouldn’t spend a single day in jail for what happened. Jimmy couldn’t speak, but Mike could tell that Jimmy believed him.
CHAPTER 18
As time passed, the story of the assassination attempt began to fade from the public consciousness. Instead, the citizens of Blue Creek began to remember the misery they were feeling. Unemployment was still high and the economy continued its downward spiral. No amount of sympathetic press coverage for Governor Asher could wipe those facts away. Yet, while economic conditions in Blue Creek continued to worsen, the trio of Charlie Henry, Anna and Asher pushed ahead with their agenda. The new set of economic policies was about to be introduced. To give them a better chance to pass, they would be voted on as a package instead of individually.
First was an income tax increase, followed by the implementation of a value-added tax, an increase of the minimum wage, and last, the printing and insertion of additional cash into the economy. This would create inflation, which would, in turn, force businesses to increase their prices. Consumers would ultimately take the hit. More would be taken from their wallets and products and services would cost more. Again, businesses would be to blame and people would turn to the government for help.
As the weather began to warm, so did the divisions in Blue Creek’s politics. While Governor Asher was becoming wildly unpopular—a recent poll had put him at thirty-four percent approval—he still had his die-hard supporters. A group of business leaders, formed by Patton Larsen and his associates, built momentum and quickly became the loudest voice in the town’s politics. A vote on the economic package was set for May 1st. Because of the negative attention of the impending vote, anticipation of the outcome was palpable. The separate anti-Asher groups coalesced into a single, large political movement. They held a letter writing and email drive to pressure members of the Council to vote against the package.