seymoure

Q & A

“There are four questions of value in life... What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”

-Johnny Depp

He took a beat to let that sink in.

He sat back in his seat.

“I was diagnosed terminal two years ago. I have less than a year in the optimum scenario. This…” he regarded the building, meaning the plan, “is the final point in that journey.”

“So, everybody has to go with you?” I added.

“If you knew what my church is, you wouldn’t say that.”

“Explain it to me.”

“We believe that we are near the end times, and it is humanity’s fault. We are the ultimate ecologists. Pollution, over-population, greed, war - - these are all the ingredients to the destruction of this beautiful world. We began to preach the doctrine of saving the world for the children. We brought in a lot of money, became a ‘cause celebre’ in the cocktail party circuit.

“We also brought in a lot of broken people who blamed the world for failing them. We drew every criminal who found faith, we drew every ex-military who wanted to save the world in a new way besides war. We brought in every soul we would need to take down a small government.

“Then, in the midst of helping so many, but doing so very slowly, that I found I had maybe three years to live. Three years to save the world. So I developed, almost overnight, an ingenious way to cut to the endgame.

“The biggest thing standing in our way was the Politicians of the world, the Armies of the world, the masses who didn’t understand or believe. So we would have to clear the playing field.

“So, with some brilliant scientist among our numbers we found a way to capsulize a virus. Body heat would release the death in the body. We became the delivery system instead of the mosquitoes. Now, how to get the disease into the body? It would have to be a mass burst, before anyone could figure out they were getting sick.

“A saved con man named Stanton came up with the idea of selling the public on the new ‘in’ thing. Bottled water! Since we are increasingly and justifiably worried about the source of our drinking water, why not make the newest source of safety the place we put the killer virus. We just had to produce it and then sell it.

“We would produce it and buy off the inspectors; who’s going to check spring water that closely, anyway?”

“Then people started asking questions?” I plied.

“First it was that insurance salesman, Barton. He was checking about someone who had an accident in our factory. He just asked too many questions. We came to the conclusion that he was at risk of stumbling over the truth. Then we found that he had been having an affair with the woman, Browning. So she had to go too.”

“That’s the thing about murder. Covering up clues is infectious. You end up piling bodies upon bodies, and your ability to hide the corpses shrinks as the pile of bodies gets bigger and bigger.

“Yes. Regrettably true. That reporter, the private investigator and the house detective from the hotel. I’ve lost count of them. It doesn’t matter how many. When we kill them, it opens the door for the Purge.

“We had originally talked about purging the evil from the hearts of men. Now it meant the purging of opposition. When the thousands start dying all around the country, we will sell the idea that it was a CIA plot. Then we can raise our little army and add to it the crazies that will be calling for blood. We already have highly placed allies who will open the door to a wholesale overthrow of the government. Millions will die. Then we will use our militaries to take over the other countries. The wars that will ensue will take care of the over-population, and destroy enough industry that we’ll stop other population too. So, before I die, the world will have a chance. We will pull back from the edge of the abyss. It will be my legacy.”

I looked at him with a combination of horror and awe.

“Another slight point. Don’t expect the CDC or the FBI to come to the rescue. We have been tapping your phones, thanks to a local policeman who is on our side.

“Have you ever heard of an old time performer name Mark Guy?”

“Yeah. Impressionist, wasn’t he?”

“He was one of those ‘broken people’ I told you about. Now he helps me. He studied your voice for days, he had you spot on. So when he called your contacts at both those agencies, tonight, and called off the raids, no one questioned him at all. And he used your password, in case you are holding out hope with that. We heard that on the bugs too.”

I felt that final knife turn in my ribs.

“I guess no one in your group is allowed to use the phrase ‘Crazy as a fucking loon;’ am I right?”

He stopped cold.

Then he just laughed.

A cold, crazy laugh.

I think I shivered.

Back to the Beginning

Continue on to Chapter 45