CHAPTER 19
Jennifer
“Sorry to keep you
waiting,” Hank began. He was sitting behind what was once the
police chief’s desk. The vanity wall, Jennifer was amused to see,
had been stripped of a previous occupant’s awards and replaced with
his own Salesman of the Month certificates.
“Huh,” Jennifer
remarked casually as she scanned the wall. “I didn’t know you sold
propane, and propane accessories.”
“I haven’t had much
time for it lately,” he replied, missing the amusement in
Jennifer’s tone. “I keep them here as a reminder of a better time.
A time we might return to, if we can all pitch in
together.”
It’s funny, she told herself. He tries to sound like a leader, but comes out like . . .
well, like Salesman of the Month.
Elizabeth glanced
around, noticing the lack of chairs beyond Hank’s own plush,
leather, wheeled office chair. “Hmmm.”
“Excuse me.” Carrot
Helmet had bustled in behind them, carrying the plastic chairs they
had used in the hallway. “I remembered I forgot to put chairs in
here for your meeting, Mayor Blacktooth.”
“I told you I
didn’t—”
Dr. Georges-Scales
beamed a thousand-gigawatt smile at her former patient’s sister.
“Thank you, Chief.”
“Yeah, thanks,”
Jennifer added, inwardly chortling at the flash of annoyance that
creased Hank’s face like a fleeting wrinkle. She carefully, slowly,
deliberately seated herself with a wriggle and appreciative sigh.
“Saaay, this is nice.”
“As I was saying,
Lizzy,” Hank said, glaring at Jennifer, “I’m sorry to keep you
waiting. I’m sure you can imagine the demands I’ve got on my time
these days.”
“Um? Oh, yes, the
burdens of leadership,” her mother agreed, pleasantly enough as the
police chief left and shut the door behind her. “Say, it’s lovely
to see you promoting the next generation of peace officers so
rapidly.”
Hank shrugged. “We’ve
been through three police chiefs since Glory died. I’ve been forced
to rely on younger members of the force.”
Her mother gave him a
look from beneath her lashes. “Perkier, too.”
His cheeks reddened.
“So anyhow. What’s on your mind, Lizzy?”
“You are aware of my
husband’s recent death.”
He bit his lip,
trying for a diplomatic moment. “I had heard. How did he die,
exactly?”
“That’s why I’m
here.” Elizabeth sat and pulled her chair right up to Hank’s desk.
This left Jennifer sitting in the background, which suited everyone
fine. Mother had made clear to daughter what her role here would
be, and Jennifer waited for that moment. “He died from the same
sort of sorcery that destroyed city hall.”
Hank’s eyes widened,
and Jennifer recognized fear. Good. He gets
that we’re all vulnerable.
“Hank. We’ve not
agreed on very much over the years. Since Glory died, it feels like
it’s gotten worse.”
He coughed. “There
have been agreements in principle. You’ve rendered aid to dozens of
my warriors.”
“And in return,
they’ve left the hospital alone. This has been a wise policy, Hank.
Thank you for that. I wonder if we might come to a deeper
agreement.”
“Such
as?”
“My daughter has
arranged for her colleagues in the Blaze to search for Skip Wilson
and apprehend him. While they do that, it would help matters a
great deal if those you command would . . . tone
down.”
This elicited a
frown. “Tone down?”
“No more provocative
rallies. No more hobblings. No more killings. Just protection of
the innocent.”
“What do you think
we’ve been doing, if not protecting the innocent?” He waved his
arms at the walls, and Jennifer didn’t know if he was referring to
police actions or outstanding customer service in propane-accessory
supply. “What do you think it takes, Lizzy?”
“I think it takes
less drama than you’ve inspired.”
“You felt the same
way about Glory—”
“Don’t.” Elizabeth took a breath. “Please don’t
compare yourself to Glory.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
His tone was petulant now, as if he had been told he couldn’t have
the shiny lollipop in the candy-store window. “Haven’t I led this
town during its greatest crisis of the last half century? Haven’t I
protected thousands of townspeople from the destruction dragons
have loosed upon us? Haven’t I diverted precious resources toward
putting out Ember Longtail’s most recent fires—oh, yes, I know what
she is up to,” he added in response to their expressions of
surprise.
“If you
know—”
“She wants to starve
us out, freeze us out, before this winter is through. We will be
ready for her next assault. I will open up this town’s armory, and
we will spare no sentiment in eliminating her.”
Jennifer chewed her
tongue. His precise assessment of what Ember was up to disturbed
her, because it meant there were things he was doing that were
already helpful to them. Did that mean they owed him
something?
“Ember Longtail is a
small matter, compared to whoever is aiming at both of us from out
there. We have to focus, Hank. It’s a lesson Glory taught all who
followed her.”
“Don’t patronize me.
I know plenty about Glory’s lessons.”
Sensing the
diplomatic effort failing, Elizabeth turned to Jennifer. “Perhaps
you should pass on your message, honey.”
“Sure, Mom.” Jennifer
turned to Hank. “Mr. Blacktooth, your son gave me a message for
you. He told me to tell you he still misses his mother. He wants
you to honor her by working with us to end this conflict. He wants
us to work together to build a memorial for her, and for the others
who have died here.”
“A memorial for Wendy
is in the works,” Hank said. “As you can imagine, in this time of
limited resources, when we have to be in a constant state of
readiness, it is difficult to find the staff—”
“I think you may be
missing the point of my daughter’s message, Hank.” To no one’s
surprise. “Your son wants you to stop what you’re doing. He wants
you to take a different path.”
Hank’s features
darkened. “I could say very much the same for him.”
“If we can’t come to
peaceful terms within this dome, how on earth are we going to
survive? How are we going to stop our common enemy?”
“By common enemy, I
presume you mean the arachnids and dragons that infest this corner
of Minnesota.”
“I mean, unstoppable missiles, starvation, and
exposure to the elements as we run out of fuel!”
“But not dragons,” he
said, and neither of them could figure out if he was being ironic.
“Look, it’s this simple: our goals don’t intersect enough. I am
fine with your staff continuing to provide medical care to my
soldiers, as necessary.”
“I’ll bet you are,”
Jennifer said pleasantly.
He ignored her. “In
return, we will allow the hospital to operate—”
“I don’t need your
permission,” Elizabeth snapped, “to run
that hospital.” She stood. “I had hoped a year of governing
responsibility would have matured you, Hank. But the problem with
you was never immaturity. It was, and still is, sociopathy. You are
an intractable leech who bleeds everyone and everything around you,
all to the goal of feeding a starved ego that never, ever feels
full. No matter how bloated you get off of others’ misery—Wendy’s,
Eddie’s, this entire town’s—you will continue to suck, and suck,
and suck. You will be the ruin of us all.”
She turned to her
daughter. “Did I miss anything?”
Jennifer blinked. “I
might have added another ‘suck.’ ”
“Get out of my
office!” Hank thundered, rising with a fist in the air and coming
around his desk. “Get out of my headquarters! Get out of my
town!”
“I will stay in this
town, even if the dome disappears someday; and I will go where I
please, when I please.” Elizabeth actually stepped forward into
Hank’s advance, making him stop abruptly.
Jennifer watched,
praying he’d try something. Anything. A swing. A sneeze. A
seizure.
“My daughter and I
will recruit from among your own staff, showing them a different
path than the one you’ve chosen. We will inspire hope where you
inspire fear. We will protect the innocent where you torture the
helpless. We will do everything we can to render you utterly alone,
and when Skip’s swarms come for you—and they will, Hank, someday
soon, they will, I know it . . . and you do,
too—you will die, utterly alone, unmourned and unloved.
Which is far more than you deserve, you stupid, sorry, pathetic
little man.”
She all but pushed a
stunned Jennifer out into the hallway and slammed the door behind
them. The crash of exactly two upended plastic chairs against the
other side of the door made Jennifer flinch. Her mother, however,
was already down the hallway.
“Chief Whittle. I
have a proposition for you.”