Trust

By Robert Hayes

Police Chief Corey Conn thinks his home town of prosper point is the perfect place to end his Career in the force. Till recently, it had been a quiet, small town with simple problems and good people. Now, people are rioting in the streets, anger and hate is rising on every corner. Guns are loaded as people take shelter in the community center. The only hope the town has might be the stranger who just arrived.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Hayes
• Release date: Feb 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781775194118

Book preview

Trust/Hayes 6

Trust

By R. A. Hayes

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner, whatsoever without written permission.

Copyright© 2017 by Robert A. Hayes

Published by Cherished Stories Publishing

ISBN 978-1-7751941-0-1

Trust

Chapter One

The door to the small room swung open. It slammed into the wall. He charged into the room, his white lab coat floating behind him as he ran in. He looked around the room to confirm it was empty. He glanced once the way he had come. With two long strides he was over to the desk that held several computer screens on it, each one was divided into six squares, they all glowed red. He slammed his hand on the desk. The slap echoed in the nearly empty room. He pushed the metal chair under the desk as he stood up and looked around the room. They door he has just come through was open and against the wall behind him. There was a vent on the top of the wall beside him and a locked door in front of him, above the door glowed an exits sign. There was a key pad and a card lock next to the locked door. He heard the ventilation system kick on. The ribbons that were attached to the vent fluttered with the new breeze. He crinkled his nose at the antiseptic smell that came out of the vent.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold security card. He rushed toward the door. He swept his card through the reader and a small red light came on. He punched in a long string of numbers and the light turned green. There was a load clunk as the door unlocked. He yanked the door open a went through. The door started to slowly close behind him. He had taken only two steps when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned as man dashed into the room

Don’t, don’t close the door.

The young man ran into the door as it locked with a clunk . He pushed the handled and slammed his fist into the glass as woman in a lab coat ran into his back. They both stared out the window of the metal door. The metal wire in the glass divided up the man on the other side of the door. He stared at them as he stepped back. In his hand was a gold security pass key. He stopped and took one step forward. A red flash from behind the couple made him stared up into the corner of the room he was in. There was a small dome over the door and with every red flash, panic rose.

It’s too late.

No, no it’s not, let us out, begged the woman. Tears poured down her face as she hit the window with the palm of her hand. We have a young son. He needs us. Please, he is just a baby.

No, and the man in the white lab coat and glasses turned and ran out the far door.

The man turned to his wife, he caressed her head as he turned and searched around the room. He could smell the antiseptic gas as it floated out of the vent systems. There was a desk with a computer on it and a metal chair on wheels. On the far wall stood file cabinets and a second large monitor with everything lite up in red.

The man ran over to the desk and grabbed the chair by its back. He ran up to the door and slammed it into the window, nothing. He lifted the chair over his head and slammed it again into the window, nothing.

He looked at his wife. Tears streaked down her face. Our son, who will take care of him? We have no other family, we have to save him.

The man gritted his teeth and slammed the chair several times in a row into the window. It cracked.

*****

Darren filled his lungs with the moist rich smell of the dark coffee. He poured the coffee with one hand as he held the saucer of the cup. The insulated coffee carafe made no noise as he set it down and picked up the gold embossed creamer. He tipped the cream into the gold rimmed cup and watched as it rolled into clouds is the dark coffee. He put both fine china pieces down and straighten his vest and coat. His fingers clasped the edge of the saucer and he balanced it as he lifted up from the coffee bar. The china cup floated as he walked over to the dark mahogany desk. He stopped just beside the massive desk and waited .

Ms. Monenga sat behind the desk in a leather chair. Her black hair fell behind her as her sharp eyes scanned the brochure that laid on the desk. Her gold and platinum pen streaked across a section of the brochure, which was marked up like a fifth-grade book report. She put her pen down and Darren stepped closer to the desk, placing the cup and saucer down then stepping back. I wonder if she has ever

served anyone a cup of coffee, thought Darren.

He watched her eyes flit back an d forth as she continued to scan the brochure. She raised the cup to her ruby lips and paused, allowing the aroma to fill the air in front of her. She took a long sip from the cup then returned it to the saucer. She scooped up the brochure and handed it to Darren.

Make sure they drop all reference to our military contracts. Have them focus on our health and elderly care policies.

Yes Ms. Monenga, do you wish to see the revised brochure before it goes to the printer? asked Darren.

Of course.

I will make sure you have the new sample right after lunch. Shall I have your lunch brought to you or shall I make reservation for you?

Ms. Monenga picked up her coffee and took a slow sip . Her eyes closed as she let the warmth of the coffee fill her mouth. A quick smile, then she turned to Darren.

Have my regular table reserved for me. There will be two of us this afternoon. I also want the revise brochure here before lunch.

Yes Ms. Monenga, Darren nodded. He walked over to the double doors and gently pushed on them. They opened automatically. He stepped through as they started to close behind him.

Ms. Monenga leaned back in her leather chair, inhaling the smell of cinnamon. Military people only cared to hear about the military application of their research. The public wanted to hear about the health benefits of the Mango Co. The share holders, like herself, demanded to know how much profit there was in their research. The President of a small coastal country, with whom she would take lunch, wanted to know two of those three things.

Her desk chirped.

She lifted an eyebrow and slid her hand under the edge of the desk to push a hidden button. A slot opened up on her desktop and an ultra thin computer monitor rose from it . I wonder if that edge of the screen could cut someone, give them a paper cut or two. Once it had fully floated out of the slot it tipped slightly for her. A laser keyboard appeared on the wooden desk in front of the monitor as the screen lit up. Sensors in her monitor would follow her fingers and would enter the proper keystrokes.

She clicked on the glowing e-mail icon. Her personal e-mail account popped up. There was no tag on it. She opened the e-mail and she pondered who to reprimand about this unprofessional use of her e-mail. A single line opened on her screen.

We have a yellow problem here at Prosper Point, Canada.

She quickly put her coffee down. Her brightly painted nails tapped the desk top. A picture of a research plant appeared on her screen. It was surrounded by red maple trees and a bright blue sky. Under it was a summary of the location. Her eyes narrowed as she read the screen. She leaned back into her chair and turned to look out the large widows that took up the outer wall of her office.

That’s one of mine, she said to no one . She drummed her fingers on the desk then stretched them out. Let’s see, it’s Dr. Rosen MacFarline’s project. The Canadian thanksgiving has just passed, so the research plant has sat idle for three days. They should have it up and at full capacity by now.

Ms. Monenga turned her head and look at her desk. Darren, she said sharply.

The desk answered back, Yes Ms. Monenga.

Find out who the mayor of Prosper Point is and get me the contract information, now.

Yes Ms. Monenga. A soft click sounded from the desk.

She turned her attention back to the monitor and traced a line on her desk, moving the mouse to Dr. MacFarline’s picture. She double tapped, and the sound of a phone ringing rose from her desk.

Hello, hello.

Ms. Monenga glanced at her screen to make sure she had clicked on the right picture. What is going on she thought. Who is this?

Samuel, Samuel Trest, said the out-of-breath desk. I’m Dr. MacFarline’s assistant.

Why do you have his company phone?

I was, I mean, I was going to—

Answer me right now.

It was in his desk, blurted out Samuel. I was praying he’d dialed his own phone. We have a system failure here. No phones or intercoms. I can’t call anyone.

Control yourself, ordered Ms. Monenga as she leaned forward on her chair. Is the building on lock down?

Yes madam, that is the problem, the building went into lock down and within minutes all communication went dead. I am sealed off and cut off from everyone. You are the first person that I have been able to talk to outside this room.

Listen to me, I want an evaluation of the situation there.

Silence came from the desk. Ms. Monenga turned her head and leaned even closer to the invisible speaker in the desk. She heard rapid breaths from the desk. The man was about to hyperventilate."

I, I don’t think I can do that.

You will do that, now.

Dr. MacFarline was upset this morning. He threw a fit and yelled for the attendance records for the past week. I tried to help but he refused to tell me what had happen. He scanned the attendance list and then he left me alone in his lab. A short time later we went into lock down. Why are we in lock down?

Get me Dr. MacFarline.

I can’t, blubbered Samuel.

Just find him.

She tapped her desk and the connection was ended. She slowly stood up and stretched her legs. She walked the ten steps from her desk to the large windows. She looked down over green lawns and forest. She looked at her reflection in the window and thought, Dr. MacFarline is brilliant. He will contain whatever the problem was in Prosper Point. She hesitated, then thought, Unless he was the problem.

****

What’s that noise?

Linda looked up from her favorite chair. It was a large comfy seat which seemed to swallow her when she sat down in it. She would often curl up in this chair and read a book, her long legs pouring over one arm while her back leaned on the other arm There was a big fluffy pillow at her back. She wore her favorite t-shirt and most comfy ripped jeans .

You hear things Mom. You need to get out more.

Me, I’m out enough. You’re the one who needs to get out and meet some nice people your own age.

Right, and who will look after your granddaughter? You’re always out with all your volunteer work.

Us early retirees have to keep busy. How about Elaine or Tabatha ? I know their families and they live just a few blocks away.

No, I don’t think Sabrina would be comfortable with anyone yet. Maybe when she is older.

You mean you will be more comfortable, when she is much older. You need to trust someone.

I trust you.

Thank you dear, but I’m your mother, you should trust me.

Both women turned their head towards the back door. Samantha put her knitting down. She sat on the sofa opposite to Linda.

It’s suppertime, it is probably a raccoon or a bear in the garbage again, said Linda as she unfolded her fashion magazine.

Please check it for me dear. I’m in a middle of a row, said Samantha.

Another sweater for your church group, said Linda as she put the magazine down on the floor. You just want me to get eaten by a bear, don’t you Mom.

Linda crawled out of her chair. She shook her head at her mom as she stood up. I’m twenty-two and I still do everything you ask.

Twenty-two or a hundred and two, it is always wise to listen to your mother .

Linda walked into the dark kitchen. There was just enough light from the living room for her to see around the table and chairs. The back door was at the far end of the kitchen. Linda leaned her nose up against the window and peered into their backyard. The sky was cloudy and the back yard was grey, a swing set silhouetted against the horizon. She reached up and slid the chain off the door then turned the bolt. She pulled the door open a crack and listened.

The crisp fall air brought the smell of burnt leaves from someone’s backyard fire. The screen door made it hard to see in the dim light but nothing moved. Linda’s hand moved up to the light switch and paused. She flipped it on, her mother’s warnings echoing through her head: If it’s a bear, you lock the door and wait till it decides to leave. She flipped on the light and scanned the backyard.

The grey of the chain link fence shined in the gloom of the night. The picnic table had toys on it. A tea set and a few dolls had been left out to shiver in the last dim light of the day. Linda opened the screen door and poked her head out. The three garbage cans beside the door were still upright and their lids were on tight. Linda’s eyes moved over to the swing set. One of the swings swayed in the dim light. There was a moan from the tall grass. Something was lying between the swing set and the chain link fence. It had flattened the tall grass, and it rolled as it tried to get up.

Mom, you better get out here now, shouted Linda as she swung open the screen door and ran out into the backyard .

****

Johan could only see black. His sides and back hurt. His face felt like someone had used it as a punching bag. There was grass and dirt underneath him and the odor of garbage filled his nose. The cool autumn air and the damp earth made every sensation worse. He could feel the cold sink into his body. A faint light was shining in the distant and he closed his eyes tighter to block out its brightness. Then, the slow creak of a door reached him . A cold breeze brushed past him, and the squeak of a swing overhead made him try to look up.

He heard a woman’s voice, then the screech of an old screen door being swung wide then slammed close. Footsteps squished the grass as they approached. Johan felt warm soft hands grasp his shoulders. They were tender as they helped him upward, and a gentle voice spoke to him.

Up you come, easy, easy. Looks like you’ve been mugged. This town is not as friendly to strangers as it used to be. The hands led him towards a door. Take it easy, you’re almost at the house. You can do it. There is are steps in front of you. That’s right, up you go.

Johan eased his eyes open. There was a young woman with dirty blond hair, helping him up the three steps into the house. An older woman with concerned expression held the screen door for both of them, then closed and locked it.

My back has never hurt so much he thought. Where am I?

Get him to the kitchen table. What happen to his clothes? They’re shredded! How serious are those cuts, Linda?

I don’t think they are as bad as they look.

I’ll go and fetch him some clean clothes. Don’t let Sabrina see him like this.

Linda nodded her head as her mother left the room.

There was no light in the kitchen but Johan could make out a small round table with three chairs around it. There were dishes on the counter and a coffee maker in the corner. Linda helped him to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. Johan fell into it. The light from the other room hurt his right eye, and his lip felt very fat. The younger woman left Johan at the chair and walked over to the sink. She glanced back at him, then opened the lower cupboard door and pulled out a clean wash cloth, soaking it in water from the tap. She kept her eye on Johan as she wrung it out. She hesitated for a moment, then walked over to Johan and handed him the wet cloth. It was cold and damp in his hand and he put it on his lip with care.

I’m Linda, Linda Sable. What is your name?

Johan.

Johan what?

Just Johan.

Well just Johan, it looks like some local rough necks really worked you over.

Yes, many of them had rough necks .

And my name’s Samantha, informed the older woman who came out from the far side of the living room. Here, these are some old clothes we collected for our church rummage sale. There’s a bathroom just around the far corner there. Go and put some decent clothes on and clean yourself up best you can.

Johan nodded as he rose with a wince from the chair. He moved with care, not sure which part of him hurt the most. Samantha handed him the pile of clothes and Johan tried to smile as he accepted them.

He moved through the living room to the far wall. There was a hallway that led to several closed doors. The first door was open and he looked into it. It was the bathroom. He slid his hand along the wall next to the door but found no switch. He stepped into the bathroom and looked around. The glow from the living room was enough to silhouette the room. There was a sink with an oval mirror above it, and a toilet beside that. On the opposite side was the bathtub. He put the clothes down