Stephen King - Under the Dome

“I’ll bet.”

“For now we’ll just keep you in this cozy cell, all right? I don’t think you’ll eat much, because eating interferes with thinking. Who knows? With constructive thinking, you may come up with better reasons for me to allow you to go on living. The names of those in town who are against me, for instance. A complete list. I’ll give you forty-eight hours. Then, if you can’t convince me otherwise, you’ll be executed in War Memorial Plaza with the entire town looking on. You’ll serve as an object lesson.”

“You really don’t look well, Selectman.”

Rennie studied him gravely. “It’s your kind that causes most of the trouble in the world. If I didn’t think your execution would serve this town as a unifying principle and a much-needed catharsis, I’d have Mr. Thibodeau shoot you right now.”

“Do that and it all comes out,” Barbie said. “People from one end of this town to the other will know about your operation. Try getting a consensus at your motherfucking town meeting then, you tinpot tyrant.”

The veins swelled on the sides of Big Jim’s neck; another beat in the center of his forehead. For a moment he looked on the verge of exploding. Then he smiled. “A for effort, Mr. Barbara. But you lie.”

He left. They all left. Barbie sat on his bunk, sweating. He knew how close to the edge he was. Rennie had reasons to keep him alive, but not strong ones. And then there was the note delivered by Jackie Wettington and Linda Everett. The expression on Mrs. Everett’s face suggested that she knew enough to be terrified, and not just for herself. It would have been safer for him to try and escape using the knife. Given the current level of professionalism in the Chester’s Mill PD, he thought it could be done. It would take a little luck, but it could be done.

He had, however, no way of telling them to let him try it on his own.

Barbie lay down and put his hands behind his head. One question nagged him above all others: what had happened to the copy of the VADER file meant for Julia? Because it hadn’t reached her; about that he was sure Rennie had been telling the truth.

No way of knowing, and nothing to do but wait.

Lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, Barbie began to do it.

When Linda and Jackie came back from the PD, Rusty and the girls were sitting on the front step waiting for them. The Js were still in their nighties—light cotton ones, not the flannels they were used to at this time of year. Although it was still not quite seven AM, the thermometer outside the kitchen window had the temperature at sixty-six degrees.

Ordinarily, the two girls would have flown down the walk to embrace their mother far in advance of Rusty, but this morning he beat them by several yards. He seized Linda around the waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck with almost painful tight-ness—not a hello-handsome hug, but a drowner’s grip.

“Are you all right?” he whispered in her ear.

Her hair brushed up and down against his cheek as she nodded. Then she drew back. Her eyes were shining. “I was sure Thibodeau would look in the cereal, it was Jackie’s idea to spit in it, that was genius, but I was certain —”

“Why is mommy crying?” Judy asked. She sounded ready to cry herself.

“I’m not,” she said, then wiped her eyes. “Well, maybe a little. Because I’m so happy to see your dad.”

“We’re all happy to see him!” Janelle told Jackie. “Because my Daddy, HE’S THE BOSS! ”

“News to me,” Rusty said, then kissed Linda on the mouth, hard.

“Lips-kissin!” Janelle said, fascinated. Judy covered her eyes and giggled.

“Come on, girls, swings,” Jackie said. “Then you get dressed for school.”

“I WANT TO LOOPIE DA LOOP!” Janelle screamed, leading the way.

“School?” Rusty asked. “Really?”

“Really,” Linda said. “Just the little ones, at East Street Grammar. Half a day. Wendy Goldstone and Ellen Vanedestine volunteered to take classes. K through three in one room, four through six in another. I don’t know if any actual learning will happen, but it’ll give the kids a place to go, and a sense of normalcy. Maybe.” She looked up at the sky, which was cloudless but had a yellowish tinge all the same. Like a blue eye with a cataract growing on it, she thought. “I could use some normalcy myself. Look at that sky.”

Rusty glanced up briefly, then held his wife at arm’s length so he could study her. “You got away with it? You’re sure?”

“Yes. But it was close. This kind of thing may be fun in spy movies, but in real life it’s awful. I won’t break him out, honey. Because of the girls.”

“Dictators always hold the children hostage,” Rusty said. “At some point people have to say that no longer works.”

“But not here and not yet. This is Jackie’s idea, so let her handle it. I won’t be a part of it, and I won’t let you be a part of it.” Yet he knew that if he demanded this of her, she would do as he asked; it was the expression under her expression. If that made him the boss, he didn’t want to be.

“You’re going in to work?” he asked.

“Of course. Kids go to Marta, Marta takes kids to school, Linda and Jackie report for another day of police work under the Dome. Anything else would look funny. I hate having to think this way.” She blew out a breath. “Also, I’m tired.” She glanced to make sure the kids were out of earshot. “Fucking exhausted. I hardly slept at all. Are you going in to the hospital?”

Rusty shook his head. “Ginny and Twitch are going to be on their own at least until noon… although with the new guy to help them out, I think they’ll be okay. Thurston’s kind of New Age-y, but he’s good. I’m going over to Claire McClatchey’s. I need to talk to those kids, and I need to go out to where they got the radiation spike on the Geiger counter.”

“What do I tell people who ask where you are?”

Rusty considered this. “The truth, I guess. Some of it, anyway. Say I’m investigating a possible Dome generator. That might make Rennie think twice about whatever next step he’s planning.”

“And when I’m asked about the location? Because I will be.”

“Say you don’t know, but you think it’s on the western side of town.”

“Black Ridge is north.”

“Yep. If Rennie tells Randolph to send out some of his Mounties, I want them to go to the wrong place. If someone calls you on it later, just say you were tired and must have gotten mixed up. And listen, hon—before you go in to the PD, make a list of people who may believe Barbie’s innocent of the murders.” Thinking again, Us and them. “We need to talk to those people before the town meeting tomorrow. Very discreetly.”

“Rusty, are you sure about this? Because after the fire last night, this whole town is going to be on the lookout for the Friends of Dale Barbara.”

“Am I sure? Yes. Do I like it? Most assuredly not.”

She looked up again at the yellow-tinged sky, then at the two oaks in their front yard, the leaves hanging limp and moveless, their bright colors fading to drab brown. She sighed. “If Rennie framed Barbara, then he probably had the newspaper burned down. You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“And if Jackie can get Barbara out of jail, where will she put him? Where in town is safe?”

“I’ll have to think about that.”

“If you can find the generator and turn it off, all this I Spy crap becomes unnecessary.”

“You pray that happens.”

“I will. What about radiation? I don’t want you coming down with leukemia, or something.”