Stillness

by Eldon Farrell

  “Little early for that, isn’t it?”

  “Actually,” Jacob looks up at George Marlin replying “It’s rather late for me.”

  “Do you know what you’ve done Jake?”

  Jacob stares at George from underneath drooping eyelids waiting for him to elaborate.

  “Whatever happened to this being a newspaper and not a tabloid? Wasn’t it just a week ago that you spiked my story about Zack Palmer because you claimed I lacked details?

  “Where are the details on this story?” George points at the headline of the morning paper on Jacob’s desk. “You told me that you didn’t want to incite an irrational panic. What the hell do you think this story is going to do Jake?”

  Raising the mug of alcohol laced coffee to his lips Jacob says, “Don’t you worry about that George. I’ve got the facts to back it up.”

  “Where?” George presses him, “Where are the facts? You didn’t have anyone else work on this story before you ran it. You wrote it, you proofread it, hell when I went home last night this story wasn’t even part of the copy.

  “What did you…did you get another one of your mysterious phone calls last night?”

  Jacob’s eyes snap open. The malice in them causes George to subtlety take one step backwards. “I don’t have to answer to you George. Besides,” his eyes slide shut again “What’s done is done.”

  “What is wrong with you Jake?” George shakes his head, “It’s like you don’t even care anymore. The power of the press is a great responsibility. You told me that when you hired me and I believed you until now.”

  Pointing again at the screaming headline of the morning paper, “What you’ve done this time is deplorable.”

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  In Atlanta, Roger and Wendy stare at the computer screen showing the empty conference room in Stillness. Lynne Bosworth is the lone occupant of the room.

  “Is that what this meeting is about?” Roger asks.

  “This,” Lynne holds the morning edition of the Stillness Sound up to the camera saying, “Is what this meeting is about.”

  Lynne can hear Wendy gasp over the connection as she and Roger read the blaring headline:

  FLU VACCINES TAINTED?

  “Is this a joke?” Roger asks.

  “I wish it were,” Lynne begins “The associated press are picking the story up. It will be in every major paper by the end of the day. Where are we with the investigation Wendy?”

  “We’re still testing samples of the vaccines for contaminates. We haven’t found any yet Lynne. Every sample we’ve tested so far has been clean. Who leaked the story?”

  “I don’t know,” Lynne answers “That’s why I called this closed door meeting. Someone who was in that meeting talked.”

  “Rahlings!” Wendy accuses.

  Seeing the skeptical look on Lynne’s face, Wendy elaborates, “As soon as he heard the results he was trying to link them to Markov and bioterrorism. Leaking the story is just another way for him to swing support to his theory.”

  “Maybe,” Lynne allows, “But if he was going to leak the story why wouldn’t he go right to the Washington Post?”

  “That’s a good point,” Roger says, “What are you thinking Lynne?”

  “The only thing that makes sense to me is that the leak has to be someone who knows the reporter for The Sound. That of course, rules out Rahlings.”

  “Allow me to say that I think that’s a mistake.”

  “Your feelings for Rahlings aside Wendy; I think the most likely suspects are the only people who were physically here for the meeting.

  “That rules out the General and you two as well and leaves me with a suspect list of three, myself included. I know I didn’t leak the story, so that leaves me with either Danny Gordon or Henry Abbot as the leak.”

  “So,” Roger leans towards the camera asking, “Who do you trust?”

  Lynne shakes her head and runs her fingers through her hair. It’s an exasperated gesture conveying her discomfort at the situation.

  “I trust them both. I like Henry. I know that he wants the facts about what is going on here, not speculation. He said as much in the meeting, remember? I can’t see him doing this.

  “And I gathered samples with Danny at Crater Lake. I trusted him then to do the job right; if I can’t trust him now then I can’t trust the samples he gathered.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  Looking Wendy right in the eyes, Lynne remembers the conversation that she had with Danny. In her memory she can hear him pushing her to label the outbreak bioterrorism.

  “He did mention that to him, the evidence was pointing towards bioterrorism.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions here,” Roger—the voice of reason—cautions, “Does linking the outbreak to the flu vaccine help the theory of bioterrorism? And if it does, why would the County Health Department Director want that published?”

  “He wouldn’t,” Wendy answers, “But Rahlings would definitely stand to gain a fatter budget from this being ruled bioterrorism. Let’s not forget that political battles are won in the court of public opinion.”

  Roger and Lynne consider Wendy’s words and know the truth of them.

  “Still,” Lynne begins, “I don’t see how Chris Rahlings could possibly know anyone in this town.”

  “They’re as close as a phone call away.” The implication of those words is chilling to Lynne.

  “So who can we trust?” Lynne asks of no one in particular. “If we’re going to solve this outbreak, we have to trust the team of people around us. How can we do that now?”

  “Carefully,” Roger opines, “You’re probably right about the local connection Lynne. Share information with Danny and Henry sparingly until you can sort out who the leak is.”

  “What if we set them up?” Wendy asks with an excited twinge to her voice.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well,” she turns to Roger saying, “False information. Isn’t that how the spooks do it? Lynne tells each of them different information and we see what lands in print. And while you’re at it, you might include Rahlings in the sting.”

  Shaking her head Lynne dismisses the idea. “I can’t do that Wendy. If I start giving out false information it could lead to confusion that could cause people to die. I won’t jeopardize people’s lives just to find out who’s talking.”

  “What’s the mood of the locals?” Roger asks, “How are they taking the story?”

  Lynne shakes her head saying, “Not well. I’m really worried that a panic mindset could set in and if it does…

  “I’m scared for this town Roger. The air is charged like it is right before a storm. These people were already in the grips of fear and this might just give them a target for that fear and rage.”

  “You be careful Lynne,” the caring in Roger’s voice is evident. “People under stress are like a rubber band stretched taut—they will only pull so far before breaking.”

  The rumor mill is spreading at full tilt.

  Did you hear? Do you know? The vaccines were bad. They’ve made us sick. They’ve killed us all. We trusted them with our health and our children’s health. How could this happen?

  Someone has got to pay for this!

  And so it goes on and on, from ear to ear, spreading like wildfire through town igniting passions in all it touches.

  Where once there was confusion, there is now fear. Where there was fear, there is now anger. Where there was anger, it has blossomed into rage. A rage that will blind all those it infects. It will turn good people to bad. It will pit neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend, family against family.

  It will forever scar this small town. For in the grip of panic the actions of good people will be swept away on a tide of unrestraint fury. And always shall evil prevail whenever good people fail to act.

  At 6:45 pm, after a day fraught with tension, the last vestiges of innocence are lost, and the riot begins.

  It happen
s so fast.

  One moment Jaime Lincoln is dusting the shelves in the store and the next instant the brick is through the window.

  Shards of glass shower the front of the store while the projectile brick crashes through a display case holding cheap charms. As the glass settles Jaime can hear Adrienne screaming from behind the counter. It takes her a moment to realize she’s yelling at her to get down.

  Dropping to the floor she lies on her stomach trying to calm herself and stop shaking. Looking back she sees Dominique staring at her with wide fearful eyes. Her heart beats hard in her chest resonating in her ears as a loud rhythmic thumping.

  “Jaime! Get away from the window!”

  Jaime stares back up at the jagged hole where the window used to be and slowly crawls away from it. Outside she can hear raised voices over the sound of destruction. Needing to know what’s going on she cautiously rises to her knees.

  Protests from Adrienne sound in her ears but still she has to know. She catches a glimpse of the street just in time to see a man smash an aluminum bat into the windshield of a parked car. The sound causes her to flinch.

  With another swing the windshield cracks into a spider web design. A final swing punches right through the reinforced glass bringing a raucous cheer from the throng gathered around. Another man comes running up with a bottle in his hand.

  Jaime strains to see what he’s doing but the car partially blocks her view of him. He turns and runs away from the car along with the others who had gathered around. When Jaime sees the black smoke billowing out of the front seat she realizes why.

  She’s quickly to her feet and running to the back of the store telling Dominique and Adrienne to do the same. Out front the flames burn their way to the gas tank.

  The explosion sounds like a bomb going off. The store shakes from the blast, sending inventory crashing from shelves to the floor. Display cases topple over all around the three huddling bodies.

  When it seems like enough time has passed they disengage from one another and slowly rise up out of their hiding place. The smell of smoke is immediate.

  Adrienne gasps as she sees what’s left of her business. The blast blew out the front of her store, which is now burning slowly out of control. All around her the product of her life’s work is ruined. In the thickening smoke it looks like a warzone.

  “We have to go Adrienne.” Jaime pulls on her sleeve.

  Shaking off the shock Adrienne turns to them saying, “You two go out the back door and keep a low profile on your way home.”

  “We can’t leave you here!” Jaime cries, “You’re coming with us.”

  “No,” Adrienne says forcefully “This is my store and I’m staying here until help arrives.”

  “God Adrienne,” Jaime shakes her roughly “Help is not coming. Think about what’s going on out there.”

  “What is going on out there?” Dominique asks anxiously.

  “Hey!” The voice comes from out on the street. “There are people in there!”

  They look through the smoke and flames and see the unmistakable silhouette of two men standing, looking in at them. The shadow cast by the fire keeps them from recognizing either of them.

  Something about the way they look through the flames tells Jaime that they are not going to help them.

  “It’s time to go Adrienne!”

  The three of them run for the back door as behind them they hear cracking wood and maniacal shouting as the men leap through the flames to give chase.

  Jaime throws her shoulder into the door and flings it wide open. Dominique follows right on her heels with Adrienne bringing up the rear. As soon as Adrienne bursts into the alley she swings the door shut again and looks for something to block it with.

  “Come on!” Jaime cries to her.

  “You two go! I’m right behind you!” Spotting the garbage dumpster a few feet away Adrienne moves. Getting behind it she pushes it as hard as she can to roll it in front of the back door. Slowly it inches forward and seals the door shut for the moment. Turning her attention elsewhere she’s grabbed from behind by the hair.

  Instinctively she twirls around and brings her knee up into her attacker’s crotch. He tumbles over instantly writhing in pain. Looking down at him she recognizes the face. “Edgar?”

  He snarls in response and weakly lashes out at her spitting profanities. “Adrienne!”

  She turns from him to locate Jaime and Dominique at the mouth of the alleyway. Breaking into a jog she heads for them. Looking past them she sees a man come into view holding a burning bottle.

  Waving her arms above her head she shouts warning to them. Jaime spins around to see the bottle hurling through the air. Instantly pushing Dominique to the side she dives out of harm’s way just as the bottle smashes between them.

  Flames explode out of the broken Molotov cocktail and quickly spread out separating Jaime from both Dominique and Adrienne—who has to turn back and head the other way now that the entrance to the alley is blocked.

  Through the growing smoke Jaime tries to see Dominique on the other side of the fire. In the shimmering air she thinks that she sees her scampering away from the scene. Wanting to do the same Jaime gets to her feet and runs from the chaos around her.

  Patrolman Adam Henson is turning his knuckles white from gripping his steering wheel so tightly. Adrenaline is coursing through his veins now as he speeds past the conservation area with his lights flashing.

  Sheriff Anjou is barking orders over his radio for all men to converge on the downtown. Despite the shortness of his tone Adam knows that the Sheriff is calm about the situation. He knows the people of the town well and because of that will believe that they can stop the disturbance.

  Adam is not so sure.

  Things weren’t supposed to be this way. When he graduated the Police Academy he brought his bride Brianne and their young daughter to Stillness so he could be a cop in a nice quiet town away from the big city problems.

  Yah Henson, that’s worked out real well. All that’s going on in this quiet ’burb is a killer illness and now a riot. No big city problems here.

  For a moment his thoughts become occupied with Brianne and his little girl. They’ll be okay, he tells himself, they will.

  His radio squawks to life with the agitated voice of Walt Anjou. “Henson, head off down Passmore and secure the downtown area. Gord, make a quick pass of Cobblestone Place to check on the Mayor then back up Henson in the downtown core. I’m heading across the tracks to restore order there and then I’ll rendezvous with you downtown!”

  Focusing his eyes to the fore Adam watches as the town comes into view. He gasps at the sight as Stillness burns bright ahead of the coming darkness.

  Chapter 27

  The sun gone from view now, Jaime Lincoln moves cautiously through the darkening night. In the distance she can hear glass smashing and faint voices hollering.

  Pressing her back against a brick wall she decides to take five minutes to rest. She dares not close her eyes though.

  Looking around she feels a chill. The damage in this part is extensive. From where she stands she can see two cars burning, several broken windows, overturned tables across the way in the park, and even a toppled lamppost. The looters have definitely been this way.

  She’s not really sure where she is, just downtown somewhere. After the alley everything is a blur. God, the alley—I hope Dominique and Adrienne are okay. I never should’ve let us get separated. I should go back and see if I can find them.

  Spotting a street sign a few feet away on the corner she discovers that she’s on Balaclava Street. How did I get here?

  Jumping at the sound of another crash a few blocks away she decides against going back to the store. She knows that at the other end of Balaclava is Centennial Public School. And maybe, she hopes a safe place to hide out until the streets calm down. Moving again she walks quickly down the block.

  It’s heading away from her home but she seriously doubts that she’d be able to make it h
ome without running into more hooligans. I just hope the school is safe.

  Halfway there she stops when she hears a can rolling across the pavement. It’s close and it sounds like someone kicked it. Quickly looking in all directions she can’t see anyone around. Turning back towards the school she’s grabbed roughly and shoved into the wall.

  “Well, well what have we here? If it ain’t the mayor’s daughter.”

  Not wasting anytime she lashes out with a right and then a left both of which are easily blocked by her attacker who proceeds to slap her hard across the face. Rattled by the blow she falls to her knees sobbing.

  “Please…why are you doing this?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re all dead anyway. But now that I have you, I can at least die with a smile.”

  Jaime looks up at the man looming large above her understanding perfectly his intentions. Tears stream down her face falling onto her lap. He grabs her by the hair and yanks her hard to her feet.

  Desperate she brings her knee up but he deftly moves out of the way. Fighting for her life she tries to claw at his eyes but he quickly drives her head back into the wall and knocks the fight out of her.

  The light dims behind her eyes but before it goes out completely she hears screeching tires draw near and footsteps racing towards her. Her attacker is pushed away from her and in the ensuing fight is scared off.

  “Jaime!” Her rescuer leans over her prone form. “Jaime can you hear me? Are you all right?” Slowly she blacks out to the sound of her name being called.

  A few blocks over a crowd are gathering in force. They move with the swiftness of locusts leaving destruction in their wake.

  Feeling the weight of the wooden bat in his hands, the self-appointed leader of the mob, Justin Badger eyes the glass door of Mary’s Café.

  With one swing he smashes through it sending shards of glass exploding everywhere. Stepping through the broken door—his boots crunching glass—he’s quickly followed by the mob. With the expertise of jackals tearing at a fallen carcass, they begin to trash the place.