Роберт Уилсон - Days Since... - Xavier - Day 853

“Not gonna listen to your bull anymore.”

Xavier just stared at him. This was expected. He needed to stay strong. Treat it as a bluff and wait for him to give up. Nothing Xavier said was incriminating. Nothing he said could be disproved by his words or any length of questioning. Haverty glared back, attempting to beat back his stare. Their eyes locked in a battle. Hang in there. Haverty smirked and folded his hands, all of his fingers interlocking, palms resting on the desk. He spoke—his accent missing—his wording exact and punctuated with accusation. “I know you read the letter. My letter. I know you did.”

Xavier’s heart dropped along with his eyelids. The heat overtook him again, suffocating him, his body unable to manage the stress, simply overheated further. His breathing ceased. A strange dizziness—his body, the pivot point to the world revolving around him. The room began to collapse—concrete and brick—all crumbling to the ground. Slivers of glass raining from the ceiling. Waves passed over his skin then ceased as the world snapped back into place.

A simple letter, not meant for Xavier, had damned him. He was finished. The revolution was over before it even started. Haverty spoke, but it didn’t register. Isolation was his best course. No talking. They would do what they wanted with him.

“Look son, I need that letter back. I can’t be havin’ that out there. Can’t have folks thinkin’ we’re the bad guys, ya know? We’re gonna do what it takes to get back on track. You ain’t gonna stop us, so… Where’s it at?”

“I really need some water. I’m not feeling so good.”

Haverty walked toward the old windows and poured some water from the pitcher. He set the glass down on the desk in front of Xavier. They looked at each other. Haverty was serious. Xavier knew it. He contemplated giving it up, letting him know where it was. But what good could it do? He reached for the glass and drank, buying time.

Grant, how could you? How could you let them know? How could you turn against me? All he had to do was keep his mouth shut. Haverty possessed no evidence of anything. Nothing at all, but Grant… Why would you? What did you have to gain by letting it go? That decision didn’t change what happened, and it quite possibly endangered him. How stupid of him to do that. It only gave the Second Alliance a reason to kill them. Xavier would never let the location of the letter be known to anyone else but Sam or Matt. No one else would ever know.

“Where’s Sam?” Nothing to lose.

“Son, I’m not foolin’ with that. Just get me my damned letter.”

“I can’t do that unless I know Sam’s okay?”

“Don’t quite know who that is or why I should be carin’.”

“What do you mean? Rupert said you had an entire conversation about him. He told me you worked out a deal with him, so he could talk to Sam when he’s better.”

“So ya did talk with Rupert?”

“I—I only…” Xavier paused, completely caught off guard. “Only briefly before I walked into town.”

“He came runnin’ to me with some sorta news. Said I’d be interested in what he wanted to say. Wasn’t much to get him to talk. Just a new job.”

A huge lump squeezed through Xavier’s throat. Rupert, that snake! It wasn’t Grant at all.

“Seems like ya had big plans, but all ya managed to do was light a match. Only managed to burn yourself. No kindlin’. Nothin’ else. Could’ve been a big fire, maybe. Sorry I’m gonna have to stomp it out.” Haverty began to pace the room, walking in and out of view as Xavier remained facing forward. “This world needs the S.A. We got more to offer than you do. Hard to get people to see beyond that. Folks want it easier, not harder. Sure we do things a bit different, but it ain’t bad. Never bad. Just depends on your taste.” Haverty rubbed his chin, continuing to pace. “It’s been a struggle puttin’ it all together. Certainly ain’t gonna let no one tear it down, especially no one from the inside. We’re gonna have to put ya away, son. Hold ya for a bit until ya come ‘round.”

Xavier struggled to contain the cries that wanted to break free. His eyes turned to glass then cracked—a single fragment trickled down his cheek. Immediately, he wiped it. No matter what he wouldn’t let his cries go. There would be no sympathy from this man. It would only let Haverty revel in this victory. Xavier’s breath fluttered for a moment, giving his back a quick jerk.

“Let it go, son.”

Xavier said nothing.

“Feelin’ sorry for yourself?”

Still nothing.

“Feelin’ like a martyr are ya?” He laughed. “You ain’t done nothin’ to be thinkin’ like that.” Haverty stopped behind him and rested his hands upon Xavier’s shoulders. His skin crawled from the touch. He tried to pull away but couldn’t. “I don’t get you, son. You could’ve had everything you wanted. Would’ve been a fine surprise for ya at the capital. But…you ain’t ever gonna know it now. Unless…”

Xavier looked up.

“That might be jumpin’ the gun. You could use some time. We’ll work on the letter later.” Haverty nodded slowly with a smirk on his face. “Yeah, I’m gonna give ya some time to think on it.” He paused. “But, what about Grant? What’s he know ‘bout that letter?”

Xavier sighed with slight relief. “He doesn’t know about the letter. I found it after I left him.”

Haverty started walking around the room again. His hands crossed, lying on his stomach. “Be honest with me, son. I’m gonna talk to him again. Already got his story before. I need to see if it changes now that he’ll see ya.”

“We were scared. That’s the only reason Grant might still lie about that.”

“Son, I don’t want no speculation. Just the truth.”

“The whole story about being attacked was made up.” The words came out faster than he had intended them to. Remember. Slow down. “Er, well, not completely. Grant was attacked. It just wasn’t like we said. There was a big argument about someone that Simon had killed. One of our people. Grant started yelling at him, and Simon lost it. He went right after Grant and wrapped him up in a chokehold. I couldn’t get him off, and… so I shot him.”

“Where’d ya get a gun? We took all them guns. Every last one from the school.”

“I didn’t have one to bring. I found it buried under some trash in a pickup. I didn’t have a choice. Simon snapped, and Grant… He was going to die. So… I shot him. Snuck right up and shot him.”

“Where’s the gun now?”

“I don’t know. I really didn’t want it, so I left it with Simon and all the rest of his things. If it’s not there, then Grant took it or someone else came along, but the stuff about the binoculars is true. I did take that.”

“The letter?”

“I took Simon’s boots. My shoes were so messed up I needed some new ones.” Xavier revealed the boots from underneath the desk, and Haverty nodded before Xavier started again, “Grant and I came up with the story we used and split up to make it more believable. I found the letter in the boot after I had left. Grant had no idea.”

“Where’s it?”

Xavier turned away from Haverty and fell silent.

“Hey!” He called out to the front office. Haverty’s assistant poked his head into the room. “Gimme a Guard.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I told you what I know about Grant,” Xavier said. “I can’t let you know about the letter. It’s my insurance policy.”

Haverty chuckled at the notion, slowly pacing the room, very clearly thinking about what was said. “Son,” he said, turning sharply toward Xavier, “I’ll have ya killed when I’m good ‘n’ ready.”

Xavier shot from his seat as Haverty jerked him up by the neck and kicked the chair out from beneath him. He was shoved forward but caught himself on the desk. His pockets were checked, turned inside out. The pocketknife slid across the oak top and landed in the chair opposite him. That was it. All he had. Haverty seemed disappointed.