Tommy Nightmare(34)
“The election?”
“Forget it.” Schwartzman turned off the TV.
“Oh, my God. That Nelson Artleby guy from the White House. He did this.”
“The White House did this.”
“But we have to fight it,” Heather said. “This could be really important.”
Schwartzman sighed and sagged to the edge of his bed. “The President’s party is facing a very difficult midterm. They might get swept out of Congress. One big negative event like this—”
“But this doesn’t have anything to do with politics.”
“Everything has to do with politics.”
“So, the Governor’s announcement…”
“Calhoun Henderson’s running for the Senate,” Schwartzman said. “He’s desperate for the President’s endorsement.”
“So Artleby cut a deal to bury this story.”
Schwartzman nodded.
“And screw any actual concern for public health and safety. Am I right?” Heather sank down in the room’s easy chair. “This is crazy.”
“The National Guard’s leaving,” Schwartzman said. “Everybody’s leaving. We’ll continue to study what we’ve collected here. But the field investigation has been squashed. It’s time for you to pack your things, Heather.”
“What was the point of me coming here at all?” Heather could hear the bitterness in her own voice.
“No one expected it to go this way,” Schwartzman said. “You should take some time off. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your husband, hasn’t it? And your daughter? She’s, what, three years old now?”
“Four,” Heather said. “And when I leave, who takes over the investigation?”
Schwartzman just looked at her.
“Nobody?” she asked.
Schwartzman laid his hotel keycard on the table by the bed, along with a few dollars to tip the housekeeping staff. “You’ll need to check out today. Give my best to your family.”
He left the room, and the door closed behind him.
Heather stayed where she was for a few minutes, feeling like she’d been hit by a giant truck. A refrigerated truck, full of mysterious dead bodies, with no explanation for their demise.
Chapter Sixteen
Jenny suffered recurring nightmares after the events of Easter night—usually just a replay of what had happened, Ashleigh whipping up the mob, and then blasting away Seth’s chest with a shotgun. The mob closing in on Jenny, and Jenny killing all of them with her horrific pox.
A couple of weeks after Easter, she had a new nightmare, even more vivid.
Jenny wore some kind of rough cloth tunic that felt scratchy on her skin. Her long black hair was pulled into a simple braid. She walked across a battlefield littered with bodies, spears, plumed bronze helmets and circular shields. A horrific slaughter had occurred, and the iron tang of blood hung in the air like smoke.
She was accompanied by soldiers carrying tall, iron-tipped spears that extended high above their heads. Their round shields were slung over their left shoulders, and their helmets had bronze cheekplates to protect their faces. They wore stiff linen tunics with bits of bronze sewn into them. An old man on horseback accompanied the group, dressed not in armor but in robes dyed red, with golden rings on his fingers. Jenny knew he was some kind of priest.
The band of men surrounded Jenny, but they kept their distance from her. They were terrified of touching her.
They led her into an encampment with a few large fires and numerous tents, the largest of which was guarded by a pair of soldiers with spears. This largest tent was their destination.
As they approached, one of the guards leaned into the tent and spoke. Jenny didn’t know the language, yet in her dream she understood the meaning of his words. He was telling someone inside the tent they had arrived. The guard leaned back out and looked at them.
“The priest and the girl may enter,” he said, in his strange language.
The soldiers helped the old priest dismount, and one of the guards held open a tent flap for him to enter.
“Follow me,” the priest said to Jenny.
Inside the tent, two men sat on hard wooden folding stools with squarish seats and legs in an “X” shape. The bottoms of the stool legs were carved to resemble lion’s feet, pointed inward. They ate bread and roasted meat from a low, simple square table.
One of the men, the one who sat off to the side, wore a white linen tunic, trimmed with geometric green patterns. The other man was tall, with a thick beard, and wore a tunic of purple with intricate gold designs sewn into it. He had bracelets of gold in the same style.
The man in white and green stood to formally greet the priest. The man in purple remained seated. He glanced at the priest with little interest, but he studied Jenny intently. She felt uncomfortable in his gaze. He was a king, and she was a slave.