Chapter 28 part 1

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Chapter 28

The porch of the second house was essentially a pile of dried timber.  The small fire bomb that the man dropped as he ran off was more than enough to turn the front of the house into a bonfire.

William stopped and stared after the running skinhead.  The voices had told him about Bryan's realization and he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself.  They were trying to clear the city.  What was the term?  A sunset town...where someone who wasn't white wouldn't want to be caught after sundown.  Or did Jared Smith want something more severe than that?

He frowned, thought for a moment about going after the skinhead, seeing if he led to Smith.  He realized that for the first time since he had escaped from the hospital that he wanted to fight someone.  Was it just the injustice of what these people were trying to do, or were William's circumstances and condition dragging him down, making it harder to stay calm?

It didn't matter.  His fists clenched and he stepped around the fire to follow the man.

The voices formed in front of him, side by side.

There are two people on the second floor, The Advisor said.

The Caretaker pointed at the back of the house.  Their back door is broken.  They will be trapped inside.

Use the window.  The Hunter prowled around to the side as he spoke.

The irony struck William as he stood there.  For once he wanted to fight and now the voices wouldn't let him.  Ahead, the skinhead had disappeared.  William turned and looked at the burning house.  The Hunter had stopped at a window near the back.

Through here.  The Hunter leapt up through the glass.  William hurried over and looked in.  The base of the window was low, only four feet off the ground.  He peered in, saw the outlines of walls and furniture in the fog and spreading smoke.

The grass at his feet was neatly trimmed and free of anything that could be used to break the tall window glass.  He hurried to the back yard and found a heavy rake near the broken back door.  He returned, stepped to the side of the window and swung the rake.

As he had suspected, broken glass showered down onto the spot he would have been standing on if he'd broken the window by hand.  The voices may be good at protecting him from attacks, but he didn't want to test them against hundreds of glass shards coming down on his head.

There was a rough line of glass stalagmites in the bottom of the window frame.  William ran the rake over them, threw it to the side and began to hoist himself into the house.

And looked right into the barrel of a shotgun.

William looked up the weapon to see an old man standing there in plaid pajamas.  He was easily seventy, his tightly curled hair light gray and receding up from his furrowed forehead and squinted eyes.

"And why would you be breaking into my house?" the old man said.

The Hunter walked around the old man.  The gun is loaded. 

His wife is just up the stairs, The Advisor said.

Be polite, The Caretaker said.  He likes that.

William looked at the voices, held back a retort.  A warning from them might have been helpful before he was looking at the shotgun.  He tried not to move at all, though the ache in his muscles was starting to push past the fog into his awareness.

"Sir, someone set your front door on fire.  Your back door is broken and I'm here to help you and your wife out safely," he said.

The gun didn't move.  William was impressed at how steady the old man held it.  "How do I know you didn't start that fire?  That you're not here to finish the job?"

It was a horrible question to ask, especially when your house is burning down around you.  What answer would convince the man if guilt was already assumed?

Smoke pressed in thicker from the front of the house.  He had to try something.  "If I was going to kill you, wouldn't I just leave you in here, or hit you with that rake as you tried to climb out?"

The gun still didn't move, but the old man's head moved away from the stock to peer at William.  "You're him, aren't you?"

There was a cough from the top of the stairs.  Finally, the gun lowered and the old man walked to the end of the room, shouted up the steps.  "Jeanie!  It's him!  That Nightstalker fellow!  He’s rescuing us!"

William groaned and eased himself back down to the ground.  Everyone either assumed he was insane or some kind of superhero.  He hadn't thought that annoyance could top the physical pain and exhaustion he felt, but at that moment it was very close.

The sound of the old man talking to his wife came through the room and out the window.  William leaned his head back in.  "Sir, Ma'am.  Your house is burning down, can we hurry up please?"

He saw the old man usher Jeanie, his wife up toward the window.  She was nearly his age, just as spry and held a struggling cat tight to her chest.  "This is him?" she asked.

William heard plenty of skepticism in her voice.  The annoyance officially topped the pain and exhaustion.  "Please, ma'am.  Let me help you out."  He reached up for her and she leaned out toward him.

The voices took shape outside the house and The Advisor pointed behind William.  He is coming.  Two others are behind him.

William didn't need to turn when he heard Bryan's footsteps.  The old woman kept the cat clutched to her chest with one arm and rested the other on William's shoulder.  She jumped when Bryan steadied her hip.  "It's all right, ma'am.  He's a Police Detective."

"Tell him to watch his hands, thank you," she said.  But after her protest, she let them lift her out and set her gently on the grass.  She took a step away and turned to watch, stroking the cat the whole time.

"This your sidekick?"  The old man was leaning out the window.

At that comment, with the look on Bryan's face, William felt the annoyance drop away.  He liked this old man.  "Yes, sir.  He’s in training."  He felt Bryan's glare as they helped the old man down.

Bryan pointed the old couple to the backyard.  "Ma'am, sir, I'd suggest you go through the backyard and down the block a bit before you come back out to the street.  The fire department should be here any moment."  One look at the growing fire at the front of their house was enough to convince them.  The two marched off together without another word of protest.

William turned with Bryan to the first house on the block.  The flames from that fire were visible above the top of the old couple's house.

They are out already, The Caretaker said.

"What do they say?" Bryan asked.

"It's clear." William said.

The others are coming, The Advisor said.

They couldn't be seen in the darkness yet, but in the fog, William saw two figures hurrying toward them through the back yards, the thinner one in the lead by a dozen paces.

Time to leave, The Advisor said.

He turned back to Bryan.  "Why did you bring them?"

Run, The Hunter said, stepping between William and the approaching detectives.

"Why?" he asked again.

Bryan didn't answer.

"Mickelson?  That you?" one of the detectives asked.  William and Bryan both turned toward them.

"Yeah," Bryan said, his voice loud enough to be heard above the fires.

"Good, good," the first detective said.

"What the hell?" asked the second one.  William saw the man draw a weapon.  It was another boxy taser, much like the one Bryan had threatened him with.

William looked over at Bryan, who didn't meet his eyes.  He thought he knew the answer, but asked anyway.  "Why?"

"Don't move!" the second detective said.  "Why isn't he cuffed?  What are you doing, Mickelson?"

"Cray.  It's all right, I've got it," the first detective said.  The man took a step closer to William.  Held low in his hands was a shotgun.

*

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