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Broken Monarch

Page 6

by Tom Schneider


  She heard Glenn calling her name. She was older now and he was hanging upside down by his ankles. She walked to him and stuck him in the abdomen with a cattle prod. She squeezed her eyes closed tight and forced the image away.

  It was more recent days now and she was making love with him in his arms. He told her he had been dreaming of her for years and she confessed to loving him from the time she met him. And she confessed to erasing the memory of his fiancé when he came to the program. She told him her name but he didn’t want it. He only wanted her.

  She hoped they would kill her and not leave her as a vegetable, but either way, she knew she wouldn’t be back. Her time here was done. Relieved, she wouldn’t have to see Robert again. She pictured Glenn smiling at her and a tear dropped from the corner of her eye.

  In another room, a half-dozen or so young doctors in training watched on a television as the surgeon pulled back the skin of her forehead and another started an electric bone saw. They were narrating and capturing the procedure for training purposes.

  ***

  Darkness and silence enveloped Lindsey until a pinhole of light appeared in the distance. She wondered if she were dead or lying in a vegetative state somewhere. The pinhole was expanding. The light growing, slowly at first and then all at once. Surrounding her until a wall of monarch butterflies materialized in front of her before dissipating and spreading out around her in all directions. She could begin to hear a sound. Her name being called from the distance. Getting closer. It was Glenn’s voice calling her.

  He took her hand and led her across the room and down the hall. They opened the glass doors to the outside. Sunlight and warmth filled the air. It was a beautiful day. A clear blue sky. The smell of honeysuckle filled the air. Birds chirped melodically. She heard every song they sang. A butterfly flew to her, she held out her hand and it landed on her finger. The most beautiful she had ever seen.

  Pink Floyd’s, played from a young couple’s boombox on the picnic table across the yard.

  “You know that I care what happens to you, and I know that you care for me, and any fool knows a dog needs a home, a shelter from pigs on the wing.”

  25

  Silver Lake Inn

  ABC’s Action News filled the dining room. It was early morning, the tables were set from the night before, dressed in their white linens and silver. Another press event. They had the place lit brightly with the film crew catching it all. They sat at a table in front of the bandstand and piano, after having walked through the events of the assassination attempt. Jack was there dressed in a Polo shirt his mother made him wear, having vetoed his Southern Rock Fest concert T-shirt. It was going as planned until it became clear that someone did a little more research than expected. The interviewer asked about Lindsey.

  “And what did you know about the female cook that was working with you? She started even after this Daniel did.”

  “Lindsey? Oh um.”

  “We tried to find out more about her but it’s almost like she didn’t exist until a week before the assassination attempt. Did anything seem odd about her?”

  “Um, no not really.”

  Jack turned to Glenn excitedly, “You were shacking up with her, weren’t you?”

  Glenn swatted his leg with the back of his hand.

  “Do you find it mysterious that she died so close to the assassination attempt of the First Lady?”

  Jack’s eyes went wide, he looked to Glenn. Glenn froze. The wheels somehow ground to halt in his mind. He stared blankly ahead. His new handler asked for a time-out break and they escorted him from the room. His mind flashed through a hundred images per second. He saw Lindsey’s face as she spoke to him.

  “If you are told I am dead, kill Robert Black.”

  He saw the picture she showed him of Robert’s face. It came alive from the photograph in three-dimensions. Analyzed, internalized and memorized. Replacing was the map to Richard’s office. He navigated up and down the streets, zooming in and panning around the building.

  Glenn's handler asked, “Can we take a break?”

  He escorted him out the front door, down the steps to the parking lot. He shook Glenn by the arm. “Are you ok? I just found out today myself. I was going to tell you after the interview. Do I need to shock you?”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.” Glenn closed his eye for a few seconds.

  “So it’s true. She’s dead?”

  “I’m sorry, Glenn.”

  “They killed her.”

  “No – who? No man. It was a freak accident or something.”

  “Bullshit, he killed her.”

  Jack came out of the front doors and walked through the parking lot to Glenn’s van.

  “Glenn, you coming back in?”

  “Hey, bud. No, I have to go. You finish up the interview, ok? I think that newsgirl thinks you’re cute.”

  “Ha yeah right. She is pretty hot though.”

  “Are you coming back to work here soon?”

  “I don’t know Jack we’ll see. I have a couple things I need to do first.”

  “Ok, sorry to hear about Lindsey. I know you liked her.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Glenn gave him a hug and sent him back inside.

  26

  Old City, Philadelphia

  Flipping through the “S” pages of one phone book after another. He drops the last one down on the hotel room desk and picks up his sketch pad. He stares at the drawing of Lindsey's face. He closes his eyes and relives holding her in his arms. He slides his finger down the page along the line of her cheek. He kisses his fingers and places them on her lips. He turns more pages of the sketchbook and stops on a drawing of Robert Black. He had been drawing from memory the picture Lindsey showed him. Her voice in his head repeated the instruction she gave.

  “If you're told I am dead, kill Robert Black.”

  Bob Dylan’s Billy #4 plays on the boombox.

  Billy, they don't like you to be so free. Into her dark hallway she will lead ya. In some lonesome shadows she will greet ya. Billy, you're so far away from home. There's eyes behind the mirrors in empty places. Bullet holes and scars between the spaces. There's always one more notch and ten more paces. Billy, and you're walkin' all alone.

  He took a pencil and gripping it like a child he pressed the point down deep into the paper and drew a line diagonally across Robert’s face. The pencil snapped in two and he dropped them on the page.

  ***

  He walked down the Old City, Philadelphia street with a cup carrier holding four hot coffees and a baseball hat pulled down to his brow. He approached the rear door of the ABC Maintenance van, gave a quick look around and gave a knock. As the doors opened Glenn threw the coffees in the face of the first guy, pushed him backward and drew the gun from his waist. He shot the guy wearing the coffee in the head. The guy seated to his right took a swing at Glenn but he dodged it while pulling him in front of himself in time to take a bullet from the third man. Glenn fired, hitting him in the head. The wounded one hunched on the floor was pleading for mercy as Glenn grabbed him by the head and snapped his neck with a twist.

  He looked the recently departed over and picked one to undress. He put the man’s coveralls over his clothes, moved to the front of the van and started to drive. He drove across town to Robert’s office building and parked by a service entrance in the rear. He entered the building and went to the elevator. He exited on the 7th floor and went down the hall to the corner office suite, entered and heard the one-way conversation of someone speaking on the phone. He saw the phone wire winding its’ way into the bathroom. He pulled his gun and walked to the ajar door. The stink was assaulting and he wanted to kick the door and shoot him in the head so he could get out of there, but he paused to listen.

  “Louis we’ve been through this before. Everything’s working out… Nine or ten is the age to start, that’s where results are most reliable. We have room for at least another dozen. Yes, I’l
l see you at the ball. I gotta run.”

  The toilet flushed. Glenn backed up. Robert opened the door. His pants weren’t yet zipped and he was drying his hands with a towel when he emerged.

  He dropped the towel in shock, “Woah, what do we have here?”

  Glenn took off his hat and tossed it across the room. Robert finished buttoning his pants and tightening his belt.

  “I know you. You’re our hero. You saved the queen. – Over the rainbow!”

  Glenn cocked the pistol.

  “Damnit. Listen let’s talk this through. Happy Place! Down the rabbit hole!”

  Glenn gave half a laugh and raised his aim to Robert’s head.

  “Listen, man, what do you want? I can make it happen whatever it is. What do you want?”

  “I want Lindsey.”

  “Ah, shit man. It’s a shame what happened to her. I miss her too. She was special. I knew from when she was a little girl.”

  Glenn fired a shot in his groin. Robert screamed, fell to his knees and over sideways as he vomited. Glenn went to his desk and started looking at the papers on it and through the drawers. He saw a stun-gun and took it out of the drawer. He stared at it a second and returned to Robert, bending over to get closer. Robert was crying in pain. He looked up at Glenn and his crying turned to laughter.

  "I knew we should have implanted you. Daniel had a chip in his brain. He followed orders."

  "You're a sick fuck."

  "Don't worry, we won't even need the chips soon. We'll send the commands right to your head. You'll listen."

  "Why did have to kill her?"

  “She was sweet when she was young. Too bad you missed that. She didn’t care about you. She was using you, doing what she was programmed to do. She loved me since she was a little girl. You can ask her after they come in here and kill you.”

  Glenn jabbed it into his neck and watched him shake. He dropped it and continued at his desk until he found Louis in his Rolodex. He pulled the card loose, put it in his pocket and picked up his hat on the way to the door.

  He walked back out the service entrance and through the back parking lot. As he neared the street he took off the coveralls and dropped the hat. On the next block, he got in his 1978 Thunderbird rental and drove south on I-95.

  Check out Tom’s previous title.

 

  EscapeTheFutureBook.com

  BrokenMonarch.com

 

 

 


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