Read Online In Springdale Town by Robert Freeman Wexler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert Freeman Wexler
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Fantasy, Contemporary, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Paranormal & Urban, Mythology & Folk Tales, Fairy Tales
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his connection.”
“You must perform the separation,” the tall policewoman said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t be stupid!” Her spittle brushed my cheeks. I started to yell back at her, but she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the door. The back of my head struck its hard surface, and I cried out. My vision turned yellow, black, and red. I flailed my arms but couldn’t break her grip. A rush and confusion of voices filled the room–Sammy’s, Scooter’s rumble–then the tall policewoman released me.
Scooter spoke: “Please believe me. Officer Mercurio has never raised her voice or struck anyone in her life. The other’s presence...distortion. The removal must be done now.”
My head throbbed. The tall policewoman, Officer Mercurio, her face was still too close. Her eyes, a dull brown, stared into mine and I couldn’t break contact, couldn’t blink. She spoke, her voice low and soothing: “Rare and marvelous though it is, a moment of exquisite alignment of script, cast, and performance can cause a new reality to emerge, inhabited by the characters involved in that moment.” She said some other things, but I couldn’t grasp any of it. At some point she stopped and turned away.
Sammy held a hand near my face, but didn’t touch me. “You understand now, don’t you?” she asked. “Not everyone here knows these things.”
Officer Mercurio unsnapped her holster and withdrew some kind of automatic pistol. I knew nothing about guns. I took a step back. “No–I can’t shoot a person.”
She pulled my hand over the grip and squeezed my fingers around it. “Has to be the head. Move closer.” When I didn’t move, she gripped both my shoulders and shook me. “Only you can perform the restoration. Now.”
“What happens if I don’t do it?”
Officer Mercurio screamed–“You’re a fool! A base and ignorant man–you have no idea what forces are involved, the consequences we all live with, the powers shaping our lives.”
Scooter quieted her, then spoke: “She’s right. You don’t know. That isn’t your fault, none of it is your fault, but that doesn’t change the circumstances. If you do it, no harm will come to your counterpart. The only other choice is for us to erase both of you.”
I stepped nearer to my counterpart and raised the gun. It was too heavy for one hand, and its weight seemed to increase the longer I held it–a fell instrument of dire construction, I thought. The man in bed stared at me with my eyes, but I had the impression that what he saw differed from my vision of the room. Did he see a man, a man with his face, pointing a gun at him? Holding the gun with both hands, I sighted down the barrel.
As I fired, I saw the bullet from both sides, its slow, straight path away from me but also flying into my face, so close now that I could read the letters on its tip.
The recoil threw me against the door. The other separated from me, and as he slipped away, I had a sense that he was returning to something. My head throbbed even more and my vision blurred. Someone removed the gun from my hand. Sammy’s arms encircled me, and I took solace in her touch.
21
Shelling watched a black, circular body pass before a fiery disk. The movement of the black shape captured his attention. He couldn’t look away, and as he watched, he lost all desire to try. Something–some warning he had once read about direct viewing of solar eclipses–flashed across his consciousness. The black shape kept moving until it obscured the fire, and in the ensuing darkness a cloud of chilled air covered him.
22
When my eyes were working again, I moved closer to the bed. I needed to see what I had done. The man’s head had exploded, painting the wall in bone and blood. I gagged and tried to back away, but my knees gave out. Scooter was there for support on one side, Sammy on the other. They carried me into the hallway and lowered me to the floor. The reddish lights of the hallway
“You must perform the separation,” the tall policewoman said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t be stupid!” Her spittle brushed my cheeks. I started to yell back at her, but she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the door. The back of my head struck its hard surface, and I cried out. My vision turned yellow, black, and red. I flailed my arms but couldn’t break her grip. A rush and confusion of voices filled the room–Sammy’s, Scooter’s rumble–then the tall policewoman released me.
Scooter spoke: “Please believe me. Officer Mercurio has never raised her voice or struck anyone in her life. The other’s presence...distortion. The removal must be done now.”
My head throbbed. The tall policewoman, Officer Mercurio, her face was still too close. Her eyes, a dull brown, stared into mine and I couldn’t break contact, couldn’t blink. She spoke, her voice low and soothing: “Rare and marvelous though it is, a moment of exquisite alignment of script, cast, and performance can cause a new reality to emerge, inhabited by the characters involved in that moment.” She said some other things, but I couldn’t grasp any of it. At some point she stopped and turned away.
Sammy held a hand near my face, but didn’t touch me. “You understand now, don’t you?” she asked. “Not everyone here knows these things.”
Officer Mercurio unsnapped her holster and withdrew some kind of automatic pistol. I knew nothing about guns. I took a step back. “No–I can’t shoot a person.”
She pulled my hand over the grip and squeezed my fingers around it. “Has to be the head. Move closer.” When I didn’t move, she gripped both my shoulders and shook me. “Only you can perform the restoration. Now.”
“What happens if I don’t do it?”
Officer Mercurio screamed–“You’re a fool! A base and ignorant man–you have no idea what forces are involved, the consequences we all live with, the powers shaping our lives.”
Scooter quieted her, then spoke: “She’s right. You don’t know. That isn’t your fault, none of it is your fault, but that doesn’t change the circumstances. If you do it, no harm will come to your counterpart. The only other choice is for us to erase both of you.”
I stepped nearer to my counterpart and raised the gun. It was too heavy for one hand, and its weight seemed to increase the longer I held it–a fell instrument of dire construction, I thought. The man in bed stared at me with my eyes, but I had the impression that what he saw differed from my vision of the room. Did he see a man, a man with his face, pointing a gun at him? Holding the gun with both hands, I sighted down the barrel.
As I fired, I saw the bullet from both sides, its slow, straight path away from me but also flying into my face, so close now that I could read the letters on its tip.
The recoil threw me against the door. The other separated from me, and as he slipped away, I had a sense that he was returning to something. My head throbbed even more and my vision blurred. Someone removed the gun from my hand. Sammy’s arms encircled me, and I took solace in her touch.
21
Shelling watched a black, circular body pass before a fiery disk. The movement of the black shape captured his attention. He couldn’t look away, and as he watched, he lost all desire to try. Something–some warning he had once read about direct viewing of solar eclipses–flashed across his consciousness. The black shape kept moving until it obscured the fire, and in the ensuing darkness a cloud of chilled air covered him.
22
When my eyes were working again, I moved closer to the bed. I needed to see what I had done. The man’s head had exploded, painting the wall in bone and blood. I gagged and tried to back away, but my knees gave out. Scooter was there for support on one side, Sammy on the other. They carried me into the hallway and lowered me to the floor. The reddish lights of the hallway
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