"c262" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burt Andrew - Noontide Night)

6:53 A.M., Friday, February 25, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

It was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that Desiree saw police cars pulling up. The first time was yesterday at the landlords', after she'd run to various neighbors and pounded on doors. In reflection, she'd had no need of hurried panic, since the man was clearly long dead. The neighbors had almost called the cops on her for all her banging on their doors and yelling about a shooting, but she'd finally found an elderly woman who was hard of hearing. She probably assumed Desiree knew her and knew she had to shout. The look of consternation only overtook her face well after Desiree was inside and searching for her phone. "Your dog wants a bone? Your eyes don't look bloodshot..." She'd sat down very quietly on her divan, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at Desiree like an escaped lunatic when she finally understood "someone's been shot." The police had beaten in the door with a small ram, concluded he was dead, taken her name, and carted the body away in an ambulance. They'd seemed so cold about it; as if Y2K suicides were nothing. Nature's red tooth and claw lurked in the hearts of every man, she thought. Better him than me, one of the cops had joked. Dear Jeremy, perhaps your world will be stronger for this; but what a price to pay. Now, as she was getting off Matty's shift, she saw police cruisers pull up for the second time. They blocked the entry road. Were they looking for her? No, of course not. Silly. They didn't even know she was here. But, then, what were they doing? How could Matty drive up here to meet her? Why were they blocking the road? A large police van pulled up. More cars. More vans. The police, mixed with some army, began unpiling wooden barricades, which they placed across the lawn until it was crossed with a continuous fence. She saw Matty's car drive up to the roadblock. Matty got out and approached the police. From her window, Desiree could see Matty gesturing wildly. Hands on hips. Throwing hands up. Waving them about. Pointing. Desiree realized she'd best go to the door and get her exit-frisking over with so she could meet Matty. But something held her back, something about Matty's body language. Matty appeared to break off the conversation suddenly, and began walking briskly toward the building. A policeman darted after her and grabbed her arm. He pulled her back in what was an obviously threatening manner. They weren't allowing anyone to enter the building. Desiree paused. If she left now, it was clear she wouldn't be returning. Now that the power had been restored to the citizenry, the police had arrived for their long-threatened push to end the siege. She debated. She could tell the police what she knew about the Strong's leadership getting sick. That might help them plan their attack, and spare innocent lives. Well, some of what she knew. She'd never confess that she'd done anything. But the police would be overprotective. They'd never let her back in. She'd be cut off from Jeremy. She couldn't take him with her, not needing the ventilator to breathe. She slumped down against the wall. God, what to do! Could she live with herself either way?

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Chapter 26.2

6:53 A.M., Friday, February 25, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

It was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that Desiree saw police cars pulling up. The first time was yesterday at the landlords', after she'd run to various neighbors and pounded on doors. In reflection, she'd had no need of hurried panic, since the man was clearly long dead. The neighbors had almost called the cops on her for all her banging on their doors and yelling about a shooting, but she'd finally found an elderly woman who was hard of hearing. She probably assumed Desiree knew her and knew she had to shout. The look of consternation only overtook her face well after Desiree was inside and searching for her phone. "Your dog wants a bone? Your eyes don't look bloodshot..." She'd sat down very quietly on her divan, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at Desiree like an escaped lunatic when she finally understood "someone's been shot." The police had beaten in the door with a small ram, concluded he was dead, taken her name, and carted the body away in an ambulance. They'd seemed so cold about it; as if Y2K suicides were nothing. Nature's red tooth and claw lurked in the hearts of every man, she thought. Better him than me, one of the cops had joked. Dear Jeremy, perhaps your world will be stronger for this; but what a price to pay. Now, as she was getting off Matty's shift, she saw police cruisers pull up for the second time. They blocked the entry road. Were they looking for her? No, of course not. Silly. They didn't even know she was here. But, then, what were they doing? How could Matty drive up here to meet her? Why were they blocking the road? A large police van pulled up. More cars. More vans. The police, mixed with some army, began unpiling wooden barricades, which they placed across the lawn until it was crossed with a continuous fence. She saw Matty's car drive up to the roadblock. Matty got out and approached the police. From her window, Desiree could see Matty gesturing wildly. Hands on hips. Throwing hands up. Waving them about. Pointing. Desiree realized she'd best go to the door and get her exit-frisking over with so she could meet Matty. But something held her back, something about Matty's body language. Matty appeared to break off the conversation suddenly, and began walking briskly toward the building. A policeman darted after her and grabbed her arm. He pulled her back in what was an obviously threatening manner. They weren't allowing anyone to enter the building. Desiree paused. If she left now, it was clear she wouldn't be returning. Now that the power had been restored to the citizenry, the police had arrived for their long-threatened push to end the siege. She debated. She could tell the police what she knew about the Strong's leadership getting sick. That might help them plan their attack, and spare innocent lives. Well, some of what she knew. She'd never confess that she'd done anything. But the police would be overprotective. They'd never let her back in. She'd be cut off from Jeremy. She couldn't take him with her, not needing the ventilator to breathe. She slumped down against the wall. God, what to do! Could she live with herself either way?


back | next home