When the day of the vote finally arrived, Blue Creek was terribly divided. The pro-Asher movement, behind Anna and Charlie, was pushing their pro-package message through the media. The publicity helped the policies gain some popularity, but overall, the people of Blue Creek were very much against it. The vote was scheduled for seven that evening and was going to be carried on live TV. Hours before the vote, hundreds of people, representing both sides of the issue, gathered in front of City Hall. The Blue Creek Police Department was in “all hands on deck” mode to provide security and keep the two sides separated.
In an attempt to bring calm and keep order, Governor Asher went on TV to give an address. Although he was undoubtedly in favor of the proposals, he beseeched citizens to accept the results of the vote, whichever way it went. A half hour before the vote, a large bus pulled up in front of City Hall. All twenty-one members of the Blue Creek Council stepped off and made their way into the building. There was some cheering and jeering, but mostly, the crowd was quiet, mostly out of dreaded anticipation of the outcome.
Council member Peter Grace was in a tough spot. The vote was tied ten to ten and just his luck, he was the last person to vote. He wasn’t really on the fence—he had known for weeks how he was going to vote—he just knew that he was about to become a symbol of derision and anger. He would’ve voted for the package anyway, but a visit to his home the night before helped him make his decision. He hadn’t recognized the man, but he knew it was someone he shouldn’t mess with.
The man was there to inform the Councilman that he knew why Grace fled his home in Ohio. If he didn’t vote the right way on the tax package, the rest of Blue Creek would know. The man threw in the last caveat—if he voted against it, not only would everyone on Blue Creek know that he had committed various crimes back in Ohio, and was wanted by the law there, he would also be beaten within an inch of his life. Swallowing hard, Grace nodded again. He closed the door and started to think about what to do after being voted out of office.
“And how does Mr. Grace vote?” came the voice of the Speaker.
Peter Grace was shaken out of his trance. He looked at the Speaker, then ahead to the gathered audience. A pregnant silence hung in the air. He nervously cleared his throat and leaned closer to his microphone.
“I vote yes, Madame Speaker,” he said, his voice cracking.
Loud applause broke out from one half of the room. The Speaker nearly pounded her gavel through her desk.
“Let’s have some order!” she said to no avail.
Although Councilman Grace had just become the hero to half of this room, he had just become the enemy to nearly three-quarters of Blue Creek. On one hand, he would be voted out of office—there was no doubt about that. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have to spend months in a body cast.
Supposedly they had just won a victory, but Anna and Asher didn’t feel like celebrating. It felt more like they had just had a near-death experience. They usually would have been in bed by this point, but the Governor was too frazzled by the near miss. He chalked the victory up to his charm and political acumen, but Anna knew better. She was the one who had deployed the thug to the Council member’s house. Not wanting to deflate what was left of Asher’s ego, she decided to not mention it.
Anna was nursing her second drink while Asher was either on number seven or eight. She wished he would just pass out. However, he was still going strong on his anti-Wilson rant, something he was doing more often the less popular he became.
“So what’s the old bastard going to have me do next, buy a nuke from the US government and drop it on all of our heads?” Asher asked, almost completely drunk now.
Anna almost laughed, but this wasn’t the time to encourage him. The last thing they needed to do at this point was divide themselves. There were outside forces at work trying to do that. What she needed to do was help him see the big picture. Yes, they would take their lumps in the polls and at the ballot box, but once they had power, it was going to be hard for anyone else to take it away from them. Instead of placating Asher and giving into his woe-is-me mood, she set her drink down and glared at him.
“You know what,” Asher said, raising his glass towards her, “you look like my mother when you make that face.” He chuckled and downed the rest of the dark yellow liquid.
“Screw you, David,” she said viciously. “Why don’t you pull your head out of your ass and listen to what we’re trying to do here? It’s not about one election or one policy.”
Asher scoffed at that. He wanted to remind her that the experiment started with everyone equal in socioeconomic status, but she would just brush this aside. It was at that moment that he decided to go ahead with his plans. She didn’t know this—sitting on the floor with her back up against her recliner—that David Asher had just decided to take Blue Creek in his own direction.
There was a similar scene at the Larsen house—a depressed, drunk man with a woman trying to comfort him. Patton had alternated between rage and disbelief at the outcome of the vote. He’d poured hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars into stopping passage of the economic package. He’d cranked up the activity on his blog, writing what he believed were his best pieces. Traffic at his site had been at its highest. Patton had every reason to believe that they would stop the new policy proposals. But something had gone wrong.
Part of Patton wanted to relent—to give up the fight and let Charlie Henry have his way. He’d still make his money for a while. If worse came to worse, he could pay his way out of the experiment and go home. Another part of Patton understood the consequences of his leaving. He was the only thing standing in the way of Charlie Henry bringing “utopia” to Blue Creek.
“You tried everything you could, Patton,” Jennifer cooed. She rubbed his neck the way he liked and he was finally starting to relax. Patton grunted in disagreement. However, he couldn’t think of anything else he could have done.
Their conversation drifted onto other topics and eventually led to Mike and what he was up to.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jennifer asked, obviously concerned.
“No idea. I haven’t even really seen him.”
Patton suddenly started to chuckle.
“What?” Jennifer asked, smiling. She was glad to see him smiling.
“Do you remember that story Mike was telling us about him and his brother when they went to Brazil?”
Jennifer’s eyes gleamed as she watched her husband recount the story.
“You really don’t remember that?”
“No. I don’t recall.”
Patton chuckled to himself again then stopped.
“What did you just say?”
“What?” Jennifer replied, confused at Patton’s sudden change of mood.
“What did you just say?”
“You asked me if I remember the story and I said I don’t recall him telling a story like that.”
Patton sat up quickly in bed. The effect of the alcohol in his system was suddenly gone. He swore and slapped himself on the forehead.