Dunston Falls (21 page)

Peck nodded to Reese with the revolver. “Get it and only it.”

Reese moved to an ice-filled cooler against the wall, removed a bottle of water, and brought it to McCoy.

“There’s a towel in the bathroom. Okay if I get it?” Reese said.

“No.” Peck aimed the revolver at McCoy. “You get it.”

McCoy backed away to the bathroom where he found a towel on a rack.

Peck looked at Reese. “Your feet stuck?”

Reese stepped backward and returned to the wall. McCoy brought the towel to the sofa, poured water on it and wiped blood from Kranston’s face.

“He’s going to need stitches,” McCoy said.

“Later,” Peck said. “Now Ed, explain to me how a homicide investigation turns into the CIA hunting the sheriff?”

“Not hunting, looking for,” Kranston said.

“Explain to me the difference.” Peck looked past McCoy at a coffee pot that rested on the woodstove. “Is it hot?”

McCoy shrugged and looked at Reese.

“Yes,” Reese said.

Peck motioned to McCoy. “Pour me a cup.”

McCoy picked up a mug from the table, walked to the woodstove to fill it with coffee and brought it to Peck. “Back to the wall, Tom,” Peck said.

McCoy returned to his spot next to Reese.

Peck took a sip from the mug and sighed with great satisfaction at the taste of the hot coffee. “Now Ed, when I was hiding from the men who aren’t chasing me, I came across an old cabin in the woods. It’s been abandoned for a long time. Do you know what I found there?”

“No.”

“Something very interesting,” Peck said. A bunch of old newspapers. Most were yellow with age and fell apart when I picked them up. I used them to start a fire until one caught my eye. Know what it said?”

“Newspapers, for God’s sake. Is there a point to this?” Reese demanded.

“You know Reese, Ed’s face can’t take much more abuse,” Peck said.

“Reese, will you just shut the fuck up,” McCoy shouted to Reese.

“We all seem to be a bit jumpy,” Peck said and set the coffee mug aside and used his left hand to reach into a jacket pocket for a folded sheet of newspaper. He tossed it to Kranston. “Read it.”

Kranston unfolded the paper and scanned the headline.

“What does it say?” Peck said.

“Bush wins a second term,” Kranston said.

“What month?”

“November.”

“What year?”

“2004.”

Peck picked up the mug and took a sip. “Now I ask you, Ed. How is it possible for this Bush to win an election forty-five years from now? Answer me that, Ed. Huh.”

Against the wall, Reese suddenly moved his left leg.

“Nobody said you could move,” Peck said.

“I have a cramp,” Reese explained.

“Move again, you’ll have a bullet.”

“Do as he says,” Kranston said. “I have everything under control.”

“You do, huh?” Peck said. “Then how about you give me some answers.”

“It will take a while,” Kranston said. “Why don’t you sit down? Keep the gun if you like.”

“I wasn’t planning on giving it up.”

“At least get comfortable.”

“Quit stalling,” Peck shouted. He waved the revolver in Kranston’s face.

“Alright, Dave, alright,” Kranston said. “Just stay calm. Please.”

Peck pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, looking at Kranston. “I’m calm and I’m listening. Start talking.”

“My name really is Edward Kranston. I work for the Department of Defense.”

“The DoD?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you do for the Department of Defense, Ed?”

“I’m a psychiatrist.”

“You mean a shrink?”

“I specialize in schizophrenia. Know what that is?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“It’s a disorder where the victim has multiple personalities.”

“You mean crazy,” Peck said. “Am I crazy, Ed? Is that what you’re saying?”“No, you’re not crazy, Dave,” Kranston said. “However, you are seriously damaged.”

“What’s that mean, seriously damaged?”

Kranston used the wet towel to wipe blood, which began to drip from his nose again. “In private practice, I attracted the attention of the government when I was able to completely cure the personality of a schizophrenia patient.”

“None of that bullshit explains any of this,” Peck said.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Reese moved his left leg again and Peck turned and shot him in the knee. Everybody inside the room except Peck jumped. The sound of the gunshot, amplified inside the cabin was near deafening. Screaming, Reese fell to the floor and held his bloody, left kneecap.

“You shot him,” Kranston said.

“He moved,” Peck said.

“If I move, will you shoot me, to?” McCoy said.

Peck shook his head and McCoy knelt to Reese. “Oh this is just great,” McCoy said. “I’ll need to carry him…”

“No,” Peck shouted. “He stays where he is. Stop the bleeding, but he stays on the floor.” Peck looked at Kranston. “You were saying?”

Unshaken by the shooting, Kranston set the bloody towel aside. “I was asked by the government…no, make that recruited by the government to work on a secret program they were developing. Are you familiar with the term mind control, Dave?”

“Brainwashing,” Peck said.

“It’s far more complicated than that, I’m afraid.” Kranston’s tone seemed to gain strength as he spoke. “The Chinese first experimented with it after the Korean War.”

“Chinese? What the fuck are you talking about, the Chinese? What does any of that have to do with me or Deb or whatever the hell her name is?” Peck said.

“All of it,” Kranston said.

Still kneeling over Reese, McCoy looked at Peck. “The bullet needs to come out.”

Peck smiled at Kranston. “My give a damn is broken,” he said, repeating Kranston’s phrase.

“He’ll bleed to death,” McCoy insisted.

“Take it out then, just don’t move him off the floor,” Peck said.

“There’s an extra sofa,” Kranston said. “What harm would it do to move him?”

“I can’t watch three places with only two eyes,” Peck said. “Now go on with with your story.”

Kranston sighed to himself. “The wars never seem to end. Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Iran and back to Korea again. After the Muslim uprising in Russia, the world community knew we were on the path to global annihilation as a race. Something had to be done before half the world nuked the other half.”

“You’re talking, but you’re not saying anything that explains anything to do with what’s going on around here, Ed,” Peck said. “You’re a true politician.”

“We develop bigger and better weapons, but we can’t exactly nuke the entire world,” Kranston said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Agree?” Peck laughed softly to himself. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about final and everlasting peace, Dave. No more Vietnams, Iran’s or Russian incidents to worry about. Millions and millions of people who died for their causes would now live for them instead.”

Suddenly sweating, Peck wiped his face on his shirtsleeve. “There have been no such wars. Except for Korea, I’ve heard of no such wars.”

“Imagine for a moment the possibility of taking a brutal dictator and giving him a personality makeover,” Kranston said. “He does a one eighty and we don’t have to invade his shitty, little sand box of a country to free a population which hates us anyway and doesn’t want us there to begin with. A lot of American boys are spared and everybody is happy on the home front.”

With his left hand, Peck reached for a spot between his eyes and rubbed it.

“Peace would ensure without a shot being fired,” Kranston said. “America becomes a true peace keeper and the idea of democracy finally is an obtainable goal.”

“Even if I knew what you were babbling about, none of that is possible,” Peck said. The pressure between his eyes grew slightly.

“But it is possible, Dave,” Kranston said. “And completely within our grasp.”

Peck had to squint through the sweat running down his forehead to look at Kranston.

“Combine the right drugs with the correct methods and create the ultimate weapon of mass destruction, a make over for the human mind,” Kranston said.

“What does any of that have to do with me?” Peck said. “Or Bender and Reese and the woman.”

“You are part of a five year plan, David,” Kranston explained. “And part of a great experiment which could end all the hatred and lead to global peace. However, you were a broken man in need of a great deal of fixing.”

Peck’s breathing grew labored as the pain between his eyes intensified.

“The government gave me unlimited funding to build this secret military base and stock it with men and women of my choosing.”

“Military base?”

“Yes. That’s what this entire town and surrounding land is, Dave,” Kranston said. “One, big military base. Top secret, of course.”

“That’s why the fence?”

“Yes.”

“And the Army running around?”

“Yes.”

“You said.” Peck paused to wipe sweat from his face and massage his forehead. “Stock it with men and women like Noah’s fucking arc. What men, what women?”

“Those who suffered breakdowns,” Kranston said. “Some mild, some complete. They came from all lifestyles and occupations. Like yourself.”

The revolver in Peck’s hand felt heavy and he lowered it to his side. He squinted through the sweat and pain at Kranston. “Myself?”

“A shut in, a woman who hadn’t spoken a word in ten years. A serial killer who…”

“Serial killer? You know who murdered Deb and the others?”

“Sadly, yes,” Kranston admitted.

“And you allowed it to happen?”

“Not allowed, David. Observed. It’s all part of the greater plan.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Peck said.

“Am I?” Kranston said. “Two hundred of the three hundred people on this base are patients. I gave them a new life and a new personality, but you are the prize, David. I didn’t plan on the storm or the man responsible for the murders regressing, but once it happened, it was the perfect opportunity to see how well you performed under maximum stress.”

Peck backed up as the revolver fell to the floor. “Shut up,” Peck screamed. “Just shut up.”

“I chose January for the isolation and set the wheels in motion,” Kranston said. “I made it appear 1959 for the simplicity and ease of that era. The night of the ice storm was your first night out of the lab.” Kranston’s voice quivered with excitement as he spoke and his eyes seemed to come alive. “From that moment when you opened your eyes in what you believed was your bed, all that you knew and remembered is what I put there. The way you slipped into your new life with such ease proves my theory and research to be the way to finally win the peace the world deserves. It’s a great day in history, David.”

“Bullshit. This place is nothing but a giant lab for you to test your rats in,” Peck said.

“That’s a simple, but accurate description.”

Peck gasped for air as his chest suddenly felt heavy. The pain in his head spread to his skull and it was difficult to see and focus.

“Who was…Deb…I mean Julie?”

“A research scientist attached to the project. She volunteered to test you under…sexual pressure. That was my idea. An experiment to see your reaction with the added burden of female…company.”

“Sexual…and you let her die? Was that part of your great plan, too?”

“It was an unfortunate incident,” Kranston said. “It was unforeseen and tragic.”

“And me? Who am I?” Peck sobbed.

“You know who you are, David,” Kranston said. “It’s locked deep within you, but it’s still there.” Kranston paused to tap his skull with a finger. “Do you want to let it out?”

“Yes.”

“It will be painful.”

Peck felt weak in the knees and slowly slumped to the floor. “Painful? You should see what’s inside my head right now.”

“I know what’s in your head, David. I put it there. All those memories and feelings of your past are nothing more than what I programmed you to believe was real. They are not. The real life you knew is locked away deep inside you. Buried.”

From his knees, Peck looked at Kranston.

“Want to see it?” Kranston said.

Peck nodded his head. “Yes.”

“Your real name is John David Peck and ten years ago you suffered a complete mental breakdown after the death of your son,” Kranston said. “If you allow them to reemerge, the memories will come.”

Peck sat on his heels and closed his eyes. He felt hot, as if his brain were on fire. In the darkness behind his eyes, something struggled to get out. That something terrified him. He pitched forward and caught himself of the palms of his hands and then that something began to emerge in the form of memory.

Captain David Peck was in his office at the fire station when the five-alarm call rang out. He dropped the labor reports he was working on and rushed to his gear. Even with all of today’s modern equipment and technology, there was nothing to compare to the rush he felt at the sound of the bell.

Peck rode in his car ahead of the trucks. His lieutenant, a man named Brooks drove. Peck studied the global positioning unit mounted on the dashboard.

“It’s that abandoned tenement building on the fourteen hundred block, near your neighborhood,” Brooks said.

Peck knew the building. Scheduled for demolition next month, maybe the fire would do the job instead. From his laptop, Peck ran a check on the fifty-year-old building. Erected during the late sixties, it was a wood and brick structure, built without the fire retardant materials and wiring of today. It would burn long, hot, and barbecue everything in its interior.

Brooks glanced at Peck. “There’s a report kids were playing in the building.”

Peck felt an immediate panic in his chest. He had told his eleven-year-old son to stay out of that building a hundred times, but he and his friends always snuck back to play in the abandoned halls and search for discarded treasure.

Peck looked at Brooks. “Are we going the whole way in second gear? Step on it.”

“The fire was quite an event, the biggest one of the year,” Kranston said. “When I found you, I did a records search and created a scrapbook for research purposes. What a mess you were.”

Ahead of the hook and ladder trucks, Peck and Brooks arrived at the burning tenement building.