The Time of the Stripes

by Amanda Bridgeman

  “They can try.”

  “They can and will take it from you, Mr. Bracks. They are the military. You and your band of merry men are no match for them. Don’t let it come to that. If they do go in and you somehow manage to make it out alive, they will haul your ass into court, and then into prison. Is that what you want?”

  “To see you in court again?” Magnus’ voice dripped with menace.

  Russo was silent for a moment. “Mr. Bracks, I really hope you’re not doing all of this just to get at me.”

  “Well, now, that depends. Is it working?”

  “No, it’s not. It is only putting innocent lives at risk. But then again, that’s your specialty, isn’t it, Magnus? Putting people’s lives at risk.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This phenomenon has nothing to do with what happened to you those many years ago on my construction site. That was a different time, a different world. We spent years in and out of court arguing who was at fault, and the courts ruled in my favor. You didn’t take the necessary precautions that day, Magnus. You’re the reason you are in that wheelchair, not me and not my company. Do not turn the events of this phenomenon into a tool for your revenge against me. If you do, you will ruin countless people’s lives, including your own. Learn from the past, Magnus. Don’t let your actions create mistakes that you will then have to live with for the rest of your life.”

  “You know nothing of my life!” Magnus hissed. “You know nothing of the pain I went through, of the torment of this chair, the sting of those medical bills. All you know is how to stand there on your two perfect legs, smile for the crowd in your expensive suit, and look at your pretty Clean Skin in the mirror. You put me in this chair, Russo, and for that I hate you. But you really are an arrogant son of a bitch if you think this is only about you. You’re just the face of everything I have fought against my whole life. You aren’t worth spit to me. You step a foot over here into the SZ and we will kill you. That’s how little you mean to me. So you stay the hell over there in the Clean Zone and leave us be. We don’t want you. We don’t need you. And the sooner those aliens come back and take you, the better.”

  “Mr. Bracks—”

  “You are a waste of space and you will not control our lives any longer! Whatever power you think you had, you just lost it, Russo. I own this shit now. And however this turns out, I promise you, if I go down, I’m taking you with me. All. The. Way.”

  Bracks hung up, and Russo sat there, listening to the sound of the dial tone.

  *

  Richard, using his laptop, spent the morning drafting and redrafting a statement to refute the government’s lies. He must be up to his seventh or eighth draft by now. Often he found it rewarding, writing when he was fired up and passionate about something, but this was so different. As much as global warming, pollution, palm oil, and all of those things angered him, he could always write with a clear mind in the pursuit of informing and educating others. But this time, he was actually frightened of his own words. What reaction would they ignite? Could more people be hurt or killed as an indirect result of his reports? Was he better off staying silent? Or was it important that the people have another voice to equalize the playing field? Was it important that Dr. Pellan not be victimized for ultimately doing a good deed?

  “Coffee?” Abbie asked as she walked down a few steps into the basement.

  He looked up at her and gave a defeated smile. “I think that might be a good idea. I need all the help I can get.”

  She smiled back and motioned for him to come out of the basement.

  “Kaitlyn sleeping?” he asked Abbie as he entered the kitchen.

  “Yeah, she’s been trying to sleep when Charlie does,” Abbie told him, then glanced over her shoulder. “Those kids are ’round-the-clock work, huh?”

  Richard chuckled. “Definitely not for the faint of heart.”

  “She’s handling it well, though, given her mother’s not with her. She’s frightened, but she’s stronger than she looks.”

  “Yeah,” Richard nodded, “I can’t imagine how tough this must be on her. Being a teen mom is one thing, but to do it under these circumstances is another.”

  They exchanged a look of agreement as Abbie sat down at the kitchen table opposite him.

  “How’s the new report going?” she asked.

  “Not so great,” he confessed, taking a sip of his coffee, contemplating things. “Which is strange, you know? Writing narrations for my reports has always been my thing, and taking up causes is what I do. But this? This has shaken me a little. I guess I’ve learned a valuable lesson on the real power of words.”

  “You told the truth,” Abbie said, studying him. “There’s no shame in that. You haven’t learned the power of words, you’ve learned the power of the truth. Sometimes it hurts.”

  Richard gazed back at her. She was a virtual stranger, yet somehow he felt like he had known her for a long time. It was odd, he thought, to feel so comfortable in her company after so little time.

  “You seem older than your age,” he mused.

  Abbie smiled and shrugged. “I’m a swim coach. I teach kids. Let’s just say I quickly learned that I had to be the adult.”

  Richard broke into a soft laugh. She grinned and laughed in return.

  “God,” he shook his head, “I can’t remember the last time I laughed.”

  “Me either,” she said with a warm smile.

  “So you’re studying?” he asked.

  “You’ve done your research.”

  “Actually, no. I saw some textbooks in the living room before.”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “I was studying literature, but I’ve changed things around so that I can become an English teacher.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “For a while there, I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. But teaching the swim classes made me realize that I like being around kids. I like seeing them learn and evolve.” She shrugged. “My dad taught Little League. We used to go and watch the games on the weekend. And my mother always had her nose in a book. I guess I inherited my path in life from them.” A melancholy briefly touched her features. “Life has a funny way of taking you places.”

  “That it does. So you’re studying by correspondence?”

  “I was supposed to move to the city, but my father got laid off from his job. He sold farm equipment, but the drought slowed things down. Some blamed the Clivecorp plant for affecting things,” she shrugged. “Anyway, it was cheaper to stay here, work and study part-time.” She paused, her mind ticking over for a moment. “And I guess a part of me didn’t want to leave. This town is all I’ve known.”

  He nodded. “It’s a big world out there. It can look a little scary when you’re watching it from the outside, but once you’re in it, you just become part of it. Symbiotic.”

  “And you?” she asked. “Did you always know that you wanted to be a journalist?”

  Richard nodded. “I did. Well, at least from high school. When I was a kid I wanted to be a marine biologist. But yeah, I developed a love of travel and a fascination for people and animals. Mother nature just amazed me,” he said. “It’s such a wondrous thing, but I also realized that it could be a horrible thing. Mother nature has the power to be devastating. And then I learned that man often made things worse. As I got older, I saw that bad things were happening to people and animals around the globe, and I wanted to do something about it. I thought, hey, mother nature can be cruel and there’s not much we can do about that, but why do we need to mess it up and make things worse? I guess it just evolved from there.”

  “And the environmentalist was born,” she nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “So what’s been your biggest story?”

  “Besides this?” he smiled.

  “Well, yeah,” she smiled back, maybe blushing a little.

  He turned his chair around slightly and rested his head back against the wall
and trawled through his memory. “The biggest one, that I was at ground zero for, was probably the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.”

  “The Deepwater Horizon tragedy?” Abbie said.

  “Yeah. The deaths of those workers was terrible enough,” he continued, “but seeing the damage done to the ecosystem there afterward was horrifying. It was a fucking disaster,” he shook his head. “In between reports I volunteered to help clean things up. I mean, seeing animals covered in this thick, brown crap, the dead ones washing up on the shore . . . it was just awful. I felt so ashamed to be a human, seeing what we’d done to them. Then there’s the health effects on the humans themselves, living in the area, that they’re still discovering today.” He shook his head again. “Did you know there’re over 27,000 abandoned oil wells in the Gulf of Mexico? Some dating back to the 1940s? And tens of thousands have been reported as badly sealed.” He shook his head again, sighing sadly. “Man is sometimes a monster . . . but that said, I do remember the number of people who turned up to help. People from across the world, donating their time to try and help sort out the mess.”

  Abbie nodded, looking down into her cup. He watched her a moment.

  “Sometimes humans disappoint me,” he said, “but sometimes they surprise me too. Sometimes they give me hope . . . Like you did.”

  She looked up at him again.

  “You rushing out to help Kaitlyn against the mob was like all those people coming down to the beach to help the animals.”

  She stared at him. “And like you for exposing the truth the government was trying to hide. For trying to reunite people before it was too late.”

  He smiled a little sadly. “I’m not sure my actions can be held in the same regard, Abbie. So far I’ve caused more damage than good.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but her words were interrupted by a knock at the door. She instantly tensed and they locked eyes.

  “Go to the basement,” she said, standing up.

  She headed for the front door, but Richard couldn’t bring himself to hide. Instead, he moved up behind her, but stood out of sight of the open doorway.

  “Hello?” Abbie said, then seemed to pause as though she recognized the person.

  “Ms. Randell?” a familiar voice said. “You don’t know me but I—”

  Richard pulled back the door, startling Abbie. “Dr. Pellan?”

  *

  Lysart was both shocked and relieved to see Richard inside Abbie Randell’s house.

  “Mr. Keene?”

  Richard grabbed Lysart’s shirt and pulled him forward. “Get inside, quick!”

  Abbie closed the door and stared wide-eyed at the two of them.

  “What are you doing here?” Richard asked.

  “I could ask you the same question?”

  “I came to see that Abbie and Kaitlyn were alright,” Richard told him.

  Lysart nodded. “And I thought you might. Or rather, hoped. I came to see if Abbie had heard from you.”

  “Are you alright? Have you seen the news?” Richard asked.

  Lysart nodded. “It would seem I am a wanted man.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Pellan. I had no idea things would turn out like this.”

  “Don’t be, Mr. Keene. I saw your report. It was done well. I would have said nothing differently. You had no idea the reaction would be this, nor did I. But it is what it is, and we must face the consequences.”

  “What are you going to do?” Richard asked him.

  “I don’t know. That is why I was looking for you.”

  Richard nodded, then glanced at Abbie. “I’m sorry, Abbie, but would you mind if Dr. Pellan stays for a few moments to discuss things?”

  Abbie nodded. “We can’t leave him out on the street now, can we?”

  “No one recognized you on the way here?” Richard asked to check.

  “No, I don’t think so,” he said taking off his hat and unwrapping the scarf from around his neck and chin. He watched as Richard moved to the window and peered out.

  “There’re a lot of unfriendlies around here,” Richard told him.

  “Yes. So it would seem.”

  Richard ushered him through to the kitchen and Abbie poured him a coffee.

  Lysart sipped the drink, relieved at the warmth rolling into his empty belly, closing his eyes briefly to try and hold onto the feeling.

  “So what do we do?” Richard asked.

  “I have no idea. You, it would seem, have choices. They only want to question you. You could hand yourself in and they may not charge you with anything too serious. I, on the other hand . . . If I turn myself in I will go to prison. Or, who knows? Perhaps I might even disappear altogether.”

  “Surely not?” Richard asked.

  “I am a wanted man, Mr. Keene. You are merely guilty by association.” Lysart pulled out a folded newspaper from the inside pocket of his bulky coat and laid it on the table. The tabloid headline glared out at them:

  Pellan’s Theory Erupts into Chaos!

  “The phenomenon has a name,” Lysart told them. “Pellan’s Theory is everywhere. Some are starting to call the visitation the Pellan Phenomenon. This event which has taken place, this event that has stolen our loved ones, that has marked us, this evil, is now known by the name of Pellan.”

  Richard sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. Lysart glanced at Abbie’s troubled face as she stood leaning against the counter watching them.

  “What do you know of this Magnus Bracks?” Lysart asked, turning back to Richard. “What is behind this madman’s thinking?”

  Richard shrugged. “I don’t know much, but Abbie might know something.”

  The woman tensed as they both looked at her.

  “I know very little,” she said, shaking her head. “Josh is the one who has been going to their meetings.”

  Lysart turned to Richard. “We expected a reaction. We expected people to be angry. But we expected that anger to die down when they realized the importance of reuniting with their loved ones. This Magnus Bracks is trying to keep that anger burning. He is fanning the flames of ignorance.”

  “I know,” Richard nodded, “but how do we stop him?”

  “We can’t,” Lysart shrugged. “We are Clean Skins. We are the enemy now. And if we go out there and someone recognizes us, who knows what they’ll do. Whether they deal with us themselves, or whether they hand us over to the government, either way, we’re in deep trouble, Mr. Keene.”

  The three let silence sit between them.

  “I’ll call Josh,” Abbie suggested. “We’ll find out what he knows, see if he can help in some way.”

  “You think he’ll actually help us?” Richard asked skeptically.

  Lysart saw a hopeless look cross Abbie’s face.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Another one?” The young Clean Skin girl that Lysart had seen on the news stood in the kitchen doorway. She seemed to pause as she studied Lysart’s face. “Pellan’s Theory,” she murmured. “You’re Dr. Pellan?”

  Lysart’s shoulders sank as he turned to lock eyes with Richard.

  “It’s okay, Kaitlyn.” Abbie moved toward her and ushered her out of the room. “I’ll explain everything.”

  The two women left and Lysart heard their footsteps padding up the staircase he’d seen when he’d first entered the house. He raised his eyebrows at Richard.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked the reporter. “It is dangerous for them.”

  The reporter seemed to sigh and nod, and his eyes fell guiltily onto the table in front of him. “I know, but like you said, we caused this. We need to face the consequences.” He looked determined. “If we’re going to stay anywhere, it might as well be here in the eye of the storm.”

  “I think the eye has passed now,” Lysart said quietly. “The storm has begun to ravage us.”

  *

  Mayor Russo eyed the chief carefully.

  “Are you sure
about this?”

  Blackstone looked resolute. “Deputy Cann is AWOL. I need to find out what happened to him. The Striped Ones aren’t contagious, so I’ll be safe. And careful. I’m not stupid.”

  Russo couldn’t help the nervous look he knew was pasted across his face.

  “We give this a try,” Blackstone told him. “Me, alone, trying to talk some sense into him. As far as I’m aware, Magnus has no beef with me.”

  “And if he decides he does? Guilty by association and all that?”

  The chief shrugged. “Then we deal with that then. But if you want to keep this quiet and out of the press, then we need to keep the military out of it. This is our last chance to do that. If it doesn’t work, then we have no option but to send the military in. We need to end this, mayor. This cannot go on any longer.”

  “Alright,” Russo said, resigned. “Give it a try. But the second you sense trouble, get the hell out of there and back into the Clean Zone.”

  “Will do.” With that, Blackstone tipped his hat and left.

  *

  Abbie paced the living room waiting for Josh to come. Richard and Dr. Pellan waited in the basement. Given Josh’s reaction to the reporter, Abbie could just imagine the reaction if he saw Dr. Pellan there too. She’d sent Kaitlyn upstairs and told her not to leave her room. This conversation had to be between her and Josh alone. One Striped One to another.

  “Hey,” he appeared at her screen door, giving her a little fright.

  She spun around and quickly walked over to let him in.

  “What’s going on? I got your message?” he asked, stepping inside.

  She noted the dark circles under his eyes, the three welts running down his chin, his dirty hair.

  “Have you been taking your meds?”

  Josh stared at her with a look that said it was none of her business.

  In the background she saw a car drive down her street. Langdon and Trent were within, along with a couple of other younger guys. They were armed, and proudly displaying the fact.

  Josh glanced around to see what she was looking at. He turned back to her. “What did you want?”

  “I just wanted to know the latest. What’s going on with Magnus and Roy?” She fidgeted nervously.