Jeremy grinned in the backseat. He had accomplished what he needed to. Fifteen dead was plenty to get national attention.
*****
Jeremy’s arrival at the police station was greeted with more camera crews and chaos. The officer pulled up to the back of the building, but the reporters ran around back, in an attempt to get footage. The officer pulled Jeremy out of the car and was able to get him inside before the cameras could catch a glimpse. He guided Jeremy straight to a holding cell. Damn. Wish the world could have seen me before they took my clothes and threw me in a jumpsuit.
“We need to get blood work right away from him. Let’s see what kind of drugs he’s on,” another officer said.
The holding cell was roughly the size of the living room in his now-abandoned apartment. The walls were solid white with no windows, and the door of bars had clanked shut.
The next hour brought many visitors in and out of the cell. Some doctors, both medical and psychiatrists, came in. The medical ones poked him with needles, took his blood, and checked his body for injuries. Psychiatrists asked him if he knew his name and his current location. He responded with a blank stare and silence.
At one point a forensics specialist came, removed the bags from his hands, and swabbed them.
Finally an officer came in and uncuffed his hands. “Heston. You’re gonna be here over the weekend. Your first court date is Monday. You will sleep, eat, and shit in this room until then.” The pudgy man had a bald head and a slight northeastern accent, but Jeremy couldn’t pinpoint from where exactly. He walked out of the cell without another word. I never told anyone my name, but they know. The plan is ready.
Jeremy would sit alone in that cell for the next forty-eight hours and change. Officers came in and out of the station, poking their heads into his cell to get a look at him. Most had likely come straight from the office; blood soaked their clothes and skin.
A stocky Latino officer limped over, and Jeremy noticed a terrifying scar that ran across his cheek. “I hope you burn in hell for this,” he said in a raspy voice. Before the officer turned, Jeremy caught his last name, Lopez, from the badge on his chest.
He lay down on his cot, staring at the ceiling, hearing the roar of the press outside each time the doors opened. A TV blared in the background, and the reporters spoke in serious tones about the dozens of people killed and injured. Flustered survivors gave interviews about the banging sounds they had heard underneath them and the chaos of being trapped in the building.
Must be salespeople. Don’t recognize any voices.
Jeremy wasn’t tired, but he closed his eyes. The day was still young, word was still making its way across the country, but everything was officially in motion.
You did it. A grueling legal process now awaited him. Monday would be day one, and he needed to appear every bit as insane as he could sell. The initial hearings would be described by broadcasters, but he fully expected his actual trial to be televised.
Part one is done. The experiment begins.
Jeremy kept a certain thought in his mind as he started to doze, reassuring himself that this experiment would be a long and drawn-out process.
Good things come to those who wait.
Acknowledgements
I owe a huge thank you to my editor, Teja Watson. This story was complex to tell and she helped me get it where it needed to be as an easy read. Her contributions to this book are truly invaluable. I'd also like to thank my aunts, Chris, Tanya, and Maria for being early readers and providing feedback to ensure the book was as strong as it could be. Last but not least, my incredibly supportive wife, Natasha. She always makes sure I'm moving forward and has been the biggest help on the business side of my writing habit. Thank you to everyone that made this possible, I can't wait to get the final two books out!
As I mentioned in the dedication, I was fortunate to survive the Aurora theater shooting that took place in July 2012. That day was a big wake up call for me to start chasing my dreams, and every time I write I have those who weren't able to make it home, in my heart. A dozen lives were taken, all with long futures ahead. Don't be afraid to chase what you really want in life, because tomorrow really is not a guarantee.
Andre Gonzalez
September 20, 2017
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Insanity (Insanity Series, Book 1) Page 20
