Read Online End of Days by Max Turner - Free Book Online

out, plain and simple.” He turned around and tossed his clipboard down on his desk. It sat near an exit. Like my cell, it had a door of metal bars closing it off from a short stretch of hallway behind. That meant to escape, I’d have to get through at least two sets of bars: the ones of my cell, and the one for the whole jail.
    â€œIt’s one phone call. My family needs to know where I am.”
    Officer Lumsden picked up the clipboard again, then stopped and read for a few seconds. Whatever was written there made him scowl. “Says here you murdered Everett Johansson. Now why, if you killed a good friend of mine, would I reward you by breaking the rules?”
    â€œYou aren’t breaking any rules. I get legal counsel. I get to talk to a lawyer. I get a phone call.”
    The officer snorted, then turned back to his desk. “You watch too much television. You got the right to sit on your butt and chill. Says here you’re a terrorist. A threat to national security. That means no guests, no phone calls, no legal counsel, no chocolate pudding, no bedtime stories, and no favors.”
    â€œI didn’t do it.”
    â€œRight. Like I’m going to take your word over Detective Baddon, who feeds my cat when I’m out of town. Whose son used to play minor hockey with my son. Who’s an honest cop. Like Johansson was—before you killed him.” Lumsden scowled at me. “You don’t have a lot of friends in this place. Don’t be bothering me again.”
    I wanted to tell him that the inspector was a friend of mine, too, but I sensed I would have had an easier time convincing him I was the king of Spain. “Can I have some water?”
    I didn’t get an answer. It didn’t matter. What use was a glass of water? I’d be better off asking for some sunscreen. I went back to the metal bed and lay down on the cold floor underneath. With the manacles around my ankles and no pillow, it was about as comfortable as a bed of sharp stones.
    Time passed. I drifted off. I dreamt I was back at our house running on the treadmill. My trial was on television. First I was accused of vandalizing the zoo. Then I was accused of killing Everett Johansson. I was also charged with breaking into his house and wrecking one of his lamps. As if that really mattered. The prosecuting lawyer was Clint Eastwood. He was wearing his cowboy outfit and riding on a mule. Every now and then he’d pull out his gun and shoot someone’s hat off, and the jury would shout things like “What a classic!” and “Go ahead. Make my day.” My lawyer was a Ken doll. The judge was charging him with contempt of court because he wasn’t wearing any pants. Don’t ask me what it all meant. I only mention it because one second I was sitting alone on my couch watching the fiasco unfold, and the next minute Ophelia was sitting beside me.
    â€œInteresting program.” She was dressed in her old nurse’s uniform.
    â€œThey’re about to announce the verdict.” I turned back to the television. My stomach was trying to tear itself loose. I knew I was going to get put away for life if they found me guilty.
    Ophelia stood up and turned the TV off. “Asleep or awake, television is generally a waste of time.”
    I sensed I wasn’t dreaming anymore. I wasn’t exactly awake, but dreams have a certain quality, and so does real life. I would have put this somewhere in the middle. Then the scenery changed. The walls of the room faded to black and the comfortable bedroom around me transformed itself to the outdoor play area of the zoo.
    â€œWhat just happened?” I asked.
    â€œI just turned off the television,” Ophelia said. “And you changed the scenery.”
    I looked around. The two dead wolves were lying on the ground, their blood oozing into the sand. I could hear a rusty set of swings creaking in the wind.
    â€œWe’re examining the crime