Copyright © 2019 James Russell Stoakes. All rights reserved.
https://JamesStoakes.com
His plan was bold. Leon thought about the logistics. If they were caught before the event, they would be tried for terrorism. If they were caught afterward, they could be tried for terrorism and much much more. “It’s worth it,” he said out loud, startling the men that had been talking to him. He had not heard a word they said, and they were confused by his response.
Leon ignored them. “Tom,” Leon said. “I need a map of the city’s power grid. Find out where all the substations and transformers are.”
“Go change your pants, for Christ’s sake!” Leon admonished Eric. “When you’re done, come see me. We need to acquire a large amount of plastic explosives and detonators on timers. Tom and Eric again scurried from the room.”
“The rest of you get over here,” Leon ordered. “We need uniforms and lift trucks painted to look like the local power company vehicles. We have two weeks to get everything in place and pray no one notices before we show our hand or we are toast.”
Jared was sure this experiment would answer his questions about the nature of evil. Millions of people in Boston would be subjected to extreme misery in close quarters. Without power, the city would be immobilized. Looting the first night would quickly become the norm. He grinned uncontrollably at the thought.
He knew clean water would rapidly become scarce, and food supplies would vanish. The people of Boston would be at the mercy of the Government for both. He hoped it would create the opportunity that many needed to make the transition to evil. In a state of chaos, he would not have to be so subtle about his kills, and he could speed things up a bit in the new, target-rich environment he created.
Even as Jarred and his demon squad prepared for the outage, they could see the Gators in lift trucks, all over town. Jarred explained to Jenny and the others as they stacked water and other provisions in the basement, “I want everyone else to be in misery, not us.” He pointed toward the crew up on the roof, mounting a solar array. “That will keep us comfortable enough,” he said. “Hopefully, it doesn’t draw too much attention.” Jarred examined the panel and the very large rack of batteries they had installed. “Supposedly, on a full charge, this is enough energy to supply us for a week of normal usage. With the array and enough sun, it could go for months,” he bragged to Jenny. “With any luck, we will need them that long.”
The semi was backing into place. Leon met the driver at the loading dock.
“What are you going to do with all these generators?” the driver asked.
“Hopefully, sell them,” Leon responded. “Winter’s coming,” he obfuscated.
“Never seen someone stock up for winter in June before,” the driver said as he opened the doors. “A thousand generators,” he said, shaking his head. “This is the last two fifty of them,” he announced.
Leon smiled. “Well, I got them at the right price,” he said. “Chaos better be right about this,” he thought to himself. He was spreading his capital thin with all these acquisitions. Leon moved out of the way as the fork truck began unloading and stacking this load with the others. Several forty-foot trailers full of bottled water were parked outside in the secured area along with just about anything else you might need and would be willing to pay for, in an extended emergency.
Everything was in place as far as he could tell. The uniforms his men had worn were being burned. The trucks were being stripped and repainted at one of their facilities in Connecticut. He didn’t want anything pointing to them when the shit hit the fan.
He hoped to double his investments on these items, but the real money was in the second half of Mr. Chaos’s plan.
Monday evening arrived. Jarred and his crew was ready for the show to begin and enjoying libations and grilling beef on the roof. The new solar array, on a raised superstructure above the flat section of the roof, was a nice edition as it kept the sun off of them but still allowed them to see around them and get plenty of air.
Jarred heard the Park Street Church clock begin to chime, with his vodka in hand, he walked to the edge of the roof and looked south. The three women joined him and leaned over and rested their forearms on the rail.
The evening rush was reaching its climax as the first explosion was heard at 5:00 sharp. They couldn’t see the explosion, but they saw the smoke. Ten seconds later, there was another, and another, and another. Every ten seconds, another explosion happened. They watched the plumes of smoke appear across the cityscape. They got farther away for a while and then closer and closer.
Between the explosions and the vodka, Jarred was getting excited. He moved back, dropped his shorts, and positioned himself behind Wendy. He lifted her skirt.
“Lucky!” Jenny said, looking over her shoulder and poking Wendy’s arm.
Jarred pushed forward and used her body to abate his lust, and the demon vigorously reciprocated and relished the physical stimulation.
Tina was getting envious, “Save some for us!” she yelled. An explosion rocked their block; it was exactly what Jarred needed to finish with his own explosion. The next explosion was farther away.
“Damn it!” Jenny said with a grin. “You were too much for him.”
“Her, and the environment,” Jarred proclaimed loudly, swinging freely in the air. “This is the way to live life!”
Between explosions, sirens could be heard. People were yelling and screaming on the street in confusion. The explosions continued.
“It will be dark soon,” Jarred announced, “and the city will begin to tear itself apart shortly thereafter.”
He walked to the table they had set up and poured himself another drink. “Tonight, we hunt for evil and kill what we can. The environment is set. Let us see if it pushes some aura’s around.” He grinned evilly at the three women staring at him lustfully. “You know, you can’t keep a good man down,” he proclaimed and took a deep chug on his drink. “We have time before the hunt, who wants to join me downstairs?”
The three demon-possessed women raced each other for the door. “Don’t kill each other,” Jarred yelled. “Not again anyway.” He laughed a bit drunkenly at his own joke. He threw his empty glass at someone on the sidewalk below, eliciting a scream from the victim, and slowly followed them down the stairs. His spirit was already rising.
Officer Walsh had seen the Crocs around town. He had ignored whatever they were doing, but he couldn’t help wonder about it. It wasn’t until after the power had gone out that he realized what he had seen. He had been on duty when the explosions started, and he was still on duty when they ended two hours later. The constant and almost rhythmic, discordance of the explosions was mind-numbing.
He clocked out early, not completing his shift, and attempted to go home. Traffic was gridlocked between the power being out, and fallen telephone poles, and wires that were strewn across the streets. Walsh had to walk the distance to his home near the Chinatown Gate.
It was an hour past dark by the time he neared, and the city was already beginning to show some disorder. His uniform seemed to dissuade from bothering him, but he wondered how long until the uniform became detrimental to his survival. He walked faster to make it home to wife Camila and David, his son. Once in his apartment building, he quickly navigated the narrow dark stairs and approached his apartment. He inserted the key and opened the door and walked in. He quickly relocked it. His son was crying softly into his mother’s shoulder when he walked into the candlelit room.
“Daddy!” the boy yelled and propelled himself to his father. Walsh was very glad to see the two of them safe.
“What’s all this crying for, little man?” he asked David.
“It’s nothing,” the boy lied. “Did you hear all the explosions?” he asked.
“I did,” Walsh answered him. “I was even near some of them, they made my ears ring!”
“Really?” the boy said with wide eyes. “What caused them?”
“We’re not sure,” he said. “Get ready for bed, I’ll be in to read to you after I talk with your mother.”
“Okay, Dad,” he said. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too, buddy,” Walsh answered, “Me too.” David left the room, presumably to brush his teeth.
“You’re early,” Camila said as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss. “He was worried about you. I was too.”
“I had to know you two were okay,” he said. “I’m probably in trouble with the shift-Seargent, but I would do anything to make sure you two are safe.” Camila smiled, and they walked together to put David to bed.