As Good as Dead

By Darrin Atkins

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 26, 2000
• ISBN: 9781469102399

Darrin Atkins

Darrin Atkins was raised in Stockton, California. He graduated from the University of the Pacific in 1993 and then studied in a Ph.D. Program in Social Psychology at the University of Nevada. He has worked at Premiere magazine, Nevada magazine, the Reno Gazette-Journal, Investor’s Business Daily and The Record. “You Always Lose” is his fourth book.

Book preview

PART ONE

1      

The electric power facility stood there surrounded by a chain link fence in the dark of night with only a slight reflection from the stars. The long, tall poles stretched into each other and pierced the empty sky. The transformers absorbed the energy and the capacitors stored it for future use, to enable the citizens of the county to go about their lives. There was an obvious deathly danger to this monstrous electrical energy and the abundant signs outside compelled passers-by to stay clear, to beware of the forces locked up behind the fence. In one sense this much power was appealing for what it could not do. It could not keep alive the person who wished to be dead, who wished to vault over the fence and let his humanoid form melt away into oblivion by embracing the charged poles and conglomerates, by escaping from the life that he found too difficult to endure. This electrical power site was a way out if life proved too difficult.

It was enticing, this innocent yet potentially devastating beast that allowed so many hundreds of thousands of people to utilize its power for years and years and go on and have babies and raise them and see them off into the journey of their own adventures. The facility provided people with a way to go about their lives but it also had the capability to take life, to end it. All that live electricity bouncing back and forth through those simple lines and mini-towers and relays and absorbing devices and cells.

How could this great wonderful bastion of energy be so accessible, so lacking in video cameras and security systems? It was almost as if he was expected to make his way under the fence and safely through the maze of connected rods and diodes and systems. It was welcoming him, calling his name, beckoning him to join it and be absorbed into the power lines and flow throughout the city from base to base.

This man who was so enthralled by this power was also fascinated by the slow dull hum of the sound of the energy being developed right before him, so close he was to the action, so near to the unnatural forces of electricity. He could hear the hard crackle of the small lightning bolts that whizzed from section to section, getting larger and larger, being absorbed one into another, all of it being stored up and being magically channeled and maintained as regular household 220 electricity. This same power he witnessed was being sent all over the city, to the downtown cineplex to the tiny hamburger stand on Fourth Street to the police communications center two blocks from city hall. It was alive and its energy never diminished except during the very hot summer months and very cold winter months but during those times an additional provider was sub-contracted to increase the total amount of electricity available so this one did not get too low.

It was quite late now, in the early morning after midnight, and this man knew that it would become obvious of his intent if he didn’t move along. He was savoring the thought of just letting it go, of leaving his past and future behind him and just taking the plunge over the top and onto the power supply, the hot live electrical lines that had yet to be sent out to the masses. But he was not ready just yet and the appropriate time would make itself known. After all, there could be someone watching him, someone hiding in the bushes, some insomniac who had nothing better to do than walk around until he was so exhausted that he would have no trouble sleeping.

There was an overpass about fifty yards from him and occasionally vehicles would drive past. Though he was dressed in black, his paranoia and suspiciousness cautioned him to stay hidden and remain undetected. He hated people in general and despised their monotonous lives and the importance they placed on their own existence and how they felt they were making the world a better place, a world that didn’t need them at all and would actually be a better place without them. There were too many people on the planet and one less here or there couldn’t possibly make a difference. He could start by eliminating itself and maybe that would provide an impetus for others to do the same.

He didn’t live that far away and could come back to this spot any time he wanted. The power and potential for death and annihilation would always be there and this exciting electrical plant that generated so much electricity would always be his safety net if things caved in on him and he couldn’t handle the burdens and perpetual weight of existence.

But he had to make a decision eventually because there were rumors in his city of Bridgetown that this plant might be shut down in favor of one of the four major electrical companies in the country and their determination to eliminate the small-town providers like this one. The elimination of this particular place of electrical power generation would inevitably be shut down, most likely sometime this year. This was his only plan of escape so he had to keep an eye on his situation in life and this plant and make sure it was always available for him to end his existence. He wasn’t about to shoot himself or stick his head in an oven. And he didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to swallow a bottle of poisonous pills. The electricity and potential of being absorbed by all that energy appealed to him most definitely.

2      

The police department in the small town of Bridgetown roared in chaos as officers, detectives and investigators raced to and fro, as the phones rang continuously, as the stress levels rose to unbearable levels. There was a dire emergency and crisis that none had ever before imagined possible, a crime of unforeseen abomination. The captain yelled in frustration at the walls in his office as he stood alone, given that he was not fully prepared for this level of responsibility and demand for immediate action. The secretaries drank double expressos and cappuccinos to keep up their energy and be able to perform the extra loads of work.

The hallways shook from the continued hustle and bustle of movement, the unrelenting travel back and forth of the heavy, bulky boots worn by the members of law enforcement at the station. Half of the people didn’t even know why they were running or why it was so urgent that they get to their desks. It was just that nobody wanted to appear inactive and everyone knew how terribly urgent it was to unravel every single bit of evidence that could be obtained.

No one had ever seen things this bad before in this small precinct of the tiny city a stone’s throw from the California coastline, a city with a population just over fifty thousand people. This would be the worst crime occurrence and most intense criminal investigation they had ever seen and would ever see in their entire careers. They just happened to be so unlucky as to be residents of Bridgetown and, even worse, had happened to be part of the police force. Now they had their jobs to do and instantaneous triumph was expected and demanded of them.

Second year officer Eric Fetty didn’t know what to do or even what to think for that matter. He was still learning how to be an effective police officer, still learning the ropes of being able to walk the fine line between doing his job and treating the citizens of Bridgetown as well as they deserved and with courteous respect. He still had to earn their loyalty and that was something that would take lots of time.

Becoming an officer of the law had been a tough career change for him but definitely a necessary one. Eight years in an office environment stuck between endless layers of dividers and walls at a marketing and public relations firm had finally taken its toll on him and he had gotten out. He had been wasting away and dissolving into the fabric and texture of the company and some weeks it seemed as if he never left because the work and the buildings had become so much a part of him. There were times when he was at home that he would reach out for some equipment, a stapler or pen, that he assumed was close at hand but wasn’t. He had begun to lose the ability to separate his self from his job and that was the biggest and only clue he needed to get out for good.

Though the first years of pay as a cop would be less than what he had been making, it was something he had to do to keep his sanity. That was the compromise and it was an easy one. He and his family could make the necessary adjustments and they had to. At least now he could move around more and get outside, could help people who needed assistance, could make his neighborhood safer and better for his wife and daughter whom he loved more than anything. His old job had been killing him and had been negatively affecting his family and he couldn’t handle that at all. His family was his top priority and needed to be.

It had taken a lot of discussions to convince his wonderful loving wife Belinda that he would be safe, that he would always take extra precautions and be extra careful while out on patrol or during arrests. He promised over and over that he would always follow procedure and never try to be a hero and never rush in without backup. He loved her too much to do any of that. After all, Bridgetown was a small city in a small county and they never had the horrible murder rates and crime statistics that bigger urban cities had and he couldn’t foresee a dramatic increase in any of those stats in the coming years. The city was midway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, plenty of distance from Highway 101 on one side and Interstate 5 on the other, and a good distance from the metropolitan gangs and roughnecks that terrorized other communities. It had to be one of the safest places ever in which to become an officer of the law and defender of the just. There was much less to do and fewer recreational activities than other places but that was another compromise and he