The deputy paused, and the patent concern in his stern, furrowed guise intimately cheered Nate, a little. It was nice to have the tough cop’s concern for once.
“Well, look, Joey and I might be able to convince people to leave everything and come with us,” Copperseed said. “But we need to give them a tangible reason. What is the threat?”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Kerri started, flipping her hair and wishing she had an unopened can of Coke. “It’s kind of a long story, but—”
ANDY: Wait.
(They all wait.)
ANDY: Would it be quicker to just give people an actual emergency?
PART FOUR
PANIC
Andy Humpty-Dumptied onto a steel girder, ripped a long strip of duct tape, and fixed the last four sticks of dynamite under the junction of the girder and the pillar, where the secondary explosion had the best odds to ignite it.
Below her, Deputy Copperseed, in charge of damage control, carted the last stack of flammable material out of the room while Captain Al finished fiddling with the power switchboard near the entrance, which when activated would send the triggering discharge into the fuse.
“I think we’re set,” he said through the pocket flashlight between his teeth, turning to inspect the mostly cleared blast area. “Should those barrels be there? I’d rather not cause a real ecological disaster if I can avoid it.”
“They’re all empty; I checked,” Copperseed said, wiping his hands and joining Al in the middle of the vast cargo bay, under the long skylights. “And I thought we could use some shrapnel anyway.”
Andy slid off the girder and squat-landed on the floor between them. The three reviewed the explosive charges they had placed strategically across the cargo bay to go off in chain reaction. They weren’t handling that much explosive power, but each charge had been planted in key architectural joints to increase the damage and cover their tracks. It was like playing demolitionists, but without the years of study or the civil liability.
“You know,” the captain began, “it’s spooky how fast you came up with this idea, Andy.”
“Yeah. Almost as spooky as how easily you can build a detonator out of junkyard material, Cap,” she said, and then she spied a fraction of a smile on Copperseed’s hair-thin lips. “And you were disturbingly quick to jump onto the Let’s blow up the chemical plant wagon yourself, Deputy.”
The policeman acknowledged the hit, but didn’t avert his eyes from their opus.
“I always hated this place,” he said. “Damn corporation, building their shit in town, shutting it down, and never cleaning up after themselves. And besides, they are kicking our asses in court.”
“Oh.” Andy frowned, mentally catching a loose end in the air. “Actually, if you’re talking about the lawsuit for the death of the sheep, Kerri says it probably wasn’t RH’s fault after all. Chances are a small earthquake released a cloud of gas from the lake, and it traveled downriver to the grazing field and wiped them out.”
All three fell silent for a second, admiring the seamless connection of that loose end.
“Huh,” said Copperseed. “Still, they should’ve dismantled this years ago. Maybe this will make them listen, if there’s something left to dismantle afterward.”
“Oh, there will be,” Captain Al said with a downplaying grin. “It won’t bring the whole thing down. Just a good bang.”
Andy bit her lip on recalling. “Shit. Captain, I’m sorry, I…I lost your service pistol at the bottom of the Allen shaft. I’m so sorry.”
Al scoffed, slapped her shoulder.
“Hey. Never cry about a gun. Sadly it’s one of the easiest things to replace in this country. Shall we?”
They gave a final nod to their evening’s work and then headed out, the captain laying the wire along the way. They were stepping out into the dregs of the day.
“You know what would actually happen if we were found responsible for this, right?” the captain polled as they marched across the flat, barren grounds around the chemical plant.
Andy smirked first at the loyalty implied in that first person plural, then answered. “Probably we’d get charged with…I don’t know, arson?”
“More likely terrorism,” Copperseed noted. “That’s serious business. More serious than breaking out of a Texas prison, anyway.”
The nonchalance of the remark didn’t escape her. Still, she kept walking.
“How long have you known?”
“I looked you kids up as soon as you left the station,” he said. “Don’t worry; I didn’t report you. The captain vouched for you, and that works for me.”
Captain Al did not say a word. Ahead, they could already make out the silhouettes of the others waiting on top of the knoll against the last dying light. An orange flame sparkled among them.
“Do they know?” Al asked.
“Yeah,” Andy said. “There are no secrets between us.”
—
Kerri was sitting on the grass finishing off the detonator, with Joey spying over one shoulder, trying to offer advice, and Tim over her other shoulder, being even more annoying. Nate sat off on his own, chin propped on his knees, gazing at the early stars. Andy and the captain and Deputy Copperseed joined them shortly after, and the captain handed the end of the wire to Kerri, who connected it to the basic rocker switch upgraded to demolition detonator.
“Do we have enough firepower?” Nate asked, not sounding really involved. He could remember the names of at least three mental hospital patients he had met who had been committed for acts much less cinematic than the one he was about to be an accomplice in.
“Yup. It’s gonna make some great fireworks,” Andy said, helping Al complete the circuit by connecting the switch to an old car battery that would provide the minimal power needed. Bombs are efficient devices like that, she appreciated.
The hulking black silhouette of the chemical plant seemed suddenly unimpressive: overdressed with tortuous pipes and fire stairways, but also so ugly and forlorn and unsuspecting of what was coming, Andy couldn’t help but feel like she was plotting to throw a firecracker at an old lady’s feet.
“Right, let’s go through this one more time,” Captain Al prompted. “Once we hit the switch…”
“I go back to the police station,” Copperseed picked up, “call the sheriff in Belden, report a massive explosion at the abandoned chemical plant. It’s an environmental emergency. Everyone goes nuts. Sheriff calls the mayor, mayor calls EPA in Seattle, EPA notifies FEMA and orders evacuation. Which we will have already undertaken.”
“Once the emergency is declared, my friends at Umatilla airbase are authorized to come and assist,” Al followed. “I know two high-ranking officers, and they know already that the environmental emergency is a cover; what they come to fight is a biological threat. Pictures and notes from your autopsy helped there,” he told Kerri. “But they can’t leave the base until EPA has declared the emergency. Say…four, five hours.”
“We’ll be moving in at midnight,” Andy said. “When your friends arrive, take them straight to the lake. Guard the shores; if you don’t hear from us by dawn, or if you see flares, just take over the isle.”