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Conspiricy novel about an anarchist known only as Grey Fox. |
| There was an air of excitement on this December afternoon as thick snowflakes pelted the ground outside the Minnesota Mall of America. It was fast approaching the big day now, so families were busy trolley dashing through stores to get the best deal on their friends’ and family’s Christmas list. The apparel worn was appropriate to the freezing temperatures outside and it was mandatory for everyone to wear at least three layers. Those smart enough also wore a variety of hats, scarves and gloves; both colourful and functional. In the main atrium, Jolene and her husband Kevin were sat outside Starbucks drinking hot cocoa. It was an elaborate place… An enormous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its precious metal glittering as it reflected the fancy lighting. The fake palm trees that populated the place in summer had been replaced with a huge Norwegian Fir tree, complete with giant prop presents piled up underneath it. As always, there was a Santa’s Grotto, with a considerable queue. The place was simply bustling with Christmas Spirit. Jolene broke the silence between her partner. “The kids’ll be enjoying Santa in there by now.” “Yeah, and he’s sure got a huge Christmas list this year for those two. I don’t think he’ll able to get a private jet down the chimney.” They both chuckled, wide grins on their faces. “And he’ll have trouble finding a unicorn for Lillian,” added Jolene, giggling. She started to shiver, because she had taken her coat off when her children had assaulted her with snowballs outside. Kevin smiled and wrapped his coat around her. She groaned in relief from the sudden warmth the fur coat gave her. “Thanks, hon,” She said and smiled. Her light-hearted grin soon turned to a concerned frown. “I hope the kids are alright,” she said to the floor. Kevin furrowed his brow and relaxed in his seat. “I’m sure they’re fine. They’re in good hands,” he reassured. “I hope so,” she replied, pursing her lips in anxiety. Over the course of a few minutes, Jolene began to fidget nervously in her seat, not touching her cocoa. She kept crossing alternate legs and shuffling in her seat, as if trying to get comfortable. “I’m going to go and check on them,” she stated and stood up sharply. Kevin sat up. “They’ll be fine. No need to worry,” he said. She backed away from him as he said this. “No, no… I have to make sure. I’m anxious now. I won’t be long,” she replied and trotted off before Kevin had a chance to answer. “Jolene!” He called… But she was already gone and out of earshot, and his shouts were drowned out by the crowd. Kevin was never one to worry. He always kept his head even when things seemed most desperate, so he simply sat back in his chair and relaxed, slurping the hot cocoa for warmth. “Wish I kept that coat,” he muttered, shivering and folding his arms. Several minutes had passed, now, and Kevin tried to stay calm by reading his newspaper. It was the usual scaremongering stuff… People panic buying food from Supermarkets in case of a shortage due to the snow, another case of Swine Flu, terrorist threat was yellow to-. Suddenly, there was a huge bang, which threw Kevin back off his chair. Screams echoed all around the place as he lay on the floor groaning, with a broken arm. He managed to raise his head to look around. The Grotto was in flames. “No!” He screamed in utter heartbreak, sure that his family had perished. At least a hundred bodies littered the floor, some horribly disfigured from the blast. The chandelier had crashed from the ceiling, crushing people and the fir tree lay snapped and on its side. Blood trickled down Kevin’s cheek as survivors fled from the scene. “No… No…!” He called through the sudden silence that juxtaposed the bombing. Only a few people groaned back. Sirens called in the distance. After a few minutes he heard loud footsteps approaching the atrium fast, and his ears were still ringing from the bombing. He was growing faint now as the blood trickled down his face. A large part of him wished he would die, and he hated… No, detested himself for letting his wife go to that grotto. But what if he had let her go sooner? She might have gotten the children out in time before the blast. “What if…? “But…?” “Why…?” … Were the questions that rang through his head, all of them somehow beating him up. A rescue team of about fifty charged into the atrium, including firefighters, Armed Response Officers and paramedics. The police helped to close off the area with yellow tape before charging into the rest of the mall to seize power. The word of the medics was proving grim. Most of what they did was check pulses and immediately put the victims in body bags, but Kevin managed to shout “Help!”. A nearby medic heard him and called the rest of her team over to help. “We’re going to get you out of here, okay?” “Stay with us!” “Doc, we’re losing him…” Kevin closed his eyes, his arm lying limp. His sense of sound faded to nothing. “Jolene… Jo…” He whispered before a cold embrace wrapped itself around him. “Get the paddles.” A blonde haired medic said. She was almost immediately handed a defib unit. “One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand.” “Shocking.” Kevin’s chest jolted, but there was no breathing. “He’s not responding. Do it again.” “One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand.” “Shocking.” Again, no response other than a feeble jolt. After five minutes of this they realised that there was no hope for him. He had simply lost too much blood to be resuscitated. “I think we should stop,” said the woman who had been desperately trying to revive him. “Aye,” was the general response of her team. She checked her watch: “Time of death… 3:42pm.” The medics seemed to fall silent for a moment, as a sign of respect, before placing the body in a black bag and zipping it up. “Come on, there may be more survivors…” But there weren’t many at all. Not in the atrium at least. Up on the second level that overlooked the atrium, all was silent apart from the faint “Clear left, clear right!” calls of the ARU sweeping the mall. It was a very still scene, and the dust from the blast lightly gleamed in the light. Once he was sure everything was silent, a man emerged from a GameStop he had been taking cover behind. He was wearing a black suit and tie, with smart dress trousers to match. There was also a silver Rolex watch on his left wrist. He approached the side of the railing which overlooked the atrium and scanned the scene of devastation. A smug smile swept his face. “Merry Christmas, motherfuckers,” he said bitterly before tucking a detonator into his pocket and sprinting down the corridors. The place was draped with Christmas decorations in every shop window, but the red was all discoloured from the choking dust. The formally dressed man coughed harshly before charging into a red door marked “Roof Access.” He sprinted up the stairs, gasping for breath, spurred on by the fact that he would soon taste fresh air and freedom. As he crashed through the door an air ambulance greeted him, deafeningly ready for take off… But it wasn’t paramedics that welcomed him. Instead, three suited men with submachine guns beckoned him over. “Jared, hurry up!” One bearded man said. As they boarded the helicopter, one of the men met his eyes. “How did it go?” “No survivors,” Jared replied. Suddenly there was an outburst of laughter that Jared did not partake in. The bearded man placed his hand on Jared’s shoulder. “Grey Fox will be pleased. You did America a great service today.” Jared merely nodded as they flew over the skyline. |
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