The Rasner Effect (24 page)

Royal again tried to look into the hallway when his attention was diverted by the sound of a scoff. He glared in that direction, eyeing Clara specifically. She threw him an innocent look, then rolled her eyes, and went to gazing out the barred window. Clara knew her teacher was pissed off, but she couldn’t care less. Not anymore. Soon, she wouldn’t be caring about anything, just like the boy in the back with the tube going into his arm.

“Now, you listen to me, young lady,” Royal pointed a finger at Clara. “There is something going on out there, which means this is not the time for your psychotic little…”

Before he could finish his statement, there came the sound of a key turning in the lock. Through the window, Clara saw the face of Rick Rasner. Maybe he was coming to get her out of here. At least in his office, she had a little time where she felt like a human being. Too bad, that’s about all he had the pull to do for her.

The door eased opened and Rick moved into the room like a man with a purpose. Something about him had changed. Clara couldn’t quite figure what it was. He wore the same clothes, his hair looked wet, but that wasn’t it. There was something—his eyes maybe. Or the way he—that’s it, he was looking at people, not at the floor the way he usually did.

Royal stepped in Rick’s way, placing a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. Clara wished Mr. Rasner would pop him one.

Royal bent down with his head and whispered to him so the class wouldn’t hear. He could tell them to mind their own business if he wanted, but Clara knew he was as curious about what went on in the hallway as everyone else. Royal had said the sounds were just somebody dropping something heavy. She knew gunshots when she heard them. Kevin said he saw someone lying on the floor. ’Til a minute ago, she’d wondered if it was Rick. Miller seemed to have it in for him. She wouldn’t put it past the bitch to shoot him right there in the corridor.

Rick didn’t answer Royal and she almost grinned. But instead of getting mad, Royal looked…well, he looked scared. She’d never seen him look anything but pissed.

“Mister Rasner, are you okay?” Royal asked. “Just what the hell is going on out there?”

Wordless, Rick placed his right palm against Royal’s chest and shoved him to the side. A muted cheer went up from two boys at the front of the classroom.

Rick eyed Clara. At first she was glad he’d focused on her, getting out of there was her single-minded goal every day. But something was really different. Was that blood on his face? He wasn’t standing crooked anymore. Usually, he looked so soft and quiet. It was the best thing she liked about him. Today, that was gone. Funny, she thought, he usually looks so scared of Royal, but right now it was the other way around.

Rick said, speaking to her, “I want you to know how right you are. They are screwing you, big time. Every single person in your entire life has basically screwed you, haven’t they?”

Clara felt her bewilderment grow—not so much from what he said—there was a gun tucked in his belt. He continued toward her.

“Mister Rasner, what the hell’s going on?” Royal shouted.

Clara wanted to tell him to shut up. She wanted to hear what Rick had to say. Perhaps he’d let them in on what was going on outside the room.

“It makes you feel helpless, doesn’t it, Clara?” Rick continued. “I’m talking about your family, this place. This whole fucking world. You’re like a doormat to all of them and you don’t have the power to do a damn thing about it.”

“Mister Rasner, what in god’s name are you doing?” Royal took a slow tentative step toward Rick.

He ignored Royal, keeping his focus on Clara, who couldn’t keep from staring at the man she had accepted as her therapist. Maybe as her friend. She understood his words, but couldn’t understand why he would be saying this stuff to her. In front of the other kids.

Everyone’s attention centered on Rick Rasner. Everyone’s, with the exception of the one boy in the back, the one with the fat IV bag that pumped zombie-shit into his system every minute of the day.

“It’s time all of that changed for you,” Rick said with a look of intensity she’d never seen in his face before. “You’ve suffered enough.”

“Mister Rasner, I must insist you either speak to me directly or leave my classroom immediately,” Royal shouted. His words showed more confusion than authority. Man, what was happening to everybody today? Wasn’t anyone acting like themselves?

“You’re right about one thing, Clara. They really don’t deserve your damn respect.”

A little at a time, Royal had been closing the distance between them. Rick turned his head toward Royal, annoyed by his presence.

It was Kevin, sitting behind Clara, who jumped out of his seat, pointing at Rick’s waist. “He’s got a gun!” Kevin shouted.

This was followed by a high-pitched scream from Rebecca. The scream brought about chaos as the children ducked under their seats, shouting and squealing. Clara and The IV Kid were the only ones who remained in their seats. Even IV Kid’s aide had disappeared.

“What the fuck?” Royal obviously wasn’t as observant as the members of his class. His eyes went down to Rick’s belt. Then he jerked a step backward throwing his arms in the air. “What the hell is this?”

As if on cue, Rick removed the gun from his belt with his left hand, whirled around, and fired the weapon three times into Royal’s chest. The teacher tumbled backward, smacking his head on the floor. It sounded like a melon Clara once saw bounce off the shelf at the vegetable stand. The thing had rolled into the street and been smashed under a cab. Royal’s hands clutched at his chest like he thought they could stop the bullets from hitting him.

“I was speaking!” Rick shouted as all the kids in the class screamed and ran for the door.

Clara stood up from her seat as well, but before she could take off, Rick put his body in her way. He took a step forward. She took one back. Rick glanced at the door. The kids all tried to run through at once. Clara stood with her back against the window ledge feeling overwhelmed and uncertain. Was he going to shoot her too? He still had the gun in his hand. A thin wisp of smoke came out of it.

Should she duck around him and try to get away? Was it better to be shot in the back than in the face? Rick placed his free hand on her shoulder, making the decision for her. He realized he pointed the gun at her and lowered it.

“The others all ran for their pathetic little lives,” Rick said, calmer now. “Watching their teacher take a few well-deserved bullets to the chest scared them. I’m betting it didn’t scare you, though. You’re different, aren’t you?”

“I’m not scared,” Clara tried to sound brave, but couldn’t tear her eyes from Royal’s body and the ocean of blood on the floor around him. She’d seen blood before, just not from somebody she knew.

“You see this, Clara? This is a symbol of power,” Rick held up the revolver. “My people are here, they’ve come to rescue me from this…this irrational reality. I’m going back to a world where the power and control is with us, not with shit-bags like your Mister Royal.”

Rick slipped the gun back underneath his belt. He stared into her eyes for a long time. She remained still. His fatherly smile told her he had no intention of hurting her.

“Would you like to know what real power feels like, Clara?”

Clara shook her head “N-no.” She paused, dropped her head for a moment in thought, and then shook it to say, “Yes.”

“Then come with me. It’s time for you to experience the other side of power.”

Rick grasped Clara by the back of the shirt and gently propelled her away from the wall. They both stared at Mr. Royal. His mouth hung open. Panic and shock filled his eyes. His shirt was saturated with blood. It looked as if it poured out from his hands, both of which still gripped to his chest.

“Wh-what…did y-you do…t-to me?” Royal struggled to get the words out. A stream of blood appeared in the corner of his mouth.

“I shot you in the chest and now you’re bleeding to death,” Rick stated in a matter of fact tone.

“B-but why?” Royal pleaded. “I’m a-a…good man, a…good teacher.”

“Why, Mister Royal, what in the world gave you
that
impression?”

Still holding the back of her shirt, Rick continued leading Clara to the door. They stepped over Royal’s body.

“Puh…pl-please,” Royal begged.

“You’re scum, Royal, and I can’t think of a better place for you to die…than alone in this room.” Rick let out a laugh and pulled the door closed. Then he checked the handle to make sure it was locked.

Clara stopped in her tracks. In front of her laid Officer James—face down on the floor—lifeless. It looked as if he had drowned in a puddle of cherry pudding, which had stained his dreadlocks red. Clara could see the end of the bullet through a hole in the back of his head.

“You killed him, too?” Clara asked, feeling kind of squeamish. She clasped her arms around her midsection.

“I wish I did, but no. I’m remembering now, a bullet to the back of the head. It was her, that’s her signature shot.”

“Who?”

Rick stood frozen in place looking at Officer James’ body. He seemed to be getting angry again. “They should have killed me. They’re all going to regret that decision.
He’s
going to regret it.”

Clara tried to step away from him, but he still had a grip of her sleeve and it got tighter. “Mr. Rasner?” Did he even realize she still stood there?

He blinked fast several times and then shifted his focus from the dead officer, as if he had just woken up from a trance. He looked down the hallway, to the end where two of the boys from Clara’s class banged on the doors, screaming. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, all things considered. The others huddled in the corner, looking like a brightly colored ball. Rebecca was further down the hallway from the group. She sat Indian-style in front of the main office, rocking back and forth and staring at the floor.

Rick glanced at Clara and smiled. The smile only confused her further. She’d been unable to read its meaning. “Come with me,” Rick said, pulling her with him and walking away from the dead safety officer’s body.

“Where are we going?”

“My office. For your final therapy session.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“We shouldn’t be staying here this long, Jennie, this is stupid.”

“I agree with you, Derrick.”

“But?” Derrick walked to the therapy suite door and peered through the window.

“But,” Jen smiled at a flustered Katherine Miller. “I’m curious to see what Rick is up to.”

“Well, it looks like we’re about to find out,” Derrick backed away from the door. “Here he comes now, and he’s bringing some black kid with him.”

The door swung open and Rick stormed inside leading a young girl. She wore dirty clothes and worn-out sneakers. Though he shoved her around, she didn’t seem forced or unwilling. He kicked the door shut.

He and the girl stopped near the facility director, Katherine Miller, who remained on her knees in the center of the room. His eye spotted the knife sticking out of her right thigh, and he grinned.

“I’m not surprised,” he said.

Jen rose from her place behind Rick’s desk, picking up her pistol from the clean felt blotter. She pointed it at Miller’s head and looked a question at Rick. She was pleased his two simple words, “not yet,” made the woman’s face go totally white.

“Who’s this?” Jen asked waggling the gun in Clara’s direction. Still the girl didn’t flinch.

“And why’d you bring her here?” Derrick added.

“Oh my god, Clara,” Hefner whispered.

With his hand on the nape of her neck, Rick brought Clara to the center of the room. He positioned her in front of and a few steps away from Miller.

“She is going to decide this witch’s fate. I’m giving her the power, it’s only appropriate after what they’ve done to her.”

Rick took Clara’s hands and aligned her arms in front of her. He placed his gun in her right hand and her finger on the trigger. Jen watched her eyes widen, and then narrow as she accepted the heft of the weapon. Rick then brought her left hand underneath for support. The gun pointed at Miller who watched the proceedings with growing horror.

Rick moved behind Clara. He looked down at Miller and then at Jen. His smile told her he trusted the girl. Clara seemed nervous; it showed in the taut line of her mouth. But she held the gun steady, even corrected Rick’s aim by a few degrees.

“Don’t be scared of the gun, Clara, it represents the power you’ve been looking for your entire life. You’ve said you wanted to kill the bitch! You have a right to and now is your chance.”

“I…don’t know.” Clara’s eyes moved from Miller to the gun.

“This evil bitch has ruined your life. And the lives of so many others. All because of her own ego-driven power. She hates you, and she made you pay for that hate every single day. Put an end to the misery, Clara. Just squeeze the trigger and justice is yours.”

“You’re calling me evil?” Miller shouted. “You put a gun in a child’s hands! If I’m evil, then just what the hell are you?”

“Take a good look at her, Clara. Look into her eyes. See the hate she has for you. Would you like to know what she had planned for you?”

Clara’s grip tightened, she stretched her arms out straight. The gun remained pointed in the direction of Katherine Miller. Her eyes narrowed.

“I already know,” Clara sobbed in a low whisper, “she was gonna…”

Clara’s hands began to shake and Jen’s disappointment grew. For a moment there, she thought she’d see another murder.

“She was gonna,” Clara repeated, “turn me into one ‘a them kids…”

“That’s right,” Rick said. “You were going to be another of those poor kids stuck in this hellhole, all drugged up, her walking examples to keep fear in the rest of her patients. The zombies who sit in the back of their classes without any idea they’re even alive.”

Miller’s eyes darted frantically around. Jen smirked. All this time she’d cowered her employees. Did she think they’d come to her rescue now? Jen wouldn’t be surprised if when Clara failed to kill the bitch, one of the others stepped into her place. Miller shot Jen a pleading look. Jen shrugged.

“She’s not an uncommon personality, this bitch.” Rick paced around the perimeter of the group. “There are a lot of people out there who make it their life’s goal to make others as miserable as they are. Most of these people never make a damn difference in the world because everyone stays away from them. Usually, they’re left to be miserable on their own.”