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Chapter 18: Attempt One

Harry placed his feet upon the desk at the Green Mile; with the morning newspaper clutched between his fingers. It was a week past Sandra's death, and what a roller coaster ride the lot endured; especially Brutus. Just like himself, Brutus was given the week off to recollect his thoughts and actions. Harry thought about that dreadful night, and what he'd mentioned to Brutus minutes before Sandra's demise. If he hadn't done such a thing, would Sandra still be alive? Harry did not concern himself too much with the incident; instead, Harry decided to focus back onto the fine lined newspaper and flip the many pages inside. He stood attentive on the major issue at the time; which was the poisonings in the Casaloma theatre. It turned out that both Paul and Harry's suspicions were true. Several scientists tested the waters in the city, and the river overnight, and concluded that in fact, the river and the reservoir was contaminated with one of the deadliest poisons in the world; that only a true chemist could compose. And what drove those scientists to observe the water outside of the city? Almost thirty-seven innocent people died beside Sandra, along with several others during mid-morning. Luckily, Harry obtained a secure supply of fresh water that was safe to drink, and bathe in. To Harry, knowing that his family and friends were safe and sound, was the biggest drink of water in the longest drought of his life.

Just then, Paul strode through the door, quiet as a mouse, and placed his possessions along the main desk. Harry dare not smile at the distressed man.

Paul said:

"Harry, how much do you want to bet that someone we personally know was involved in this scheme?"

Harry rested his hand against his cheek, "I asked myself that same question this morning."

Paul set his gaze on the older gentleman, and said with excitement, "I think it was Freddie, our Freddie. I don't know how he did it, but he did."

"Now, now, let's not jump to conclusions." Harry stood up, and spread his palms. "They said that he was lost in the countryside."

"Admit it, the police failed their job." Paul said cold heartedly. "The probability of Freddie residing in the city, hidden amongst the shadows, is higher than him escaping the State. He doesn't like me what-so-ever, or the rest of the town. I expected something like this to occur."

"It's to pleasure that sick man, isn't it?" Harry asked with sheer force.

Paul answered without hesitation, "Yes." There was a brief pause. "That was a nice funeral they had for that young lady. I met her for only a few hours, and she died in minutes. I'll tell you, that I've appreciated life a lot more this year than any other year in my lifetime. I hate to bring up those events, but the night you attempted to commit suicide, gave me a different perspective on life; and how much I take for granted, and what you take for granted. I wouldn't know what to do if I'd lost you. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost Brutal, or Dean, and Jan most of all. I would crumble into pieces. You are all a part of me; you are all a piece of my puzzle. And if one of those pieces it lost, I'll soon be too."

Harry decided to look at the many strewn papers along the desk. "The new prisoners are sleeping at the moment; seduced really. We have colourful and charismatic characters this time around. Appreciate that while you are at it." Harry handed Paul the profiles of the two men, hidden inside the cells. He wondered why it was so quiet inside of the mile, but after glancing at the prisoner's profiles, he knew that it wouldn't be for long.

Paul puckered his lips, "Well, no matter who it was, I'll make sure he gets fried; and within hours too. Forty-three people is forty-three people too many. If I suspect foul play from here on, I'll hunt this man down personally, and shoot him point blank."

Harry drew a breath, and was surprised to hear such a thing come from the lips of his supervisor. "That's heavy Paul."

"I know," Paul concluded before snatching his belongings and leaving the scene. Once Paul was inside the office, and the door was slammed shut, Harry sat back down, and continued to read the depressing paper. After Paul's words, he couldn't help, but wonder what the new future would bring.


Dean sat in a lone park within the city. He watched the many kids, continuing with life after the sudden tragedies from the night before. Dean was jealous, for sometimes he wished that he could be an innocent child once again, and be shadowed from the cruel ideals of the world itself. After such occurrences, he could wake up the next morning, not remembering, or understanding the situation developing around him. He had children of his own, and he was afraid, afraid for him, afraid for his children. But it was a real shame that they couldn't understand why their father was so protective over these last few days. If only they knew…

Dean continued to examine the park surrounding him. His hands were folded, and he took several deep breaths. He looked at the ticking watch upon his wrist, and realized that he had to work in a little over three hours. His wife was probably worried sick about Dean, wondering why he was taking so long to buy a jug of milk and butter from the petty town.

Dean brought his revolver today; it was concealed. Paul told the group to bear arms, but none seemed to listen, except Dean. He was paranoid before, but now he didn't trust a single person in the slightest, excluding his close friends. After hearing the morning news reports over the radio, he refused to touch the liquids, and urged his own family not to.

Unable to sit still, Dean wandered down the stony path throughout the vast trees and bushes; it was quite crowded. Though if anything absurd happened, the deed could slip unnoticed; pocket thieves in particular. Dean continued to creep down the many paths of the park, attempting to find his sole parked car in the corner.

After minutes of searching, Dean thought it was a good idea to cross the road. And so Dean did so.

All was calm at first, until he could hear the acceleration of a brute car beside him. At the last waking moment, Dean managed to dodge the large piece of steel, intentionally heading towards him at 80 miles an hour. Dean fell backwards whilst doing so, and the car soon halted to a stop. Suddenly, Dean could see all tires spinning in the opposite direction. Several questions entered Dean's mind as the car was yet again, aimed at his body: Who did I piss off in the last ten years? Who has a Vendetta against me?

This time, Dean was able to receive a head start. He peered over his shoulder a few times in order to see the vehicle's location. Again, its sights were set on him. It was miraculous that the audience around him did not seem disturbed by the scenario playing out in front of them. As a matter of fact, their actions of nothing were quite disgusting.

It wasn't long before the car stopped, and turned around; driving out into the distance, disappearing from sight. When the coast was clear, Dean slouched over, heaving, and attempting to catch his breath from the quick chase. Then, Dean was surprised to see the same car drive past one last time, surely but slowly; as if everything around him was moving in slow motion. Dean tried to get a glimpse of the obvious man inside the mode of transportation. It was odd; for he couldn't help, but wonder why the individual's face was so familiar.

Chapter 19 coming soon...