Gregg reached for the old man’s hat, only holding where it looked to be the driest. Taking it from his head, he looked inside before tossing it to the floor. The old man standing before him was around six-feet in height, he looked to be between fifty and sixty years of age. His hair was a dirty grey, his skin texture looked smooth but grimy, and his eyes smouldered deep red.
Gregg spun him around pushing him up against the cell bars to search him. All he found was a small plastic box, he opened it to see two large contact lenses, the iris portion was coloured light brown, but outside of this was pure white with a couple of faint, very thin red lines resembling capillary veins. They were obviously meant to cover the whole of the eye. Gregg tossed the plastic box and its contents to the floor and resumed his search. When he was satisfied the old man had no concealed weapons, he turned him back and indicated to Vicky’s cell.
‘In there, move,’ he ordered.
The old man backed up, doing exactly as he’d been told; Gregg held the gun only inches from his face until he closed and locked the door after him. Jill stood over by the desk; she glanced at Vicky but soon fixed her eyes back on the old man.
Gregg backed up and sat on the edge of the desk quite close to Jill. ‘I’m going to ask you some questions, now,’ he said, folding his arms. ‘And you’ll answer those questions. If I don’t like any of the answers you give me. Or I think you’re lying to me. I’ll shoot you. Is that understood?’
The man nodded. ‘But you won’t get away with this,’ he said. ‘They’ll send others after me, and they’ll come after you.’
‘Well we’ll worry about that when it happens. Now, how many of you are there?’
The old man breathed a couple of times before responding. ‘A hundred; give or take a few.’
‘And where are they now?’
‘They’re all at the other end of that tunnel, in there,’ he said, nodding to his left. ‘And if I’m not back soon, they’ll all be at this end of that tunnel, in here.’
‘Like I said, let us worry about that. Tell me why they’re all up there?’ The man closed his mouth staying silent. Gregg pointed his gun at him. ‘You have two seconds in which to answer.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Jill. ‘I have a much better idea.’
She crossed in front of Gregg and made her way to the washroom. After only a few seconds she came back out looking around the station room. Gregg watched as she picked up the empty vase from off the cupboard under the window and disappeared back into washroom. He had an idea what it was she was doing, and judging by the worried look on the old man’s face, he seemed to know for certain what was coming.
Jill again exited the washroom. ‘Tap’s dry,’ was all she said. Without another word, she opened the station room door and was outside for no more than thirty seconds. She returned with a vase full of brown, muddy water. ‘Now,’ she said, forcing the door shut with her backside. ‘Are you going to answer the question, or take a shower?’
The old man looked from Jill back to Gregg. ‘Would ya mind askin’ me that question again, sir?’
Gregg stood from the desk. ‘I asked why everyone was up at the town hall. What are they doing there?’
‘We all go up there durin’ a storm; we watch the rain from there.’
‘Why do you watch the rain?’ asked Jill.
He turned raising his shoulders. ‘It’s somethin’ we do,’ he replied, ‘we don’t know why we do it, we just do.’
‘Gregg’s one of you, why doesn’t he watch the rain?’
Gregg frowned looking over to Jill. If that wasn’t rubbing it in, what was?
‘If he don’t watch the rain, means he ain’t tasted the honey-salt.’
Gregg looked back to the old man. ‘The honey-salt?’
‘S’what she’ll taste like,’ he said, nodding towards Jill, ‘if you have half a mind to find out.’
Gregg felt he should change the subject. If he was to taste Jill, and although the prospect of that did, to some degree, sound pleasing, it certainly wouldn’t involve biting, well, not too deep.
‘This Ella, is she the big cheese?’
Zach scoffed at that question. ‘That’s what she likes to think.’
‘So if she isn’t, who is?’
Zach again stalled, even more reluctant to answer this one. Jill cupped a hand and scooped up some of the water throwing it at him. Probably because he hesitated, but Gregg felt it was mostly because she’s nobody’s honey-salt. The old man saw it coming and managed turned his back.
‘Next time you get the lot!’ Jill promised.
The old man composed himself before continuing. ‘We call him, “The Primary One.”’
‘The Primary One? As in the first?’ said Gregg.
He nodded. ‘He’s the one started all this off, ain’t seen him for a while mind. S’posed to be workin’ on somethin’ new, somethin’ that’s gonna change us.’
Gregg wasn’t interested in their future. After seeing what they’d done to those young girls and Vicky, as far as he was concerned, he hoped they wouldn’t have one. And if it was left up to him, they certainly wouldn’t. ‘So where does everyone else fit into this? I mean, I don’t believe you all volunteered to become … freaks.’
‘Some of em’ were just kids, sixteen-year-olds, that’s when they suffered the Turning.’
‘What’s the “Turning”?’
‘That’s what we called it back then, when you turned sixteen, you got the jab.’
‘Were you one of those kids?’ asked Jill.
Again the old man scoffed. ‘No, I’ve always been part of the Collective.’
‘What’s the Collective?’ asked Gregg.
‘We are, this whole town is, every one of us. I’ve been part of it ever since we first moved here from Charleston in 1919. I was offered the chance to live a long and healthy life, so I took it, who wouldn’t? Didn’t know the full consequences at the time mind, but I’m not complainin’ now.’
Jill stepped forward. ‘1919? So ... exactly how old are you?’
He smiled. ‘Would you believe a hundred and thirty-six? I was forty years old with a bad heart, and blind in one eye when I accepted, strong as an Ox she is now, and I see perfect too,’ he said thumping his chest and winking at Jill.
Gregg sat back on the desk and Jill lowered the vase. ‘And are you still turning people now?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Nope, not turned anyone for fifteen years or more.’
It was Gregg’s turn to scoff. ‘I beg to differ,’ he said, again rubbing the spot where he’d earlier been injected.
‘You were a one-off, just a meddlesome investigator snoopin’ around, sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.’ He looked into the other cell. ‘Hal there didn’t like it, he wanted to shoot you straight off, can’t say I blame him myself.’
‘Okay, back to the town hall. How many entrances are there?’
‘Only the one, why, are you thinkin’ of breakin’ in? Cause once that door’s locked, the place is like a fortress.’
‘Will it be locked now?’
‘It’s always locked when it rains. No one goes in, and no one comes out, not till the rain stops anyways.’
‘Unless they use the tunnel,’ stated Jill.
The old man looked at her but didn’t comment.
‘About the tunnel,’ said Gregg. ‘Is it the only one?’
‘The tunnel from here goes to the town hall, but there are other tunnels leading from it, connecting the cinema, the schoolhouse, the garage, and the library.’
Jill moved to the desk picking up the map she’d taken from the notice board, she held it out for the old man to see. ‘It doesn’t show them on here.’
‘Don’t need to, each building has its own map.’
Gregg went over to the writing table. He plucked the pen from its holder and took the map from Jill before passing them both through the bars. ‘Draw me the tunnels that aren’t on this map.’
The old man spent a couple of minutes drawing before handing the map back through the bars.
‘Now tell me where the girls are, and I don’t mean the six in there.’ Gregg said, pointing through to the courtroom.
‘Upstairs in the town hall.’
‘Where upstairs ... exactly?’
‘They’re in a small room in the centre of the landing, facing the front doors. There are five rooms; it’s the one in the middle.’
‘Will anyone be guarding it?’
‘No, I told you … everyone watches, until it stops, everyone will be stood at the windows looking out at the rain!’
Jill watched as Gregg took aim. ‘Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.’
Even though she was expecting it, she still jumped on hearing the sudden bang, and the splat of a cupful of water hit the floor the same time the old man did. The rest of it, she threw into the cell, most of which hit the old man’s face, but did no damage.
‘Just making sure I take it?’ asked Gregg.
‘Just making sure,’ replied Jill, putting the vase on the writing table behind her.
They both knew for certain now, death was one cure for the water affliction they suffered from. Unfortunately, not the best of news from Gregg’s point of view.
Jill turned back to the cells looking once more at her friend, she wanted so much to sit with Vicky, to hold her close, she wanted to tell her how this was just some kind of weird nightmare she was having, and when she awoke, she’d still see her best friend driving the car and singing quietly along to her favourite music.
Gregg looked over at Jill; there was grief in her eyes and plenty of it He wanted to say something meaningful, something perhaps poignant, but knew he would only be intruding on her thoughts. Looking at her face, he couldn’t tell if she was shedding more tears, or rainwater was running down her cheeks. He hoped the latter. As selfish as that may sound, he needed her to stay strong through this, and up to now she’d exceeded his expectations on that front. A clap of thunder overhead ended the sense of privacy Jill seemed to have ensconced herself in, with a sharp intake of breath she returned to the reality of their situation.
Gregg felt an intrusion at this point wouldn’t be too inappropriate, but left it at a one syllable word. ‘Jill?’
She blinked a couple of times before reacting. ‘Yeah, sorry, I was …’ she trailed off.
Gregg gave her a sympathetic smile and a slow nod. ‘Yeah, I know.’
Jill spun and headed back to the washroom. ‘Back in a couple of minutes,’ she said.
Gregg put his gun into the back of his jeans and picked up the old man’s flashlight; he turned it on and off a couple of times to test it worked okay. He unlocked and opened the cell door taking the old man’s gloves, which fitted him much better than Hal’s did. He then looked across to where Vicky lay to see quite an amount of blood pooled around her body. It was time she was covered over, if only for Jill’s sake. He remembered seeing blankets in the cupboard by the door, and after taking one out and placing it over her, he crossed himself.
Jill saw this as she returned from the washroom. ‘Thanks, Gregg. That was nice of you,’ she said, a quiver lacing her words.
She’d managed to rub from her face, all but the tiny specks of her make-up, including the black lines, which beforehand, cascaded down to her jaw line. She was now looking through Hal’s desk drawers for something to tie her hair back with. There were no rubber bands in the desk, so she used a Zip-Lock to hold her pony-tail in place. And the T-shirt she wore was now adorned with an up-side-down image of her.
‘Much better,’ commented Gregg with a smile.
Jill looked at him with some concern. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’
She paused. ‘There’s something I need to know,’ she paused again, this one a nervous pause. ‘I need to know … if you’re thirsty yet?’
Gregg paused also. ‘You mean blood thirsty?’ he said, his brow rising slightly. ‘No, Jill. But you’ll be the first to know when I am.’
She sighed. ‘What now then, we find the girls?’
‘That is certainly on my agenda, and it’s something I can do without any help from you.’ Raising one hand he pointed. ‘You go through that door, turn right, and keep going until you hit a town. As long as it’s raining no one will come after you.’
Jill had no intentions of going anywhere without Gregg. Not until he got thirsty that was. ‘Under normal circumstances, I’d have to agree with you,’ she replied. ‘But this could be the bit in the movie where the dumb-blonde, for reasons known only to the director, doesn’t switch on the light when she goes into the dark, haunted mansion. And continually calls out for someone who never answers, thus telling a two-foot psychotic doll called Chucky, exactly where she is, and then wonders why she gets herself killed. So I think I’ll stay.’
‘But you’re not dumb, nor are you blonde.’ Gregg replied.
‘Correct, so therefore, I’m not dumb-blonde enough to go out there and get lost in those woods. So for now, like it or not, you’re stuck with me.’
‘Well I guess that makes me the fortunate one then, doesn’t it?’
Jill nodded. ‘I guess it does.’
‘Okay, have you ever fired a gun before?’
‘No … but if I had to, I could. You can count on that!’
