In The Town Where All Things Are Possible: Part 23
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In the Town Where All Things Are Possible, Alexandria’s fingers tightened around a box containing “Dangerous” wishes from August of 1832. She met the killer’s eyes as the lift rose to the street level. She could hear the whispers of townspeople circled around the Greek’s grocery store, just out of view. She also heard the Man Who Held the Town Together banging against the door of the vault below, where he was trapped.
Alexandria was on her own.
“I have ten more minutes,” Alexandria called to the Killer.
“Just enough time for us to walk to the cliffs,” he replied as he looked down the elevator shaft. “I have been instructed to give you a dignified death.”
His eyes flicked away from her to the crowd, but Alexandria’s view was still blocked.
“I have ten minutes,” Alexandria repeated.
“You’re time is up.”
The lift continued to groan as Alexandria approached the street surface. She looked around for a button, a switch, anything that might stop the elevator, but there was nothing. She closed her eyes, steadied herself, and reconsidered her plan.
Alexandria’s face rose above the street and she saw the crowd rustling about her in a semi-circle that spanned the face of the grocer storefront. The killer waited beside the lift, formal and ready like a hotel concierge. The lift rumbled to a stop.
“What do you have there, little girl?” the Killer asked.
Alexandria opened her eyes, looking down to the aged and yellowed cardboard box. Her eyes lifted to his eyes, then the brand scared into his face.
“Hope.”
“Leave it here,” he said.
“No.”
The killer showed a blade in his left hand, turning it so the sunlight bounced off the bloody steel up to her face. It was the same knife that she buried into his back.
“Leave it here.”
“I have ten minutes,” Alexandria said. “You can’t touch me.”
“I can kill you right here,” the killer said, raising the knife slowly, then pressing the edge into Alexandria’s neck. She refused to flinch as a thin line of blood trickled along the blade. “I gave you until five out of kindess. The town won’t stop me from skinning you right here, right now. Put the box down.”
Alexandria looked past the killer into the grocery mart. The Greek wasn’t singing. She looked across the crowd, then to the alleyway, seeing the very edge of the poster with the magic and cryptic scene of a transsexual and her hunter.
“What happened to the dancing woman?” Alexandria asked.
“What?”
The killer turned, following her eyes toward the alleyway, but kept the knife pressed to her neck.
“The woman dancing along the street, there is a burning tire, then a man running after her,” Alexandria said. “Tell me what happened to her, then I will follow you.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Did you kill her, are you the man running after her?” Alexandria asked.
The killer lowered the blade from her neck.
“No.”
The killer nodded his head behind Alexandria to a squat, middle-aged man standing amid the crowd. She remembered the blur of the hunter, remembering his form, finally deciding that the killer was telling the truth.
“What happened?” Alexandria called to the man.
The crowd looked to the man as a sadness seemed to sweep across all their faces.
“He was my son. He…” The middle-aged man paused. “She was sick. I wanted to bring her back to the Town, to let it heal her. I told her that she must dress as a man, that this town is not big enough for her kind. She refused. I chased her not to hurt her, but to plead with her. When I returned, the poster was there, to mock me, I suppose. To mock my failure.”
Alexandria turned back to the killer.
“Tear it down,” Alexandria said. “Tear it down and I will go with you.”
“You got your answer, now put down the box.”
“Tear it down,” Alexandria repeated.
The killer studied Alexandria, then looked back to the alley.
As soon as his head was fully turned, Alexandria kicked his right knee with her heel. The killer buckled and growled in pain. Alexandria sprinted away, but the crowd bunched into her path. The mayor stepped out from the crowd, holding out her arms. Alexandria turned and fled a different direction, but the crowd swayed in front of her.
“No more of this!” the mayor shouted.
Alexandria turned back to the killer. He stood and limped toward Alexandria. The wound in his back had reopened and his black shirt was soaking with blood. Alexandria scanned the crowd, looking for its weakest point. She found Tessa and Gerald. Tessa gave Alexandria a subtle nod. In her hand was a blue flower.
Alexandria ran toward Tessa. The killer jumped into a hobbled sprint. The lift rumbled and clanged. Alexandria turned, with Tessa and Gerald at her back and saw the Greek waving his arms to get her attention. He pointed to the descending grate. The killer lumbered toward Alexandria, the knife at his side. Alexandria juked away and the killer struggled to turn after her. Tessa strode to the killer, lifted the flower, and blew at it’s petals. A white puff exploded out from it. Tessa, Gerald, and two townspeople fell to the ground. The killer stammered away, nearly falling. He dropped the knife and wiped the pollen from his eyes. He swayed and tripped to his knees. He looked up to Alexandria, pushed himself to his feet, but fell back to his knees.
Alexandria ran to the lift and jumped down the shaft, crashing against the grate with the box spilling out around her. She looked up to the sunlight and saw the killer’s face appear just as the metal doors swung shut.
Below, the lights flicked on in the tunnel. Alexandria collected the cards back into the box. The Man was still trying to push the door to the vault open, now able to stick his head out of the crack.
“What’s happening?” the Man called to Alexandria.
“Plan B,” she replied.
She held the ripped box tight against her chest, ran down the tunnel toward the Man, but turned down the side passage, into the dark labyrinth.
CONTINUE…
