So what is the comic book character that has vanquished all of his enemies supposed to do, take up scrapbooking? Asher laughed at that. Maybe the maintenance of power would prove to be as challenging as the acquisition of it. He suddenly thought of his number two, his right hand man Brian White. He quickly proved to be much more loyal, cunning, and potentially dangerous than Asher thought possible. So what was there to do now? He was the power in Blue Creek now and there were things that had to be done. And if they had to be done, why wait? Things were about to change in Blue Creek.
He thought of Patton Larsen and grimaced again. The man had always seemed to be one or two steps ahead of Charlie Henry. The governor couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out if Larsen had been taken out that first summer. Asher shook his head with regret—both with missed opportunities and the fact that something would have to be done about Larsen at some point.
The sun was setting behind him. The mountains where he stood on cast a long shadow down towards the valley and the town. Asher thought it symbolic—his shadow would lie over the town and these people would finally realize what he was capable of doing.
Whether it was the hot weather or the current economic and social conditions in Blue Creek, no one knew, but it seemed as if the life and spirit had been sucked out of the people. While traveling around town and working his business, Patton thought his neighbors were beginning to resemble the people of New York City—a people so stressed about merely surviving they didn’t have enough energy to smile. The fact that these people had been beaten down by their government and their leaders bothered Patton more than anything. Part of him wanted to shrug his shoulders and let them suffer. He’d fought the good fight and gotten his friend killed in the process. He’d given up so much for them and what did they do? They let themselves get fooled and re-elected the man who had caused all of their pain.
Still, there was part of Patton that couldn’t let go. He either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give up on these people. He was their protector, and no matter how many times they let him down, he would always try to protect them. However, things were in such a bad state that nothing came to mind. Running for City Council would be useless—he would only be a solitary voice in a sea of Asher sycophants. He could run against Asher again, but he didn’t have it in him. Another option was to cash out and go home. He had the money. Hell, he and Frank had cleared enough money they could both buy their way out and go home. In fact, that very idea had come up again the day before.
As a kid, Patton watched old western movies with his Dad. Patton loved the simplicity of those movies—there were good guys and there were bad guys. The good guys wore white hats. The bad guys wore black hats. Usually in those movies, the good guy would leave or be forced out of town. However, he would gather himself and come back to make things right. Could he leave? Could he be that man who left the townspeople in need of a hero? He thought of Jennifer and Mike and Frank and everything that had happened to them and decided that yes, he could leave them.
Frank was taking his wife Shontae home to be with their children and grandchildren. She had been feeling those old pains returning. Frank got his Blue Creek letter a week after Jennifer and he had already left the business. He was now working at City Hall as the head accountant, and predictably, he was miserable. Frank stopped by their old offices every day to see Patton and told his old business partner that he had to do something about what was happening. Patton would just purse his lips and shake his head. He stopped repeating the fact that there was nothing he could do.
The Insight spy network was still intact, but it had been compromised. No longer would the bosses receive accurate reports that reflected true events. As David Asher tightened his grip of the city, he was doing the same to more of Bao’s colleagues. Bao tried to find a way to get around the scrutiny he was under, but he was too scared. If people were willing and able to kidnap you and hold you captive, they were also likely to be willing to do much worse.
Though his life was mostly back to normal, Bao wasn’t happy with the way things were going in town. The thought that he was under someone else’s control galled him. He’d always been a free spirit, which is much of the reason he was in this place to begin with. He didn’t want out, but he didn’t want to take it. Bao’s thoughts turned to Patton Larsen as they often did when he felt this sense of righteous anger.
He’d tried to contact fellow spies but none were willing to talk to him. He could tell that all of them had either been taken, or had heard of others being taken, and didn’t want the same to happen to them. Bao also knew that there was no way the Asher regime would let him leave Blue Creek for any reason, fearing that he’d try to contact his bosses. No, Bao reasoned. He may have been trapped geographically, but he decided he wasn’t going to be trapped psychologically anymore.
Suddenly, something dawned on Bao—a way to contact Patton without arousing suspicion. Since his abduction, Bao sent an employee to service Patton’s offices. He didn’t want Asher’s goons to suspect that he was trying to slip him information. Bao now had a way to contact him. He took a small notepad and started writing.
The breeze off the lake was brisk at two in the morning. Patton had never been out here at this time of night, but, then again, he’d never had a reason to do so. A light mist clung to the banks and hung out over the middle of the lake. The scenery reminded Patton of some bad horror movies he’d seen as a kid. If he weren’t here for such a serious reason, he might have laughed at that thought. He checked his watch.
Patton was out at the fishing shop that he’d purchased. He now owned the boat, and for this little meeting, he was going to use it to get out into the middle of the lake. To remind himself of why he was out at such an ungodly hour, Patton pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and read it by the shop’s security light.
“Patton. Important. We need to meet. Bao.”
Patton found the note underneath the label of the bottle of Diet Pepsi he bought from the vending machine. He was the only person in the building who drank that particular drink, and Bao must have somehow known that. The two continued this ruse, sticking notes in places where other people wouldn’t look, in order to arrange this meeting.
It finally struck Patton, though. Here he was, supposedly living in a free society, having to meet another supposedly free citizen in the dead of night out in the middle of nowhere. He contrasted the town’s current situation with what the city’s original charter was supposed to be—complete freedom. The contrast was striking. He suddenly understood how the Founding Fathers would feel were they able to see modern America.
Patton was beginning to wonder if an outside government would intervene now that things were bad and getting worse. He had no way of knowing that the organizers of the experiment had essentially gotten a jurisdictional waiver from all levels of government. They assured government officials that everything would be fine. If anything went wrong, they would notify the government. Somehow there had been a breakdown. Maybe that’s why Bao was so hell-bent on meeting him out here now, and just as he thought that, Patton could hear the crunch of gravel under a car’s tires. Bao was only using his fog lamps, obviously trying to be discrete. When he opened the door, however, the dome light blazed through the darkness.
“So much for being inconspicuous,” Patton said to Bao after he reached him.
Bao looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot to turn off the light.”
Patton shrugged and started walking towards the dock where his fishing boat was moored. Bao followed behind him quietly. They both boarded without a word. Patton started the motor, untied the lines, and cast off. Patton steered the boat north and they traveled for five minutes before Patton killed the engine and brought the boat to a coasting stop. He unwound his anchor and threw it out, shut off all lights, and then sat down in the padded seat across the Bao.
Bao was waiting for Patton to say something, but
Patton gestured for him to speak.
“You wanted this meeting. What’s up?”
Bao looked around cautiously and then hunched over, drawing Patton in close.
“Bao. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. You can just talk to me,” Patton said, trying to assure him.
“Okay, man. I’m just nervous,” he said.
Patton finally noticed how frightened his young friend seemed.
“They know about us,” Bao started, but then realized Patton wouldn’t necessarily know what he was talking about. “Asher knows about the Insight spies,” he clarified.
Patton straightened in his seat, never taking his eyes off of Bao’s.
“How?” he asked, his voice a little tense.
Bao shook his head. “I don’t know.” All the sudden one of the reports that goes to the bosses at Insight says that two agents are missing. Then poof! They reappear,” Bao said, making an elaborate gesture with his hands.
Patton chewed on this information for a moment and then Bao said something even more disturbing.
“They picked me up too,” he said, subconsciously wincing at the memory.
“Who?” Patton asked, his eyes narrowing with anger.
Bao shrugged. “They had me in a dark room the whole time. Whenever they took me out I had a hood on my head.”
Patton let out a loud breath of air and stood up. He paced around the boat for a moment and then asked, “Why do you think they did it?”
Bao cleared his throat, surprised how difficult it was for him to talk about his experience.
“They told me not to report anything negative. I’m still supposed to report, but they know that the company is taking the reports and if anything gets too bad they might bring in the authorities.”
“Is that your bosses’ plan? To bring in the authorities if things get out of hand?”
Bao shrugged again, frustrating Patton. The kid was a spy but he really didn’t know anything about what was going on above him in his company. Patton sighed and sat back down in his seat. He looked at Bao then away from him then across the water at nothing in particular.
Finally he said, “What do you want me to do then?”
Bao arched his back and reached into his pants pocket. He removed something and handed it towards Patton.
“What’s this?” Patton asked, confused.
“It’s a thumb drive. It’s got all the contact information for people at Insight. It’s got the names and contact info for the network in town.” Then Bao looked at him earnestly. “You need to get in touch with them. You need to let them know what’s happening here, or what you think is going to happen. They all think everything is fine and dandy because all of our reports are telling them so.”
Patton looked at the drive as he twirled it around in his hands, deep in thought.
“They’re watching me too, Bao,” Patton said, swallowing hard. “I know that they watch me and whatever I do.”
Bao became even more nervous, but he thought it through.
“Look,” he said, perhaps more confidently than he actually felt, “they’re watching you but you can leave Blue Creek. You’re too prominent a figure for them to do anything. They know you’re against Asher and if anything weird happened the whole town would know who did it.”
Patton nodded but said, “Yeah, but what if they decided to make their move while I was outside of Blue Creek? How would anyone ever know about it?”
Bao sat back in his seat, deflated. He hadn’t thought of that.
“But I’ll do it,” Patton said. “I’ve had a vacation on the books for a while now. It’s coming up in a couple weeks. I’ll just take this,” he said, looking at the drive and then putting it into his pocket, “and I’ll take it to them.”
Bao exhaled loudly in relief.
“But remember, we tried this before and they didn’t do anything about it remember?” Patton said. Bao nodded. Patton continued. “Who’s to say that they’ll do anything now? Who’s to say that any police will come in here and try to stop Asher? I’m just saying … just because we get this to them doesn’t mean anything will come of it.”
That thought had never occurred to Bao, but he realized that Patton was right. No matter. They had to do what they could.
“We need to try,” Bao said with conviction. “I think they’re going to start putting us all in that big prison,” he said, pointing up towards the eastern hills where David Asher’s monstrosity was being built. “I’d rather go down fighting than go there,” he said, not realizing that was where he was held captive.
Patton smiled and nodded at that. “That’s the spirit, kid,” he said and got up to start the boat’s motor.
PART FOUR
REBELS
CHAPTER
25
As much as it was possible, life began to return to normal. Asher’s new restrictions on travel outside Blue Creek initially had a chilling effect on the citizenry, but again, it became something that people got accustomed to. More difficult was the constant presence of police and Blue Creek Security agents. Not only did they patrol the hills that surrounded the valley, but they also roamed around downtown. Many of them were armed with pistols. Though the prison wasn’t completed yet, it had its first “visitors.”
Two families, who had been neighbors since the experiment began, went into the eastern hills to hike and camp. They struck camp in the middle of the night and tried to make their way through one of the many low passes that leads through to the other side of the mountains. They were caught by a roving patrol of security guards. The parents were arrested and became the first occupants of the prison, which was becoming the symbol of all that was wrong with Blue Creek. The children were placed in the care of the city. There were even news stories that showed how compassionate Governor Asher was towards the kids, who had so obviously been led astray by their parents.
But it wasn’t just the story about the family that tried to escape—the media was in protection mode 24 hours per day. They published puff pieces about Asher and other government officials. Those who suspected collusion between the town’s TV stations, newspapers, and news websites were right. Editors from the many media outlets had weekly meetings with the government to coordinate future messaging. Charlie and Anna would have been proud, Asher thought. If not proud per se, they would have to be impressed. The governor couldn’t imagine his former cronies could have done any better. The wounds from the recall election and Mike Wilson’s assassination still hadn’t closed, but Asher could feel that the city was starting to move past it. Things were starting to ebb.
Perhaps most important was how quiet Patton Larsen had been. He’d removed his blog site from the intranet. He no longer wrote op-eds for the papers or appeared on the news. He’d basically become a non factor in Blue Creek politics. Asher was worried that Larsen was up to something. Those worries would have to go to the backburner, however. He had a city to run.
In early September Frank received a call from his oldest son. He’d returned to Blue Creek to handle some problems with his business, but he was scheduled to return to his wife’s side a month later.
“She’s fading, Dad. You better come home.”
Frank had already packed a bag for this inevitability. On his way out of town he stopped by Patton’s farm. Patton heard his car pull up and watched his friend walk to his door. Frank looked defeated. He could see that the news wasn’t good. Jennifer answered the door and invited him in. Frank hesitated, thinking he’d better get back on the road, but he stepped in the door, his head hung low. With his large fingers interlaced in front of him, Frank looked at Jennifer and Patton in turn. He started to speak but only a sigh escaped. Jennifer went to Frank and hugged him. Apparently her touch was the last straw. They both broke down and began to weep. Huge tears rolled down Patton’s face and he stepped in to hug his friend.
When he regained
his composure, Frank said, “Thanks guys. You were the best thing that ever happened to us.”
Patton waved it off, but Frank nodded sincerely.
“Shontae loved you Jennifer,” he said, taking her dainty hand in his. “You made her feel like she was just one of the girls. I don’t think she ever felt that way before. And you, Patton, you helped me so I could spend more time at home with her. That meant a lot to her.”
There was another round of hugs and Frank walked out to his car.
A week later, on the day that Shontae died, Frank called and broke the news to them. The funeral would be held later that week. Frank would return a week after that, he told them.
“You’re coming back?” Patton asked, surprised.
“Yeah. My kids are okay. I need to get back to where Shontae was the happiest. Besides,” he said, and Patton could hear the twinkle in his voice, “you’re going to need me for what you have planned.”
“Planned?” Patton asked, his eyebrows raised. “And what is that exactly?”
Frank chuckled and said, “Well, I don’t know exactly, but I know you. You, my friend, have always got something cookin’ up in that head of yours.”
Patton laughed. “You’re right,” he said, “I’ll tell you all about it when you get home.”
“Sounds good, buddy,” Frank said, and hung up.
As he often did after work, Patton took the long way around the lake to his house in the eastern hills. He’d caught himself daydreaming a few times, almost running off the road. He thought of his first wife, his kids, his mother. He thought of Mike and Shontae and hot tears stung at his eyes. He wiped at them awkwardly, fighting to keep a clear view of the road.
Patton continued to speed along the highway, gazing down towards the beautiful town below.
Careful Measurements Page 29
