William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

He lifted his arm and I could see that he was going to shoot again, going to shoot to kill this time, from a distance so short he couldn’t possibly miss.

I’m sorry, Rachel, I thought. I failed you. Just as I’ve always failed you.

“ Susan! Duck! ”

I recognized O’Bannon’s voice, but even if I hadn’t I would’ve obeyed. A bullet whizzed over my head and struck near Edgar-but not near enough. Edgar gritted his teeth, shifted his aim and fired, not once but three times. I heard a grunt that told me one of the slugs had made contact, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor.

“Nooo!” I screamed. I rushed forward while Edgar’s attention was focused on his new victim, tackling him under his gun arm. He fell back against the façade. The gun went flying. In this darkness, there was no way of knowing where it had gone. I punched Edgar again and again and again and he didn’t resist. I didn’t give him a chance. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to beat him senseless.

When I was sure he wasn’t going to get up again, I ran to the chief.

The bullet had caught him in the lower stomach, below his vest. It didn’t look as if it would be fatal if he got help in time. But I knew that stomach wounds were the most painful an officer could suffer.

He was shaking, too stricken to speak. I told him not to try, then called for immediate medical assistance. I assumed the ambulances were already converging, given the conflagration outside. I gave them O’Bannon’s location.

“You’re going to be okay,” I told him, and hoped he believed it. “Just stay put. Don’t try to move.”

I wanted to remain with him, but I couldn’t. Rachel was still up there, and the other girls. Every additional second they spent upside down in those things could be fatal.

I realized Edgar must’ve used the scaffolding to get the bodies up into those bells. So I would do the same to get them down.

By the time I ran through the cathedral door again, the ballroom was perhaps half empty, which was a damn good thing, because the flames were spreading fast. At least a third of the room was already ablaze. The air was thick with dense black smoke. Everyone was coughing and choking, black stains under their noses and mouths. I was finding it hard to breathe myself. But I put that out of my head. I had to get to Rachel.

The scaffolding levels were maybe seven feet apart. Edgar had no doubt used a ladder, but he hadn’t left that behind for me, so I just vaulted it. Up on the first level, I found round steel pylons, buckets of mortar, tools, signs of a barely completed construction process. I leaped up, grabbing the edge of the next level, my bullet-creased arm aching, and swung myself around. On the next riser, I was level with the bells.

Up close, I saw that Rachel was tied tightly across her entire body, ensuring that she couldn’t move or escape. But the other three girls were only bound at the feet, just enough to keep them on the clappers. Why hadn’t they escaped? Was it possible they’d let Abbott put them up there?

Rachel’s eyes were open, but I couldn’t gauge how conscious she was, hanging upside down for so long, her head thumping against the bell, that incredible noise shattering her eardrums. The side of her head closest to me was bleeding-not a good sign.

“Rachel!” I shouted. No reaction of any kind.

There was a narrow catwalk on the front of the cathedral, probably to give the workmen access to the bell chambers. With a cautious, tentative step, I edged off the riser onto the catwalk. From there, I was able to reach out and grab the edge of the bell.

It fought me. Nearly knocked me off the cathedral. I wobbled and teetered, noticing for the first time just how damn high up I was. But I held on to that damn bell.

It stopped. No more swinging. Rachel hung motionless in the center.

“Rachel!” Still no response.

I didn’t know whether I should untie Rachel first or stop the swinging of the other girls’ bells. And while I was deciding, the cathedral suddenly shot out from under my feet and I tumbled down into the smoky abyss.

Correction: my feet were knocked off the platform. By Edgar.

Somehow I managed to grab the edge of one of the risers and swing myself onto the second level. Edgar jumped down on the other side.

His face was bruised, bloodied. He was wheezing with each breath, coughing. And he had my gun.

“You’ve ruined everything.” His voice was harsh and gravelly from the smoke, and perhaps my beating. “My ascension. Virginia’s return. Dream-Land.”

“You need help,” I managed. “I told you that before.”

He held out his hand. “Give me the detonator.”

“So you can set off the other eight bombs? And kill even more people?”

“It’s for the greater good.”

While we talked I mentally measured the distance to the next riser, the chances of me making it before he could shoot. Where were the cops, the firemen? They were bound to appear soon. If I could just stall, just keep him talking…

“You’re starting to sound like me,” I said.

“I’m nothing like you, Susan.”

“You are. You’re rationalizing. Trying to justify the horrible things you do.”

“I’m trying to give us a new world. A better world! One that isn’t so… hard. You of all people should appreciate the value of that.”

“You have a good heart,” I said, and I truly believed it. “Maybe we all do. But it went wrong somehow. You haven’t done anything wonderful. You’ve killed innocent people.”

“No!” He fired. It missed me, but not by so much that I didn’t feel my heart skip several beats. “I’ve studied the prophet’s words. I was given the secret.”

Down below, the flames were everywhere. I knew it would not be long before the entire room, infrastructure and all, came crashing down. Where was my backup?

“Give it up, Abbott. Let me get you some help.”

He inched forward. “I want the detonator! Now!”

“Not gonna happen. Not now. Not ever. No matter what you do.”

He rushed me. I was caught off guard by the sudden change, not to mention the fact that I was on the edge of a riser some fourteen feet off the floor. I wrapped myself around his body and wrestled him down. He couldn’t get me in his sights, so he clubbed me over the head with the gun butt. That hurt. I fought to block out the pain, keep myself conscious.

He seemed possessed, as if one of Poe’s worst monsters had taken over his body. He kicked me repeatedly. I pushed up to my hands and knees and he kicked me again, flattening me. I felt something in my chest snap.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, spitting blood. He kicked me in the mouth, loosening a tooth. “Like Poe said in Eureka, we’re free spirits. We can chart our own destiny.”

“In Dream-Land.”

“No. That’s where you got it wrong. He was talking about finding your own Dream-Land. He was talking about making this world a Dream-Land.”

“Liar. False prophet.”

I hauled myself up, hoping to make one final run at him, but he saw me coming. With both hands, he grabbed me by the neck and flung me backward. Off the riser. Into the flames.

I woke up and there were noises everywhere there were noises everywhere and they were so loud and it was just like the inside of my head except it was outside and the room was on fire everything was on fire and I don’t like fire I’m afraid of fire. Everyone was running and fighting to get out and I was going to get out too except I heard my dad calling and he sounded just like he did that time when he told me my mommy was dead and I wouldn’t get to see my mommy anymore. I ran to him and I saw him and he was hurt and he had red all over him. He was crawling and barely pulling himself along and his gun was in his hand and I don’t like guns I don’t like them at all but he was too weak to lift it up. I shouted for someone to help but no one was listening until someone told me he’d talked to the hospital and ambulances were coming and I tried to get my dad out of there before the entire room burned down and there was a scream! There was a scream I knew it was a scream and I knew who it was even before I saw her it was Susan and she was falling falling and she fell so far please God don’t let her be dead please don’t please don’t please don’t please don’t let the Bad Man take away our babies. Susan is my friend doesn’t he know Susan is my friend just like Brian in the fifth grade was my friend until they took him away to another school but Susan is still my friend and I want her to stay to be my friend. Please don’t hurt her. People should not hurt each other! People should not hurt each other!