by Maxey, Phil
“Okay.”
“On a different note,” she leaned on the back of the chairs, which faced the large screens built into the cave walls.
“You want to know if I’m going to the start of the trial?”
“I know you haven’t seen him since we brought him in.”
“There’s not been any need too. I’ve given everything I could remember of my investigation to the prosecutors, it’s up to them now.”
Trow put her hand on his shoulder. “I have no doubt he will pay for what he did Zach,” she then stepped back. “Nathan is on sub level nine, ask the guards there and they will take you to him.”
A few minutes later Zach was being taken down one of the newly drilled tunnels, past a series of gray metallic doors with numbers on. Finally the guard arrived at door ‘Eighty three’ and swiped a keycard across a small box, which produced a small tone sound. The door unlocked, and as soon as the guard opened it, a stifling smell of sweat hit Zach.
“I’ve been told to give you twenty minutes,” the guard said then pointed for Zach to move inside.
The man Zach carried over his shoulder, was sitting on a small gray bench, on the right of the nine by twelve cell. The artificial light made Nathan Miller look even older than his fifty some years, and he sat with his knees together, hands in his lap, looking at the floor in front of him.
Zach walked slowly into the space which looked uncannily like the one he had become accustomed to over many years, and he could feel the pressure of the cell door closing even before the guard did so.
He steadied himself. “Do you remember me?”
“So what if I do?” said Nathan, not shifting his gaze from the floor.
Zach leaned against the wall, almost opposite Nathan. “Good, then you know what I want.”
“I’ll tell you what I told the others, I don’t know anything. Don’t know about no gang, and no fella called Geneva.”
“Nathan. Do you mind if I call you Nathan?”
Miller sat up slightly, indignant. “That’s my name.”
“Life must have been pretty hard out there, scratching in the dirt, while running from the monsters.”
“I managed.”
“Well if you give me information on where Geneva is holed up, you can live behind the camp walls, and have your own place, I’m sure something can be found for you.”
Miller starting rocking slightly back and forth. It had been almost a decade since Zach had interrogated someone, and up until Miller’s physical change he wasn’t sure he wasn’t making any impact.
“I don’t know anything,” his rocking intensified.
“Just imagine, your own apartment, warm running water, a TV. They even have a welfare program here for those that need it.”
“I don’t know anything!” Nathan shouted, while looking directly at Zach.
“Hey, if Geneva can provide better, then fine, carry on protecting him.”
“Geneva looks after his people well!” as soon as the words escaped from Millers mouth, he knew he had misspoken. “I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“So you do know who he is then? Anything you can tell me, will help and that will help you.”
Miller returned to his rocking.
“If you don’t cooperate, we are throwing you back out into the desert, is Geneva really worth it?”
Then Miller did something Zach wasn’t expecting, he gave out a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Miller looked once again directly at Zach. “You and the others, you’ll all fools. Geneva helps his friends. He knows where I am. He knows where we all are.”
A shock went through Zach’s body, making him breath in slowly, but he didn’t show it. How the hell does Geneva know he’s here?
“Geneva can’t help you, only I can, if you tell me where he is…”
Zach didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as there was a commotion outside the cell door, which then opened.
The guard appeared, flush faced. “Captain, General Trow needs you in operations, there’s an incident happening at the computer centre.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Arnold Dawson sat in the back of his black chauffeur driven sedan, and sighed. Even with the darkened windows and it being just after midday, the reporters flash photography was making his eyes start to water. Removing his small round glasses he rubbed his eyes with a white cloth his former wife had given him on his sixtieth birthday. He always kept it in his inside pocket. Taking a deep breath, he returned the glasses to just above his nose, put the cloth away and opened the car door.
A flurry of clicks and flashes were intermingled with questions about his role as the prosecuting attorney for the council, and what he thought the chances of a quick trial would be.
Being in his seventies, and having practiced law for thirty years before his retirement, he knew the best course of action on the steps of any courthouse was to smile and look like this was just another day at work. But this wasn’t one of those days, this was the biggest criminal case in the short history of Camp Bravo and the council had put their trust in him to get a quick guilty verdict.
The press said this was a slam dunk, and after listening to the recording that Tinley made in the penthouse of an office building in Roswell, Arnold was obliged to agree, but in his many years of practicing law he knew nothing ever went according to plan.
He climbed out of the car, and stood up straight. At six foot three he could see over the heads of most of those around him, and he strode forward with confidence in his classic cut beige suit. Grinning at those around him he constantly moved forward towards the large glass doors set behind the pillars of the impressive nineteenth century courthouse.
Guards in military uniform, pushed the reporters back as he got close to the doors, and Daisy and Theodor from his legal team joined him as his immaculately polished shoes touched the equally reflective floor of the entrance hall.
Arnold took a quick glance at the young man and woman that he had hand picked for this case, and smiled, but this time it was a genuine smile of someone who recognized his younger self. “Both of you just breathe, this first session shouldn’t take long.”
Walking up some stone stairs, they moved into a hallway with some more guards but no one else. Arnold turned to Daisy his co-counsel. “Remember, just look confident, I’ll do the rest.” After a quick glance at Theodor, they all entered the chamber.
It was packed, mostly by families of those that had lost their lives on the way back from Portland, but there were others that Arnold didn’t recognize. This was all par for the course for a major trial he thought. As he walked down the central aisle, most in the large domed room quietened down, and when he got to his chair at the front, he looked across at Tinley and his attorney. Tinley was smiling. Clearly insane.
A small balding man in uniform entered the room, and turned to the people in the chamber. “All rise, Judge Reinhart presiding.”
As everyone got to their feet, an equally small woman in her late sixties, black robes and shoulder length blonde hair entered the hushed large room and sat promptly in her seat. Everyone else sat as well.
“We are here today to hear the case of the Council of Camp Bravo versus Eric Tinley. It has been agreed between both the prosecutors and the defendants’ attorneys that this case shall be decided by this court and not a military court. And with that we shall begin. Mr. Dawson you may proceed with your opening statement.”
Arnold pushed his glasses up, stood and grinned at the jury. “Eric Tinley is a mass murderer. How do we know this?” he then moved out from behind the desk, and walked a few feet towards where the twelve men and women were intently watching him. 1994 was the last time he stood in front of a jury, and in a fraction of a second, his mind returned to his wife, and how it was for her he gave up his career in practicing law to become a professor. Back at it, Carol.
“We know because Eric Tinley admitted that he is a mass murderer. We have his admission of
guilt on tape. The defense will try to argue that he killed those poor girls due to insanity I’m sure, but…” The door at the back of the court opened, and a guard appeared out of breath, spoke to some of the others guards, and they all left, just leaving the court foreman at the front.
Arnold cleared his throat and in doing so once again glanced at Tinley who was still smiling but this time he also noticed a number of individuals also smiling and looking directly at him.
The judge leaned forward. “Mr. Dawson?”
“Yes, forgive me your honor. As I was saying…” Arnold continued for a few minutes more, detailing Tinley’s crimes, while trying to read the jurors reactions. Finally he got to the last part of his statement. “In conclusion, the council will be seeking the death sentence for My Tinley, which is the only possible outcome which will give justice to all that have suffered by this mans hands.”
As Arnold turned, he felt good about how the last ten minutes had gone, his gaze then caught Tinley’s, who was smiling with the intensity of someone who clearly didn’t care if others thought he was insane. Something’s wrong.
Arnold sat, and Daisy patted him on the shoulder.
“Ms. Helfer, if you could now give the defenses opening statement.”
Susan Helfer stood. “The prosecution case is…”
“Is completely true!” said Tinley as he stood, towering over his five foot four defense attorney.
The judge frowned. “Mr. Tinley, you will have a chance too…”
“To what? To plead for my life? I have a better idea,” he then grabbed Ms. Helfer by the shoulders, spinning her around, his arm wrapping around her throat. She immediately started grasping for air. A ripple of alarm and fright flowed across the room.
The judge stood up. “Guards…” She realized there weren’t any in the chamber. “Foreman, stop him!”
The uniformed middle-aged man just shy of five foot six, reached for his sidearm and was swiftly hit on the back of the head by a large man wearing a denim jacket, with a ponytail. He then reached down and slid the revolver out of the foreman’s holster, walked to Tinley, and handed it to him as Tinley let go of red faced woman he was suffocating.
Arnold was frozen half out of his chair, but sat back down when he saw Tinley with the gun. A woman at the back of the room, placed some chairs up against the handles of the large carved doors.
Tinley walked around and stood at the front of the court, facing everyone and ignoring the judge just a few feet away. “Now, I know for many of you this is a highly anxious time, but please stay seated and most of you will be back home with your loved ones very soon.”
The judge stood up from her chair. “You will not get…”
The sound of the handgun was deafening in the chamber, and the force of the blast knocked the middle-aged judge back into her chair, which when slid backwards against the wooden paneling, all of which was now covered in deep red blood. At least two women, started screaming.
“Well I did say ‘most’ would survive our little ordeal, you can’t say I didn’t warn any of you. And anyway as our elderly attorney over here,” Tinley walked towards Arnold and Daisy who was clutching her mentor. “Has very obviously made clear I am an individual who likes to kill as many people as I can. Usually I… well, I started out being very specific with whom I removed, but beggars can’t be choosers as they say. Right, most of you won’t be aware but there’s also been an incident elsewhere in this camp of yours, one which was meant to draw the guards from here, and it worked! It really is great there are no cellular phone networks anymore, really makes planning things like this a whole lot easier. Now, who wants to be my hostage?”
The inhabitants of the chamber, apart from the two who were working with Tinley, cowered down even lower. He walked to the front of Arnold's desk, looming over it, and picked up the name tag that was lying on top.
“Daisy Castillo, hmm you’re a pretty one. You remind me of a girl I killed a long time ago.”
Arnold leaned in front of her. “You stay away from her!”
Tinley lurched forward and placed the barrel of the gun up against Arnold's forehead. “Old man, do you want to die? Don’t you think those around you have been traumatized enough today?”
Arnold froze in his seat. I have to do something.
Daisy stood up. “I’ll go with you! Just leave him alone.”
Tinley let the gun linger on the skin of the elderly prosecutor’s head, and then pulled it away leaving a red mark. “Another time then old man,” he then turned to the man with the ponytail and the woman who had joined them. “It’s time I had my freedom back.” All four of them, then left by the door the judge and foreman entered from.
CHAPTER SIX
Dust, ice and rocks danced into the air as Zach’s pickup plowed along the tree lined road to where the ‘incident’ was happening. They know that she’s changed. Maybe she’s done something? Hurt someone like Cal did? I should have told her.
As he skidded onto the highway, he half expected the camp’s sirens to start up, but from what Trow had told him, people had been seen running and screaming from the newly decked out computer centre, with no apparent cause. There had also been reports of gunfire, but as far as Trow could tell none of her people were in the area nor the newly formed justice force, although they were both on their way.
He clicked on his radio and tried Abbey again, but for the seventh time, there was only static as a reply. He then changed to another frequency, one that only he and the squad he were part of, would know to use and clicked again. “Fiona, Cal, anyone out there?”
The pickup bumped up and down as Fiona’s voice came from his radio. “I’m here Zach’s what’s up? Over.”
“There’s something going down at the computer centre in Granite Falls, I could do with some backup. Over.”
“We’re on our way, should be there in about thirty. Over.”
The new multi-story buildings that were in a race with similar in the west quadrant of the camp, were only a few miles away and Zach felt under his seat for the shotgun that he kept there. Pulling it out, he also reached behind and pulled forward his armored tactical vest and put both on the passenger’s seat. None of that was for Abbey, but for anyone who might be endangering her, regardless of her state of mind.
He banged on the steering wheel. Should have told her.
As buildings rose up around him, he pulled onto the main street, which was within eyeshot of the former Mexican restaurant that now gave people access to the camps internal database through a collection of old computers.
He changed back to the main radio frequency, the General’s voice immediately came from the speaker. “Zach, you there, Over.”
“I’m here General. Over.”
“It’s not caused by E.L.F’s, seems to have been some men, stormed the place, I’ve sent a squad there to join you, they are twenty minutes behind you. Over.”
Are the old computers that valuable? It was a question with no sensible answer, as he approached the forecourt in front of the single story building. Skidding to a stop, he looked around, there was no sign of anyone, but Abbey’s own vehicle, a red pickup sat just a few yards from the front entrance.
Putting the body armor on, he grabbed the shotgun and opened the pickup’s door, placing one foot on the ground and waiting for a response, but none came. A clear sky above his head allowed the sun direct access to the ground, but it was still a chilly day that Zach stepped out into. Looking in as many directions as he could, and without seeing any sign of life, he walked towards the entrance of the computer centre, trying to see inside, but the smoked windows blocked out most of the daylight, and only gave a hint of what was within. He moved quicker into a jog, and approached the glass door. Even with the smoked glass he could see somebody’s hand pressed up against it, on the opposite side, near the floor.
Leaning as close as he dared to, to the glass, he looked inside to a scene of carnage. Bodies strewn on the carpeted floor, together with partially
smoking computer monitors filled the room on the other side of the door.
Zach pushed the door gently, and the hand which belonged to a teenager, folded backwards just enough for Zach to smell the metallic smell which by now he knew all too well. He looked down at the young man, and seeing that he was obviously dead, pushed the door harder, causing the body to slide backwards slightly.
Now he was inside, he ducked down, giving his eyes time to adjust to the artificial light. Six people he could count dead within twenty feet of him. This would have once been a bustling restaurant with families eating spicy food, and Abbey wanted it to have a similar vibe again, but also infused with learning for the young of the camp. She didn’t want them to regress to a time before computing, and thought it was her role to teach them just how useful a computer could be, especially now they had access to an internet of sorts.
Abbey’s not here. He stood up and listened, no noise accompanied the lack of any movement, but he moved from body to body checking pulses anyway. Two of the six still had a beating heart, regardless of whoever tried to kill them. Looking towards the entrance to the kitchen, he walked slowly forwards, being ready to dive under a desk if he needed. He pushed the swing door to the kitchen gently open. This area they had kept in its original use, and steel pots and pans covered the floor, some with food still in. Zach walked in slowly, there was no one here. Where is she?
The sound of vehicles pulling up outside made its way to where he was, and he squinted to see two Humvees and what looked like the General, accompanied with at least five soldiers. Justice officers were also arriving.
Returning his attention to the kitchen, he walked through, avoiding the wet areas on the tiles, and arrived at a rear door which was propped open by a backpack, one that he recognized.
“Zach you in here?” the Generals voice was just audible.
“Back here!” he shouted in return, and then leaned down and picked up Abbey’s belongings. He quickly rifled through the bag, finding everything where it should be, including her radio. The external door at the opposite end of the corridor which ran from the back of the kitchen, looked a million miles away as Zach ran down it, pushing the door open without caring what might be on the other side. Nothing.
