Bull's Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #3

Chapter 41

Zandra's first step into the fire is onto the long, thinner length of wood she'd requested. The unlit end rests like a lever over a log on the edge of the flames. The lit end springs upward with Zandra's left-foot stomp. Her stronger ankle keeps her upright as she wraps both hands around the wood. Sliding the length upward and spinning away from the fire, she wields the wood like a baseball bat.

Despite never having played baseball before, her first swing is a homerun. The lit end of the wood rockets through the video camera in the hands of the man nearby with a crack. The camera flies into the woods somewhere out of the light of the fire.

The aclla may be the symbol, but nothing matters if it isn't on video. No one will believe it otherwise. The psychological power of Gene's ritual, the immaterial side, is gone if the camera is gone.

I just hope I hit the video camera far enough.

Zandra stumbles from the force of the swing, sending her bowed head rushing into Glenn's stomach. Glenn shoves her away, redirecting Zandra toward Gene. In his advanced age, Gene hasn't reacted yet to Zandra's flailing about, despite him still holding a pistol with a finger on the trigger. That sets her up for her second swing.

And now for the material side.

The swing is more of a jab, with Zandra shoving the glowing embers into Gene's face with a quick thrust. Gene's head snaps backward, and he instinctually raises his hands to shield his face. That's when the pistol fires.

Holy shit.

The bullet enters through Gene's chin and exits through the top of his head. He's dead before he hits the ground.

It takes a moment for everyone, including Zandra to realize this. It all happens so fast, Zandra figures the shot is meant for her. She's numb and her vision comes in pinholes, but her heart pumps in her ears. The adrenaline won't let her feel relief, but it does drown out the screaming pain in her bad ankle.

A surreal feeling settles over everyone around the fire as the realization Gene is dead sets in. Except for Elle. She remains huddled to herself, not making so much as a peep after the gunshot.

Zandra drops the length of wood and hovers over Gene's lifeless body. She's joined by Glenn and several others. They all stare at the corpse for several minutes as if they're waiting for him to get back up. The musky, sweet, iron smell of death curls into their noses.

All those decades of horribleness, of paranoid "civilization maintenance," of bullshit and murder, in the name of building and consolidating power, and it's all over in the pull of the trigger.

Was it worth it, Gene?

Someone needs to say something. Zandra goes first. She struggles to get the words out through her breathing and palpitations.

"OK, ah, so, there are two things we can do here. You all can go ahead with this ritual thing, or you can see this as a chance to stop all this. OK? And I think you all, uh, you all want to make the right choice here," Zandra says.

Glenn starts to reach for the pistol.

"You sure you want your fingerprints on that thing?" Zandra says.

Glenn stops.

A man Zandra recognizes as an executive for a healthcare company speaks up. "We can't just stop."

Blood snakes its way through the dirt toward Zandra's foot. She takes a step back and says, "That's how Gene wanted you to think. He pushed you into all that collusion and corruption to keep out competition, and you never got a chance to stop. This is as clean a break as you'll ever get, and not one of you is responsible for pulling that trigger."