by P. T. Hylton
Zed turned to face the man, and his face grew cold. “Earl Garrison. You have been found guilty of stealing your mother-in-laws’ rations and neglecting her in the face of danger from the Unfeathered. She died because you didn’t care enough to take her somewhere safe after her neighborhood was lost. You have been sentenced to two months Away. Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?”
Earl pointed to Anita. “Yo man, I don’t know what happened to her, but I don’t want none of that. Send me up to NTCC. I don’t want no part of that other thing.”
Zed nodded to the police officers standing on the side of the stage. Two of them came forward and held Earl’s arms down by his side. Zed slipped the necklace over his head.
“Under Regulation 19, your sentence begins now.”
“Yo, this ain’t right! I should be allowed to know what’s going on here. I—” Zed pressed the gold loop with his finger, and Earl changed.
The man looked years older. He was naked except for the necklace, and his chest and legs were covered with half-healed cuts. His head was a mess of dried blood and stubble as if his hair had been shaved with a dull knife.
Earl didn’t speak. He squinted out at the crowd as if the sun was too much for him. He lifted his right hand to shield his eyes. The hand ended in five jagged nubs where his fingers had been only moments before.
Earl tried to take a step forward, and he collapsed into Zed. His breath came in ragged gasps.
“Your debt is paid, brother,” Zed said. He nodded to the police officers. Someone stepped up and wrapped a blanket around Earl.
The pit of fear in Frank’s stomach exploded into a cold chasm. There it was. The terror he had been waiting for all morning.
Zed turned to him. “Your turn.” He felt the two police officers behind him grab his arms. Zed slipped the necklace over Frank’s head. The gold loop was heavy against his chest. Frank had expected the crowd to cheer when his time came, but they gave him only silence.
Christine moved so fast that Frank barely had time to register what she was doing. One moment she was standing on the side of the stage, the next moment she stood behind Zed. She had the knife, the one with the symbol of the broken clock. She snapped the knife open and held it to Zed’s neck.
“No,” she said. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “No. You let him go.”
“Doctor,” Zed said, “What are you doing?” He still smiled his broad smile, but there was a quiver in his voice.
The eight police officers drew their weapons and pointed them at Christine. Zed waved them away.
Frank glanced to his right and saw Will crouching near the front of the stage, unzipping a backpack. Zed and the police officers hadn’t noticed him yet. All of their attention was on Christine. Will reached into the backpack and pulled out a roundish white object. It took Frank a moment to recognize it: the Birdie head from the freezer at the Hansens’. Will set the head on the stage and pulled something out of his pocket. The lighter with the broken clock symbol. He flipped the lid open and held it near the head.
Frank’s eyes scanned the crowd for Trevor, but he didn’t see the boy.
Christine grabbed Zed’s shoulder and swung him around a quarter turn, the knife still pressed to his neck. Will was ten feet directly in front of them.
Zed’s eyes widened when he saw Will. “Take it easy. Let’s talk this through.”
Christine nodded to Will.
Will flicked the lighter and it burst to life. “How do you like my book learning now, Zed?” He moved the flame to the beak. As soon as the fire touched the head, it burst into flames as if it were made of old newspaper. The decapitated head’s eyes shot open and it opened its beak and let out its familiar song.
Christine yelled to the crowd, “Go home! They’re coming. The Unfeathered are coming! Go home before it’s too late.”
One, then two, then three white specks appeared in the sky overhead. They were high up, but they were slowly circling. Their distant voices joined the song of their brother on the stage.
The crowd moved like a living thing, wriggling and squirming away from the stage. A few people screamed in terror as they noticed the Birdies circling above, lazily looping lower toward the ground.
Frank felt the hands on his arms fall away. He wanted to run, to help Christine and Will, but he had no idea how. He stood and waited.
Zed’s smile was gone now, replaced with a snarl. He turned and spoke to the crowd, and his voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. “Wait. Stop.”
To Frank’s surprise, they did. They froze, almost all of them, and turned to look at the stage.
Zed turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at Christine. “Here. Let me help you.” He grabbed the hand holding the knife and pulled it hard across his own neck. . Christine stepped back, her mouth hanging open.
Blood poured from Zed’s neck, darkening his purple t-shirt. He turned and took a step toward Christine. “Is that what you wanted? Did you want to cut my throat? Watch me bleed out like an animal in front of my town?”
He grabbed the knife from Christine’s hand and tossed it down onto the stage. He walked over, pulled the blanket from the crouching and shivering Earl Garrison, and wiped the blood off his neck.
Frank felt the breath catch in his throat. Zed’s throat was whole and uninjured under the blood. It was as if the cut had healed in only a moment.
Zed took three quick steps toward Will and tossed the blanket over the blazing head, smothering the flames. The song stopped. The three Birdies in the sky circled one more time as if listening for the song, then shot into the clouds above.
The police officers leapt forward, one tackling Christine to the ground and another grabbing Will.
“They never learn, do they?” Zed said. He was pacing across the front of the stage now, addressing the crowd. “The enemies of justice are everywhere. They are hiding among us.”
He turned toward Christine, pinned to the stage by the officer who had tackled her. “Among our most trusted citizens. But understand this, my friends. They cannot hide, not for long. Because they despise justice so much that they can’t help but reveal themselves in the face of it, as we have seen here today.
“These two people we considered friends—” He spat out the word like a curse. “—have shown themselves to be enemies of Rook Mountain. So they, like all enemies of Rook Mountain, will be judged under Regulation 19. In our town, justice cannot, will not, be stopped.”
“Uncle Frank.” The voice came from behind him.
“But let’s finish what we started,” Zed said. “Frank Hinkle, for acts of terrorism against the city of Rook Mountain, you have been sentenced to spend the rest of your natural life Away. You will not be given the chance to speak. Your actions have spoken louder than your words ever could.”
Frank turned and saw Trevor crouched down near him. He held out his hand, palm up, to Frank. The open knife was resting in it.
Quick as he could, Frank reached for the knife. Even as he was reaching for it, he thought he saw a hint of a smile returning to Zed’s face.
Frank’s hand was almost there, almost touching the knife, but Zed was faster. His finger shot toward the gold loop resting on Frank’s chest.
Frank kept reaching. His hand was almost to the weapon. Another inch and he’d have it.
Then the world blinked out of existence.
THE UNREGULATED (PART 2)
Jake and Todd were at the river. In spite of spending most evenings driving around town with the cane, waiting for it to detect something, the group was in the middle of a long dry spell. Since the mirror, they hadn’t found anything.
Todd and Jake had spent the last few nights out at the Gray River. The cane hummed like crazy out there, drawing itself toward a spot in the water. Digging in the river bed was messy, dangerous work, and they had yet to turn up anything. Tonight the group had decided that Jake and Todd would dig out there again while Wendy and Will used the cane to searc
h another part of town.
Jake and Todd approached the river. Todd was a few yards ahead of Jake. Jake almost crashed into him when Todd stopped at the top of the embankment. Then he saw what had caused his friend to freeze.
Zed stood near the edge of the water, arms crossed and that ever-present smile on his face. “Evening, gentlemen.”
“Hello, Zed,” Todd said. Jake stepped forward alongside his friend, but he didn’t say anything.
“The police are on their way,” Zed said.
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” Todd said.
Zed shrugged. “We’ll think of something. I’ve been watching you two since last night. I appreciate your independent spirit. Still, I don’t see the need for all the clandestine stuff.”
“Really?” Todd asked. “People are being killed. Branded. You’ve trapped us all in this town and told us to like our prison. You don’t understand why we might not be super public with our objections?”
Zed chuckled. “No, you misunderstood. I don’t know why you are still objecting at all. I won. This town is mine. There’s nothing to fight.”
“We disagree,” Jake said, finding his voice. It sounded weak.
Zed swiveled his head toward Jake. “Okay. That’s your prerogative, as the song says. You keep on disagreeing.” He pulled out a pocket watch and looked at it. “Do you have any idea how closely the Tools are tied together? I knew a Tool was being used in town. My watch knew. At first I thought maybe it was the mirror, but then I realized it was the cane. After that, it was pretty easy to fool the thing, to lead whoever was using it out here. And then last night you two showed up. So, tell me, where is it? Where’s the cane?”
“We’re done talking,” Todd said.
“Maybe it’s time for us to go,” Jake said.
Zed turned toward Jake. “Maybe I’ll feed that little boy of yours to the Unfeathered. Maybe I’ll take your wife home with me some night. I could do either of those things and no one would stop me. I might do it just for laughs.”
Jake didn’t think, he acted. He reached into his coat and pulled out his pistol. He pointed it at Zed and took three steps forward.
“No one else dies,” Jake said. Then he fired.
It was a clean shot. It hit exactly where Jake had meant it to: Zed’s forehead. A dark hole appeared above Zed’s left eye. Zed fell backward onto the ground and put a hand to his forehead. Slowly, he got up and took a step forward, staggering like a drunk. He rubbed at the spot on his forehead vigorously with the palm of his hand. He took the hand away and the bullet hole was gone.
The smile never left his face.
“Whoa,” Zed said. “I was not expecting that. Maybe I underestimated you. Maybe we got the wrong Hinkle locked up over at NTCC.”
Jake raised his pistol again, careful to not let the barrel shake.
Zed shook his head. “Come on, really?” His hand snaked out quicker than Jake would have thought possible, and he grabbed the pistol, ripping it from Jake’s hand.
Todd’s hand went into his jacket. Zed pointed the weapon at him. “Empty hands, friend. Hold them up so I can see them.”
Todd raised his hands. It looked ridiculous to Jake, like a movie. He had never seen anyone put their hands up in real life.
“I’ll be honest,” Zed said. “I don’t like either of you. You are dangerous. Let me show you what I mean.”
Zed fired. Todd was dead before he hit the ground. Jake screamed, ran to his friend and fell to his knees next to the body. He turned back to Zed, but before he could speak a squad car pulled off the side of the road.
Jake didn’t know if these officers would be his saviors or his executioners. The way Sean talked about the police force, it could go either way.
Zed was waving his arms, signaling for the officers to hurry over. They stepped out of their squad car.
“Guys!” yelled Zed. “We need your help! We’ve got a man hurt over here!”
The police officers hustled forward. Jake recognized Gary Stampard. Gary had been a jock back in high school, but his point guard days were about seventy pounds behind him. His stomach strained the limits of his uniform. His partner was an older guy with a stereotypical cop mustache. Don Franklin. Don had busted Jake a few times back in Jake’s hell-raising days. The fact that he knew both of them was both a comfort and a concern. Would they be more or less likely to help him?
“Zed. Jake. What’s going on out here?” Officer Franklin asked.
Zed fired two shots into Franklin’s face, and then turned and shot Stampard. Zed's accuracy was lethal. Both men fell down dead.
Zed swung the gun around and pointed it at Jake.
Jake froze in his crouched position next to Todd’s body. He didn’t think he could have moved if he’d wanted to. His legs were shaking and his breath felt strange. The world looked a little fuzzy around the edges.
Jake thought, This is what it feels like to know you are about to die.
“Don’t make me shoot you,” Zed said.
“Todd didn’t make you shoot him. Neither did Gary and Don.”
“That’s true. You made me shoot them. You pulled your gun and fired it. Without your predilection for violence, this whole thing would have been a lot less bloody.”
Zed licked his lips. From Jake’s vantage point near the ground, Zed looked impossibly tall.
“Why’d you come here tonight?” Jake asked. “What do you want?”
“The way I see it, I came out here to think, as I often do, and I stumbled upon you and Todd breaking some Regulations. I haven’t decided which ones yet, but it hardly matters, does it?”
Jake said nothing, so Zed continued.
“I ran to the nearest house and called the police, reporting some suspicious activity at the river, but I knew the police might be too late. I had to investigate. So I came back out here and hid in the bushes, watching you and Todd. Imagine my surprise when you two started arguing. It sounded like Todd was trying to talk you out of leaving town, and you were saying it was the only way, that you didn’t care who got hurt as a result of your actions. One thing led to another, and you pulled out a weapon and ended the argument. I was shocked and too afraid to come out of my hiding spot. I didn’t even come out when Officers Stampard and Franklin showed up and you ambushed them. Then I found my courage, came out, and wrestled the weapon away from you. It was terrifying. A real nightmare.” Zed shook his head sadly.
“You’re crazy if you think anyone’s going to believe that.”
“Maybe,” Zed said. “Still, I like my odds. I’m the hero of Rook Mountain. You’re a redneck who tried to jump his station by marrying a pretty doctor. People around here know what you really are. How many times were you arrested as a teenager? Plus, the murder weapon is a pistol registered to you.”
Jake eased his hand under his dead friend’s jacket.
Zed crouched down next to Jake. “Is Dr. Christine involved in your little conspiracy? If she is, I’ll find out. How about your friend the teacher? I’ll be watching him, too. They take one step outside the Regulations, and they are mine. I know you have the cane. Where is it? ”
Zed raised the gun and placed the barrel against Jake’s forehead. The metal was hot on Jake’s skin.
Jake thought of Trevor and wondered what kind of man the boy would turn out to be. He mouthed a silent prayer. His hand tightened around the gun in Todd’s shoulder holster.
“Look at me Jake.”
Jake did. The creepiest thing about Zed was his genuine smile. He always seemed delighted.
“Hmm, your mind is cloudy. I can’t make out much of what I need in there. Too bad. I do see some cabins that seem important. I’ll have to check those out.” Zed sighed. “Be smart here. You are going to die either way—”
Jake ripped the gun out of Todd’s holster and shoved it into Zed’s mouth before the man finished his sentence. Jake pulled the trigger, and chunks of skull and brain matter exploded from the back of Zed’s head. Jake fired again. And a
gain. He kept firing until the gun was empty. Then he put his foot against Zed’s chest and pushed him off the gun.
Zed fell backwards with a moan. He lay on the ground twitching.
Jake had no illusions that Zed was dead. But the man hadn’t gotten up yet, either. Jake might still have time to do one last thing for Rook Mountain. He jumped into his car and drove toward the center of town.
CHAPTER EIGHT: AWAY
1.
The world flickered, and then everything was different.
The first and most visceral difference was the temperature. It was as if the heat had been sucked off Frank's skin and a cold emptiness was left in its place. It was maybe not cold, but it was crisp, the type of weather where one would have liked to wear a sweater.
The light was different too. The world was illuminated by an ultra-diffused, grayish light. Frank looked up and, while there didn’t seem to be any clouds above, he couldn’t see the sun. It was as if the entire sky was glowing—there was no visible light source.
Frank’s eyes darted around him, trying to take in everything at once. It was sensory overload, and he felt his breath coming faster as he tried to understand what was happening to him.
The people of Rook Mountain were frozen where they had been moments ago. There was Trevor, with his hand stretched out. There was Will, an angry snarl on his face as a police officer pinned him to the stage. Zed stood directly in front of him, that creepy smile taking up most of the real estate on his face, his finger poised millimeters from Frank’s chest. The police officer to Zed’s left had his mouth open in a shout, and speckles of saliva were frozen in the air in front of him.
It was as if the world had been paused. All of it except Frank. He suddenly understood how the other prisoners had served their sentences in only moments.
But the frozen people weren’t the only change.
Dozens of the Unfeathered covered the area, and they were definitely not frozen. There were three of them on stage and many more scattered throughout the crowd. They strutted casually, occasionally pecking at one of the frozen people as if eating invisible bugs off their skin. These Unfeathered looked different than the ones Frank fought last week. The shorter beaks and more defined facial features gave these Unfeathered a look that was part bat and part emu. There seemed to be more variety among them, too. The one closest to Frank had long, finger-like protrusions at the end of its wings.
