The Minnesota Candidate (42 page)

Tom looked around the burning room. He scanned
the walls, but everything seemed to be burning. He turned back to
Levitz, but found himself staring into the face of President
Peabody. “My car!” shouted the President. “I have everything we
need in my car. We have to move!”

“You’re responsible for this!” shouted Tom. “Why
should we trust you?”

“Because you don’t have a choice! This place is
burning up!”

Tom knew that was true. He spotted his mom with
the Secret Service Agent who had done all of the shooting, and they
were helping Chona to her feet. The Agent had taken off his shirt
and it was now tied around Chona’s bloody forehead. None of this
made sense. And then he remembered the ray gun. Tom spun around and
pushed Levitz out of his way. He then grabbed Sam and hefted him
over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Without another word, he
followed Peabody out of the burning laboratory. Somehow, Tom found
the strength to run.

Marie and the other Secret Service Agents were
waiting for them in the garage. Peabody opened the trunk of his
limousine and removed a black valise. He flung it at Levitz. Black
smoke billowed out from the loading dock doors. Sam lay on his
back, next to the black car, writhing in pain and fighting for air.
His prison tattoos were in sharp contrast to his pale skin. Levitz
worked quickly, plugging the wounds with thick pads of gauze. With
President Peabody’s assistance, he then wrapped a white bandage
around Sam’s bloody chest. “Stay with us, honeybuns!” shouted
Chona.

Tom ran to his mother and Marie. The two women
were locked in an embrace. “Doris,” cried Marie, “I thought you
were dead. I just realized that my life would be meaningless
without you in it!”

“Blow it out your ass, Marie,” replied Doris.
“Who are you trying to kid?”

“I mean it,” sobbed Marie, who was now clinging
to Tom’s mother like a frightened toddler. “I’ve never said this
before, but I love you!”

Doris pried herself away from Marie and then she
slapped her across the face. “Stop it, Marie!” she shouted. “You’re
scaring me!”

Tom stared at the ray gun stuffed into the
waistband of his mother’s nylon slacks. He then looked up to Marie.
She held her arms wide and was trying to hug his mom. “You’re my
entire world,” she continued, undaunted by the slap to the
face.

Tom turned to face the Secret Service Agents and
he shook his head. The men were acting like lost children, suddenly
reunited with their families. Like Marie, they were crying and
hugging and carrying on in a most shameless manner. Tom thought
about the ray gun. Everyone except himself, his mother, and Levitz,
had been blasted by the little weapon. The ray gun had completely
changed these people, or so it seemed. He was going to have to
shoot Shari with that same ray gun. How would she respond? Tom had
no idea.

Somehow, Peabody and Chona loaded Sam into the
back of the limousine. “Everyone,” shouted President Peabody, “into
the cars! We’ve got to get out of here!”

Tom rode in the back of one of the SUV’s with
his mother and Marie. The motorcade barreled down the smoky tunnel,
around several tight corners, winding up from the subterranean
laboratory. The lights inside the tunnel began to flicker and then
they blinked out. The tunnel seemed endless, but just as Tom was
thinking that, he saw stars twinkling ahead of them. The motorcade
bounced out of the tunnel and into the night. Tom had no idea where
they were. Tall fences topped with concertina wire ran along both
sides of the dirt road. They passed through two gates before
reaching the highway.

“No, shouted Tom, “you’re going the wrong
way!”

“We have to stay with President Peabody,” said
the driver.

“Then stop and let me out of here!”

“We can’t do that, sir,” said the Secret Service
Agent riding shotgun.

“You have to,” pleaded Tom, “my wife is dying! I
have to get back to her.”

The two agents exchanged worried looks and
suddenly the SUV’s tires were screeching on the asphalt. Tom’s
mother handed him the ray gun. “Good luck,” she said. “I’m going to
ride with these guys. Hey, I saved the day and deserve some kind of
a reward.”

Tom took the ray gun and kissed his mother on
the cheek. “We love you, Tommy,” said Marie, who was sitting on the
other side of his mother.

“Will you stop being such a sap?” asked
Doris.

Tom barely heard her. His door was already open
and he was climbing out into the night air. He had no sooner
slammed the door when the SUV roared ahead, chasing the fading
taillights in the distance. Clutching the ray gun, Tom began to run
down the shoulder of the road. Up ahead, the sky glowed in shades
of orange and red. Tom had never felt so physically drained. Still,
he pushed himself to previously unimagined levels of exhaustion. He
became lightheaded and for the first time in his life, Tom
experienced a runner’s high. He was happy for this, but he felt the
buzz was highly overrated. By the time Tom reached the driveway,
the flames were shooting a hundred feet into the night sky.

And then Tom tripped. He tumbled to the ground,
scraping his shins and elbows, but somehow he retained his grip on
the ray gun. Panting, he staggered to his feet. Suddenly, careening
around the bend in the road, Tom saw a pair of headlights. The
vehicle was nearly upon him before it screeched to a halt. Tom
shielded his eyes, wondering who was in the car. He was then hit
with a spotlight and bathed in flashing red and blue lights. “Oh
shit,” he groaned. He jerked his gun hand behind his back.

Two police officers leapt from the cruiser. What
they said next chilled Tom to the bone. “Allah Akbar!” one man
shouted, “Allah Akbar!” replied the other.

Flames erupted from the muzzles of their guns,
just as Tom flung himself to the ground. Bullets pinged off of the
asphalt as he twisted out of the spotlight. Without thinking, Tom
leveled the ray gun in their direction and he pulled the trigger.
The little gun shuddered in his hand and neon red light illuminated
both the car and the police officers. The men were knocked off
their feet and the lights of the car exploded in a shower of
sparks. A mere second later, the car burst into flames.

Tom rolled down into the ditch, the ray gun
trained on the burning car. A moment later, Tom heard male voices.
“Probasco, are you alright?”

“Bouchard, is that you? What the hell
happened?”

“I don’t know… is that our car?”

“Holy shit… God help us.”

Tom didn’t wait to hear the rest. He sprang to
his feet and he ran towards the gate. Ahead, the fire was raging
out of control. Tom ran around the gate and back to the driveway.
His feet felt like cement blocks and his breath came is pattering
gasps, but Tom pushed on. He plodded around the S curves and
clomped over the hill. The firelight threatened to blind him.
Staggering, choking, cursing, Tom fought his way through the smoke.
Tom plunged blindly down the driveway, until he crashed into the
fallen tree. The ray gun flew from his hands. “No!” he cried.

Tom struggled to get to his knees. Thankfully,
he was below the thick black smoke and he gulped mouthfuls of the
fresh night air. He probed a bloody knot on his forehead and
gathered his senses. He had to find the ray gun, but the light from
the fire had been blotted out by the heavy smoke. He crawled around
on his hands and skinned-up knees, fighting against the angry
branches of the fallen oak. Tom screamed in frustration. He had
come so close.

“Freeze!” shouted a familiar voice.

Tom was illuminated in the beam of a powerful
flashlight. Wild with anger, he gnashed his teeth at the police
officers. “Don’t you move,” said the cop Tom recognized as
Bouchard. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, buddy.”

Tom howled like a rabid dog, clawing his fingers
into the night air.

“He’s one of them!” shouted Probasco. “He’s been
converted!”

“No, I haven’t!” cried Tom. “You guys were
converted and I’m the guy who saved you! Think about it. How did
you get here?”

“I don’t know,” said Bouchard. “We don’t
remember.”

“Don’t listen to him!” shouted Probasco.

“No, wait a minute, Probasco. I remember you
saying Allah Akbar. I thought you were a Christian?”

“No, I’m pretty sure that was you, buddy. I
don’t know… everything is kind of fuzzy.”

Furiously, Tom shook his head and continued
searching for the fallen ray gun. Gnarled branches raked at his
skin and one nearly caught him in the eye. Tom thrashed around, his
hands and knees grinding down upon the broken sticks and twigs.

“What are you looking for?” asked Bouchard,
lowering his gun.

Just then, Tom found the ray gun. He picked it
up and thrust it into the air. “Yes!” he cried.

“He’s got a gun!” shouted Probasco.

“Freeze!” shouted Bouchard.

“What’s going on out here?” asked the sweet old
lady voice of Alice Kindersley. “Tommy, is that you?”

Tom was about to reply, when he heard a popping
sound. The next thing he knew, Tom was writhing in the broken
branches as electricity was pumped into his body. The ray gun flew
from his hand as Tom convulsed like a fish out of water. On some
level, Tom realized that he had shot by a Taser. And then the
entire world went black.

Tom opened his eyes and realized he was now
stretched out on the patio. Painfully, he pushed himself into a
sitting position. Alice stood over him with her hands on her hips.
“Where have you been and what have you done?” she squawked. “I
didn’t tell you to burn the house down and I know Norma didn’t
write that in her journals. I expected you back here, several hours
ago. Your wife could be dead by now, for all that I know.”

“The police?” asked Tom, as he staggered to his
feet.

“I took them up to your bedroom and they took
off running. I don’t know where they ran off to. But that was
almost an hour ago. Naamah is gone. I don’t know what happened, but
Shari is back. She’s still mad as a hornet. You had better get
upstairs with that ray gun, Tommy.”

Tom rubbed his eyes. Behind them, the black sky
was filled with flashing red lights. “Shari is back? What about the
ray gun? But I don’t have it. I dropped it back at the tree.”

“Don’t you think that I know that? Give me some
credit. I’m not some blundering fool. I found the ray gun and its
sitting right there on the table. Shari is still programmed. You
have to shoot her.”

Tom spotted the ray gun. He staggered forward
and grasped it in his right hand. “Why didn’t you use it on Shari?”
he asked.

“Why didn’t I use it? You didn’t read the
journals, did you? I should have known better than to trust you.
How many times did I ask you to read them, Tommy?”

Tom flung his free hand up. “Okay, I get it. I’m
sorry, but there just wasn’t time.”

“If I only had a nickel for every time I’ve
heard that excuse, well, I’d be living in the Bahamas.”

Tom was beyond exhausted, but Alice’s nagging
pushed him inside the patio door, through the dining room, and onto
the staircase. The power was out, but the house was illuminated by
the light of several candles. Tom’s knees barked in pain as he
climbed the stairs. He held the ray gun in his left hand and
clutched at the railing with his right. From the bedroom, the
thumping began. Glass shattered and something began to wail. Tom
clawed his way to the door. He grabbed the handle and shoved with
all of his strength. The door didn’t budge. “Damn it!” cried Tom.
“What next?”

Chapter 30

President Peabody rode in the front seat and
made a series of phone calls. After he was finished, the limousine
stopped and Peabody hopped in back and sat next to Levitz. With
Chona tending to Sam, Senator Levitz and President Peabody
conversed in the opposite seat. Levitz was still angry about his
plane being shot down and the crash of his medevac chopper. “How
could you do that?” he asked. “What did I ever do to you?”

Peabody’s eyes flashed with presidential
indignation. “Senator Levitz,” he snapped, “how long have you been
serving in the Senate?”

“Twelve years.”

“And twelve years into this, you’re still
clueless how our government operates? Really, I find that hard to
believe. Do you really think I call the shots? I swear on my
mother’s grave that I had nothing to do with your accident.”

“There were two,” said Levitz, “and they weren’t
accidents. A lot of good people were killed.”

“And our country grieves for them. Merle, can I
give you some advice? You’ve got to stop swimming against the
current. I’m going to need you on my side if we have any chance of
beating this thing. The plan was to activate the conversion chips
and that was supposed to be sometime, last night. By now, half the
country has likely converted to Islam. And as if that wasn’t bad
enough, they were turned into radical Islamic extremists. This is
going to be an uphill battle, Merle. I need to know if I can count
on you. I need to know if America can count on you.”

“Half the country?” spat Levitz. “How could you
have gone along with such a thing? Look, I’m still running against
you. I just want your word that you’ll call your dogs off. I need
to know that I’ll be safe. I have a family to think of.”

“This isn’t my circus and those aren’t my dogs.
Merle, have you even been listening to me? I don’t make the
decisions, you know that. Go ahead, run against me. And do you know
what? I hope you win. See how much you like being president. Nobody
works with you. Congress just twists your words to suit their
purposes. The press hates you and picks your family apart. Do you
know what? You could sponsor a bill that would eradicate world
hunger, but it’d never pass. Oh yeah, being president is
great.”

“That might be how it is for you. You’re a
Republican. The people will love me.”