Damaged (30 page)

Adam was sweating, but Officer Rivers, however, looked like he'd taken a dip in the pool with his clothes on.

"Adam McNicols?" he said, reaching the bottom with his hands raised. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm unarmed, okay?"

He wasn't. He’d hidden his pistol in the back part of his belt. "I just want to come over and talk to you. Okay?"

"I didn't do nothing," Adam said. He could tell that Rivers wasn't buying it.

"Okay, I'm going to sit down in this chair here and talk to you. Don't blow us up now."

Adam held his hand over the pressure switch. Officer Rivers wiped a patch of sweat off his forehead. “Tell me what's going on."

"Why should I tell you?" Adam said, his hands trembling. "If I set this bomb down, are you going to let me go?"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. You do know the severity of what you've done, don't you?"

Adam stared him in the eyes. "Do you know the severity of what
they
did to me? What do
you
want from
me?
"

"I just want to know what you want and why you're doing what you're doing. Adam, why?"

Adam giggled.

Yes
, Officer Rivers thought,
one siiiiick fuck.

"Why bother? You wouldn't believe me. You wouldn't believe it if you lived in my shoes, so why should I fucking tell you? You're just like all of them—an upstanding citizen, a perfect little saint, a cop who can do no wrong. Am I right?"

The officer slowly lowered his hands. "I don't know what you're telling me. Can we work this out without that—" He pointed to the bomb. He then started to reach for it.

Adam shouted:
"Don't fucking do it
! I will kill us both. I'm not afraid to die anymore. What do I have to live for?"

"You have your whole life ahead of you."
Fat chance.

"Yeah? Behind bars, huh?"
Liar.

"Do you really want to blow yourself up? Kill me and innocent people outside?"
We are good people. You're the disgrace to humanity.

Adam laughed. "Innocent people? Out there? Where does it say that? I'd like to read the fine print."
Innocent my ass.
"I lived my whole life innocent. Now
I'm
the guilty one?" Adam's voice was on edge.

"Just take it easy, son."

"I'm not your son! And you're not my father. My father is dead because of those
innocent
people outside."

"Adam, you don't want to do this. What will—"

"How do you know what I do and do not want to do? Can you read my mind? Are all you people psychic? You
innocent
fucks?"

Officer Rivers set his hands on his lap. His left hand crept back toward his hip, toward the Glock.

"What do you want?" he asked Adam.

"I want to go somewhere else other than here, where people accept you no matter how social you are or what you look like … or because you're a little different than they are. I want to be treated like a human being. You'll never have to hear from me again, ‘cause I'm done killing. I made four mistakes and I'm doomed. You innocent people make dozens and you move up in life. Why?"

"I don't follow." His hand crept farther, farther.

"I knew you wouldn't. So, will you let me out of here? You can just send me to an island. Another country. Ireland. Canada. England. Anything's better than America. America is so free that people can do whatever the fuck they want to anyone, unless it's murder. And if they're rich or an authority figure, they can usually get away with that, too."

The cop was growing tense. More sweat puddled and dropped. It grossed Adam out.

"We can't let you go. You do know that murder is the most serious of crimes, don't you?"

Adam thought about it for a moment. "So stopping a person for being bad is a crime, but injuring a person for being good is okay?"

"You think what you did was good?"

"Everything I did before I killed the first person was, yeah. Before then, I never committed a single crime. I was perfect."

Yeah, right, like I'll believe that hogwash
. The cop nodded. His hand was almost touching his gun now. Adam noticed this; he wasn't stupid. He wanted the pig to go for it.

"What do you have in that thing?" Officer Rivers asked.

"Just gunpowder."

"That's all? You sure?"

"Yeah."

I wish this little fucker would tell me the truth,
the officer thought. His hand was dangerously close to the gun.

He asked another question: "How do you got it rigged? Cannon fuse?"

"Impact sensitive. Just push down on this little piece of metal, crush the bulb, and release a spark. It’s simple, really."

The officer pulled his hand away from his gun and set it back on his lap. He finally decided not to chance it.

***

Outside, the bomb squad had arrived. A small army of men jumped out of the black truck and dressed the willing contestant in a Kevlar suit and helmet. Soon, he looked like a green Stay-Puffed marshmallow man. The crowd had grown considerably, overflowing the streets. Cops couldn’t really keep them back, there were so many.

***

"What can I do for you?" the cop asked Adam.

Adam looked down at his bomb and rubbed the little switch. "You can at least die with me today… that is, if you don't let me go. Why should
I
fucking go to prison? What about you? What about all those kids in high school who do drugs and hurt other people? They don't go to prison, so why should I? Or is it just because I'm the victim?
Again
."

Right on, Adam,
Chris thought. He remained as still as he could behind the barrier he hoped would absorb any shrapnel, had the bomb went off. He, like Officer Rivers, was sweating bullets.

Rivers smiled—or tried to smile—and said, "Now, Adam, you don't want to kill either of us. I have a family…two little girls and a wife. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to grow up without me—"

"Sure laying on the guilt trip, aren't you? If you blow up, yes, I will feel sorry for your family, but then again, you're just another monster in my way, just like everyone else."

"You think I'm a monster?"

"Jesus, who isn't anymore? I'm tired of it all—everything. I'm tired of feeling empty, depressed, angry, worthless. I'm even tired of killing people. So why should I hand over this bomb to you? As soon as I give it to you, you're going to tackle me and become a completely different person. You won't be civilized anymore. Then I'll just feel worse. I don't want to be locked up behind bars with sick-assed child molesters, dumbass drug dealers who gang bang people for no reason, and murderers who kill just because their brains are distorted."

The officer went to say something, but Adam cut him off—

"No, my brain's not distorted, if you're wondering. It's fine. You see, there are two kinds of murderers… there are those that go out and kill people for fun—or for retarded reasons just because they are soulless—and there are those, like me, who kill so that we can live. I acted out of defense."

You abducted and tortured four people to death. I hardly call that defense,
Rivers thought.

"What do you think I am?" Adam asked him.

The cop didn't know how to respond, but did, anyway. "I understand your position and that people have wronged you, but you have to understand that you've broken the cardinal sins of law by your actions. How can I, or anybody, let you off with a slap on the wrist after you mutilated kids who were not even adults yet? It just doesn't happen. I'm not here to hurt you or belittle you in any way. I'm here to call a truce and to—"

Adam hurried in: "You don't dare call to me a truce. You're here to ruin me."

"I'm here to do my job." His hands shook visibly. Adam noted this and knew he was doing what he intended.

“Well, I'm not doing a fucking job!" Adam said. "I'm here to tell the truth. Not to submit to a fat, doughnut-eating bastard. I can see it in your eyes. You hate me."

"I don't hate you—"
Yes, I do.

"You fucking hate me! Say it! Tell me the truth, not your lies. I hear lies every day, from everybody.” Adam's finger was dangerously close to hitting the switch. Officer Rivers prayed to God it would not go off.

"The truth!"

"Adam, let's just call it a day—"

"
Truth!
"

"Adam—"

"Trrrrruth!
"

"I do not hate you—"

“You lying son of a bitch!"

"Okay, I hate you!
" the cop snapped. "I think you're crazy! A psycho! A madman. Weird. Evil. If I had my way, you would be dead already."

Chris could not believe his ears. Neither could Adam.

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now, tell me why you think that and I'll give you this bomb so you can cuff me, okay?"

The officer continued to watch the switch. Adam's thumb was shaking, but not all that much.

"I saw first-hand the aftermath of what you did to those teenagers. I saw the looks in their eyes. I saw one with his eye missing. I saw the way their bodies were tore open like corpses on autopsy tables. I wanted to get justice on whatever monster caused it. Now I know why they treated you the way they did. I probably would have treated you the same way."

Adam nodded.
Just another bully
, he thought.

"If you were going to blow us up, you would have done it already."

"Is that right?"

The cop did not look so sure.

The fire in Adam's eyes burned like molten steel. He suddenly remembered George Stroffgord, the first of his peers who'd
ever
bullied him (in grade school he purposely hit Adam in the face with a baseball and laughed)…Shannon Blex, the fat cow in middle school who scratched him across the face with her Lee-Press-On Nails because he looked at her
funny…
Harry Croccoss, who, in junior high, pantsed Adam and embarrassed him in front of the whole class… Dravid Torris, Greg Mitchell… Steve Oplen…Jason Peau …. Pete North… Mrs. Steiner…. Bain… Erica…
Erin
—days, weeks, months and years of being taunted, teased, put down and reprogrammed—flashed before Adam's inner-vision within the blink of an eye.

He put pressure on the trigger. Officer Rivers went to stand, to lunge, but Adam jumped to his feet. A struggle ensued.

Chris listened to the whole battle, waiting for the explosion to erupt. He heard Adam curse incoherent words at the officer as the officer fought to take control of the bomb. Things were knocked over, broken, stepped on. The officer was gasping for breath already.

“Dyou—goddammmm—other—ucker!" –Adam grunted. Chris actually wanted the cop to die. He could not deny that. But he didn't want to see Adam ripped apart by the monstrous blast… that's
if
it was going to go off at all.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Adam demanded. Officer Rivers tried to take the bomb off him and cuff him at the same time. It wasn't working. He forgot about his gun, his mace, his baton. The only thing he was focused on was that steel cylindrical thing that Adam was not giving up.

"You little evil, crazed, fucking lunatic—" the cop cried.

Adam actually laughed and said, "Now you know how I feel.
Now you die!"

The struggle stopped. Nobody said a word. Chris thought the bomb had gone off and he'd gone deaf.

Meanwhile, the front door upstairs opened. The green Stay-Puffed Marshmallow man entered.

Out of nowhere...

Booooom!

The blast was so enormous that Chris felt the heat from it from less than twenty feet away. The table he was hiding behind blew back and cracked him in the head pretty hard. The sound itself was deafening—a deep, bassy roar. Shrapnel ricocheted off every pipe and wall. One piece went halfway through his life-saving barricade.

At ground zero, concrete was severely cracked and damaged. Adam was not laughing anymore. The only sound now was that of dust being blown around the room. Chris was soon overwhelmed by it.

"Adam? Adam?" he said, standing up and stepping over the table. Yet, he could not see anything. The smoke masked everything.

He knew that Adam was dead now. One thing he could see—Officer River's severed arm wedged in between the staircase. Tissue oozed out of its socket, and four fingers were missing. The skin was charred as black as night.

At least he's dead.

"Hello? Is anybody down there?" the bomb squad guy yelled down.

Chris said, "I'm okay! Go get somebody!"

The man waddled back through the hallway and out the door.

Chris wanted, and didn't want, to see Adam's body. But the dust and smoke was so thick he could not breathe. So he headed upstairs, one step at a time… then stopped and turned around. He glanced back at the
secret passage
only he and Adam knew about.