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              The floorboards creaked behind me. I turned around and saw the baseball bat only for a brief second. It hit and world grew dark.

Chapter 16: My Greatest Threat

              My head thundered and the side of my face blistered with rage as I awoke. Double vision multiplied the individuals in the room, but it settled quickly enough. I couldn’t move my hands. Ropes burned in my wrists as I struggled. My legs were pinned to the legs of the chair, just like Kyle and Susan.

              “’Bout time, chap,” someone hissed. A figure materialized sitting opposite me. He ran a hand through his slicked black hair while rocking back in his chair. No one else was here, though. A smile careened through his dark, oily beard, and a pair of venomous black eyes stared back at me.

              “I heard things, about you being in places you weren’t supposed to be, doing things you aren’t meant to do. I thought we had an understanding, Jackson. Hell, I thought you were dead.  Of course, that was my mistake,” he said and stood up, stretching his back, cracking it audibly. “Hate to say it. Hated myself for even believing that you were still here.”

              “What have you done, Frank?” I asked. I felt sick. So much pain filtered through my body, but it wasn’t just the physical. The death of my dear friends and the unanswered questions lingered in my mind. And poor Olivia.
Where was she?

              Frank’s smiled widened as he stroked his beard. He shrugged his shoulders and walked behind me, resting a filthy hand on the back of my neck. I tried to shake it off but he simply chuckled.

              “Me?” Frank stayed out of sight. “I didn’t do anything.” He whispered in my ear. He moved his hand to the other side of my head, keeping my neck from moving. “That would be a lie though, wouldn’t it?” He double-tapped my cheek, kneeling beside me as he brought out a knife. He twirled it in front of me. It was discolored, still bloody.

              “You sick bastard,” I said and shut my eyes, wishing away everything. He must have used it to carve up my friends. I just hoped it hadn’t come close to Olivia. I stared at the knife’s steel blade, its handle made of ivory.

Frank laughed.

              “Oh come along now,” Frank said.

              I didn’t understand his meaning. He must have seen my brow furrow.

              “You mean to tell me…” Frank said as he returned to his seat, playing with the blade in his hand. “This was art. I’m an artist. Their deaths weren’t simple kills,” Frank’s smiled vanished. “Of course, this probably wouldn’t have happened, you know, if you’d stayed away.” He remained seated as he brought a hand to his temples and started rubbing.

              I didn’t have a clue how he’d found us, found me. I didn’t think he would have tracked up here, not for this. How did he know about Susan and Kyle, where they lived?  And where was Olivia?

              “Why them?” I asked.

              “Why them? Why the fuck not them!” Frank shrieked. He reached over and wrapped a hand around my neck. I caught my reflection in his eyes. He brimmed with hatred, revulsion from those years ago, against me and my ideas, fueling his crushing grip. He stopped short before I lost consciousness. Smiling, he sat down again.

“You made the mistake. You did,” he pointed out. “You killed them the moment you stepped foot Downtown, champ. You couldn’t just let things be, couldn’t just stay away. I was good with you decaying up here. I knew you lived here. You thought different?” He laughed.

              I looked away, not allowing myself to cry. Frank was crazy, but smart. He knew exactly where to strike and when.

              “Oh no…” I mumbled. There to my left, he had laid out both bodies. Their arms were crossed on their chests, almost like a ceremony to the deceased.

              “No one is safe. Not when they know you,” Frank whispered.

              “Fuck you,” I muttered.

              “What was that?” Frank looked intrigued.

              “I said… fuck you,” I said louder.

No reason to hide my anger anymore. All this pain, all these questions, what was the point anymore? Everything was building up, and my end was ticking ever closer. My friends were dead, Olivia was missing, and I was gone myself in a short month. Soon enough the turning was going to take me. I had no respect for what this bastard said. He’d just stick that knife through my neck anyway, just like the others.

              “Ooh I like that. Yeah, I like that Jackson. I really do. Got some bite to ya, huh?” Frank chuckled. I didn’t expect that.

              “I hate you,” I whispered in rage. “I fucking hate you.”

              “Not more than I you,” Frank hissed back.

              “Just do it already,” I looked away. Wherever Olivia was, I hoped she wouldn’t have to see this.

              “Oh no, no, no, no. It’s not going to be that easy.” Frank shook his head.

              “What?”

              “You really thought…” Frank laughed loudly. “No. You get to live with this.” He swung his arm toward the bodies.

              “Boss!” a shout bellowed from downstairs. It wasn’t a voice I recognized, but apparently Frank’s goons had caught up to their leader. For whatever reason, this new voice sounded panicked.

              “Oh shit, the place is a mess. Boss! You okay!” another voice shouted.

              I didn’t understand what was happening. Did they not know about the bodies? Did Frank do all of this by himself?

Frank smiled as he got up again and drew a handgun from his belt. But he didn’t do what I expected him to do. Instead, he cut loose the rope that bound me down and tossed it beneath the bed. He threw the dagger onto my lap, and shot himself in the leg.

              “What the hell?” I whispered.

              “You will suffer,” Frank whispered. “Up here!” Frank gritted his teeth. He tossed the gun towards me feet. I could swear he was grinning through the pain.

              Without thinking, I grabbed the gun and the knife. I aimed the sidearm at the center of his chest and pulled the trigger. But when the hammer fell, nothing happened.

              Multiple bodies flashed into the room. Shouts erupted from everywhere as I continually pulled the trigger. Frank’s people came crashing into the room with guns drawn, but refused to fire.

              “Jackson, drop it!” the lead man shouted. I turned to the guy giving the order, or should I say, the kid.

              “Joey?” I asked.

              “That’s right! Drop it, now!” Joey ordered again. Several of his other “sheriffs” stood beside the kid.

              Joey kept shouting, but I couldn’t hear him through the buzzing. I managed to drop the knife and the gun, raising my hands above my head, not exactly aware of what was happening. It was like watching someone else’s life. The others in the room were looking around horrified, their faces full of disgust.

              “Oh my goodness…” one of them commented. One of Joey’s crew bolted for the door, spewing up the contents of his stomach before reaching the exit.

              I slowly turned back to face Frank, who had an honest look of horror and appeared deathly terrified. It had to be an act.

              “On. The. Ground,” Joey said, emphasizing each word. He pointed his gun from me to the ground and back again. One of the others were taking out something metallic with loops in it. I hadn’t seen the metal rings before, and didn’t know what they were for. I only followed instructions, too mystified and too lost to know what else to do.

              I fell to the ground and they leapt on my back instantly. They clasped my hands behind my back with the metal loops and let me lay there for a while. They tended to Frank like he was the victim. He put on a good show and I turned away, sickened by all of it.

              “Then he just… just… killed them,” Frank explained.

              The buzzing died away and I caught Frank in midsentence. He was retelling a fabled story, making up the entire thing. He was a damn fine actor, far more intelligent than most probably realized. I wanted to argue, to plead my case. But I couldn’t. The sickness that boiled in me kept me silent.

              The thought of Olivia popped up again. I looked around as if I could see her hiding underneath the bed or in the closet. If she wasn’t here that would be for the best. Maybe she went home, stayed there, and waited. It made me stay silent, fearful of Frank’s violence.

              “Easy Frank,” Joey said, holstering his sidearm.

              The two other “officers” dragged me to my feet.

              “Go get yourself patched up and try to take it easy. We’ll take care of this,” Joey said and looked me over.

              Frank watched me as well, still in character. His crew, the two others who weren’t officers, were holding him up. His leg was visibly bleeding. Everyone acted accordingly, very on edge and frightened from the grisly scene. I kept silent. There was nothing to be said. My friends’ lives and deaths were on my hands, and that damn timer downtown was most likely still counting down.

              “Sure, sure,” Frank gritted.

              “Ok, boss. Let’s get you Downtown,” one of Frank’s goons said. The two that wrapped Frank’s arms around their shoulders were certainly great actors. Maybe they didn’t even know about Frank’s plan. The crew left the room, with Frank smiling back at me.

              “Just keep him there,” Joey ordered. He bent down in front of me and picked up the gun that Frank used on himself. He examined it, pressing the clip release.

Of course, there were no bullets in the clip, but that was Frank’s plan all along. Give himself a single bullet for his plan, and give the sidearm to me, knowing I would pull the trigger, caught in the crime I didn’t commit. It was genius.

              “Can’t we just kill him?” one of the sheriffs asked. He drew his piece and looked back at Joey. I was dead inside, and remained emotionless. I waited to feel the metal touch my temple and thought I could hear Olivia’s voice. But it was coming from everywhere, in front of me, behind, over to the left, and from outside. She was playing, crying, saying she was hungry and cold. Closing my eyes only made her voice grow louder.

              “No,” Joey’s words echoed. “We don’t do that, you know that. We’re not like
them.
” He nodded his head toward me.

              The other officer holstered his sidearm, but sneered.

              “Zackery, check his pockets. Let’s make sure of few things,” Joey demanded. The one that just holstered his metal turned and started rifling through my pockets. The others watching on in silence, holding me tighter, as if I would do something.

              “What is this?” Zackery announced. He withdrew the orb from my sweatshirt and looked at it strangely.

“What the heck is this?” he repeated as he held out the orb for everyone to see.

              Joey grabbed the sphere and placed it in his jacket pocket. “Continue,” he instructed.

              Zackery followed suit, and started checking my pants, other pockets, and the back pockets. He pulled out something from the back left pocket and gasped. I never carried anything back there, but he showed it to Joey.

              Joey’s emotional level remained constant as he looked over the plastic bag. Inside was what looked like blonde locks of hair held on by a bloody scalp. That color, it was so familiar. It was Olivia’s.

Chapter 17: The Law

              It’d been forever since then, since Frank’s elaborate gambit. He got his wish. He had me dwindling in a jail cell, reliving those terrible memories from weeks ago. This was worse than death. This was rotting from the inside out. I took all the blame, no evidence to point in another direction.

              The cell was a small, concrete slab with only a bed leaning against the wall. A single, barred window faced directly Downtown. The timer stood directly in my line of sight from the window, and I didn’t forget the irony of the situation. I was trapped on the inside, looking out, and seeing my end come ever closer. The timer showed only two days, five hours, thirty seven minutes, and twenty-three seconds left. Only a few days left, but it really didn’t matter anymore. Everything had changed.

              I looked away from the timer and back toward Downtown. It was maybe only a half mile away, and the day was bustling with activity. People were all about, continuing to act out their mundane lives. Some were drunk, while most others were living out what life was left. Thunder cracked from the center, and even though it was a perfectly cloudless day, it was the constant reminder that evil awaited

              “Wouldn’t think about it. Gonna be somess time till you gets out,” someone spoke from beyond the bars to my cage. This was Bobby, an officer with the strange slur. He glared at me, snarling his jagged teeth, his beady eyes set back in their deep sockets.

              He spit on the ground, and a long line of drool refused to separate from his lips. He whipped it away with the back of his sleeve. “Why don’t you just sits on down. Forget about that lifes you thoughts you had. Just sits down and die,” he said, adding an extra “s” to nearly every word.

              I rotated on my heels and leaned back against the barred window. I just didn’t care anymore, and my stubbornness was getting worse with every passing day. I spat on the floor myself and gave him the middle finger refusing to follow his meaningless orders.

              “Your ass bettersss find a seat you sum-a-bitch,” he slurred.

              I stared out the window. “Fuck off, Bobby, you dumb
sum-a-bitch,”
I mocked.

              “I swears…” He wrestled with a pair of keys that hung from his belt loops. There were quite a few, and every key he tried refused to unlock my cell. “I’m going to beats your stupid ass, boy.” Bobby turned red in the face.

              “What are you doing?” Joey demanded.

              “He deservesss a beatss down boss.” Bobby stumbled through a few lines, babbling and correcting himself. When no good answer was apparently, Bobby turned and left. The lead officer waited for Bobby to vanish beyond his line of sight.

              For Joey being a full head shorter, and much younger than most of his officers, he carried himself well and demanded the respect of his counterparts. The self-appointed leader of these sheriffs had a much more level head.

He wore what the police officers would have worn if this city was once again whole. A wide-brimmed hat that didn’t fit quite right covered his head with a bright, polished badge set in the dead middle. The uniform he wore wasn’t made for him, obviously, but he’d decided to wear it anyway. He had rolled up his sleeves, and cut off the pants so they didn’t drag when he walked. Still, it was comical, but no one ever made fun of it.

              “Sheriff,” I said.

              “You know, as many times as you say that, doesn’t mean I understand it,” Joey frowned, quickly changing to a stern look of disapproval. In fact, no one apparently recalled the term “sheriff” or “police” or whatever, even though it was knitted into their uniforms. “You need to stop.”

              “Then just do what needs to be done,” I said back.

              “No.”

Joey’s self-righteous attitude refused to bury a bullet between my eyes. Whatever was stopping him also halted the attempts of the other officers, though I had no idea why.

              I lay down on the bed, eyeing the cracks in the ceiling. There was a solid fifty-five cracks in the concrete above, and I counted them regularly. One rather large one split the wall near the barred windows, and on occasion I’d chip away at it with my bare fingers. This only earned me bloody fingertips. The cell was escape-proof, refusing to let me leave and end this pitiful life.

              “Well, why not? I murdered them, right?” I asked.

              “Did you?” Joey asked.

              “Didn’t I?”

              “I’m not going to play these games Jackson.” Joey never directly labeled me with whatever they’d discovered on that day.

I didn’t get it. I was either innocent or guilty. Yet he kept asking me, like I would eventually declare my intent that day, like he could wait out my silence.

              “Sure you are. It’s all you got,” I laughed.

              Joey leaned through the bars and clasped his hands tougher. He seemed to be in thought, holding a deeper secrecy that the others lacked. From what I’d learned of him over the past few weeks, he was a decent person, maybe even good. But he kept me locked up here instead of granting me my final release, which was maybe the worst thing anyone was willing to do to me.

He didn’t allow others to come see me; the crowd from the city was only allowed to hurl insults through my barred window. Even Frank wasn’t permitted inside the jailhouse. I heard he walked with a limp now but had a never-ending smile. No attempts were made on my life and I could only assume that was thanks to Frank as well. The mob must have understood that leaving me here in this jail cell was better than a quick release of death.

Even though there were no rules or laws that governed Joey’s actions, he still held onto something that didn’t truly exist anymore. Maybe he’d wanted to be a policeman before
the forgetting
, or maybe he was one. But he seemed too young, and the clothes didn’t fight right.

“You know, you don’t have to watch over me,” I sighed.

I’d never admitted guilt, never would. But I never discredited Frank’s story either. It didn’t really matter. It wouldn’t lead me back to Olivia, wherever the poor girl was, or was buried. They never found her. Frank probably hid the body. That dirty bastard.

“Not today,” Joey stressed.

“Sure thing,” I replied.

There were only two days left anyway. No one had the faintest inkling that the timer was intertwined with my fate. My time was short enough to not worry about what Joey’s intentions were. As soon as that timer struck zero, my turning would commence, and whatever would happen, happened.

“Hmm…” Joey responded. He drew in a breath and let out a long sigh. “Well, sooner or later, we all answer for our sins.” He departed without another word. His words carried a heaviness, and it was like he wasn’t directly saying them to me.

“Maybe…” I said out loud to my empty cell. Maybe Frank and the rest of the mob could answer for their sins.

The rest of the day was uneventful as usual. A few people below my window shouted hateful comments every few hours, but they didn’t carry weight anymore. Soon enough, day became night, and lightning struck repeatedly in the center of the city. The thunder said my name between each boom.

Joey had lit a few candles in the hallway, and they flickered in the deep of the night. Three of the four sheriffs sat and conversed only a short distance from my cell. Focusing in on the only thing I could hear, I listened to their gossip.

“…so, Lynn saw one apparently,” one of them spoke. I couldn’t remember what his name was, but he had a very distinct voice. I called him
Big and Dumb
, because that’s what he was. “Said it was bleeding, had cuts all over the body. Real scary shit I guess.”

“I heards that too,” Bobby spoke up. “It looks humans I guess. But nots like us, you knows. I don’t evens knows.” Bobby’s diction was so broken it was hard to understand him. Yet his story was something else.

“Damn it, Bobby! Can you speak clearly?” the dumb one announced.

“Shut ups, Andy!”

“Andy…” I sighed. The big dumb one was Andy. At least one of my questions had been answered before the end of it all.

“Calm down, Bobby,” Joey added. “It’s definitely strange though, isn’t it? Just what the heck are they?”

“Where you think them coming from boss?” Andy asked.

“So, Lynn was the only one who saw it?” Joey asked, avoiding the initial question.

“Yups. No one elses yet,” Bobby piqued up.

“Okay,” Joey exhaled audibly. “Just keep an eye on her. She’s notorious for this type of stuff.”

“Shes a liars, huh boss?” Bobby scuffed.

“Not a liar. But likes to fabricate certain things.”

“Fabricates…?” Andy asked, dumbfounded.

“It means she likes to twist her words,” Joey answered.

“Twists…?” Andy said, still dumbfounded.

“Never mind. Just keep an eye out, for everything. I’m going to catch some z’s for a few. You just keep those doors locked. I don’t want anyone coming in unless it’s an emergency. And you wake me first, you understand me, you two?”

“Yes sirs,” Bobby said without hesitation.

“Sure thing, boss,” Andy followed the order.

I knew Bobby would leap at the opportunity of burying a bullet into me, but the leash that Joey had on him was nearly remarkable. Both deputies followed his law with the upmost willingness. Joey was a natural born leader who would have done far superior things if ever given the chance.

“Good. You know where I’ll be if you need me,” Joey said as he departed. He slept in the cell adjacent to mine. In that way, if something broke out he would be right there to defend me, in his odd sense of lawfulness.

“Sherriff,” I nodded in his direction as he walked past my cell. He didn’t say a word, barely even noticed I existed. Instead he walked on, entered the cell, and lay down on the bed, falling asleep shortly after.

“Sleep well, Sherriff,” I whispered.

Something flashed outside my cage, out in the world. I rose from my bed and leaned against the bars, looking toward the Downtown area. There was something at the tower, something with the timer. It was
flickering,
like it was dying. Then it shut off completely.