Under the Dome

“You wildly overestimate my triage skills,” Barbie said, but he walked toward Rusty.

Linda Everett ran past Barbie and threw herself into Rusty’s arms. He gave her a brief hug. “Can I help, honey?” she asked. It was Ginny she was looking at, and with horror. Ginny saw the look and wearily closed her eyes.

“No,” Rusty said. “You do what you need to. I’ve got Gina and Harriet, and I’ve got Nurse Barbara.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Barbie said, and almost added: Until I’m arrested, that is.

“You’ll be fine,” Rusty said. In a lower voice he added, “Gina and Harriet are the most willing helpers in the world, but once they get past giving pills and slapping on Band-Aids, they’re pretty much lost.”

Linda bent to Ginny. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

“I’ll be fine,” Ginny said, but she did not open her eyes.

Linda gave her husband a kiss and a troubled look, then walked back toward where Jackie Wettington was standing with a pad in her hand, taking Ernie Calvert’s statement. Ernie wiped his eyes repeatedly as he talked.

Rusty and Barbie worked side by side for over an hour, while the cops strung yellow police tape in front of the market. At some point, Andy Sanders came down to survey the damage, clucking and shaking his head. Barbie heard him ask someone what the world was coming to, when hometown folks could get up to a thing like this. He also shook Chief Randolph’s hand and told him he was doing a hell of a job.

Hell of a job.

14

When you’re feeling it, lousy breaks disappear. Strife becomes your friend. Bad luck turns hit-the-Megabucks good. You do not accept these things with gratitude (an emotion reserved for wimps and losers, in Big Jim Rennie’s opinion) but as your due. Feeling it is like riding in a magic swing, and one should (once more in Big Jim’s opinion) glide imperiously.

If he had emerged from the big old Rennie manse on Mill Street a little later or a little earlier, he would not have seen what he did, and he might have dealt with Brenda Perkins in an entirely different way. But he came out at exactly the right time. That was how it went when you were feeling it ; the defense collapsed and you rushed through the magical hole thus created, making the easy layup.

It was the chanted cries of Oh-pun UP! Oh-pun UP! that got him out of his study, where he had been making notes for what he planned to call the Disaster Administration… of which cheerful, grinning Andy Sanders would be the titular head and Big Jim would be the power behind the throne. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it was Rule One in Big Jim’s political operating manual, and having Andy out front always worked like a charm. Most of Chester’s Mill knew he was an idiot, but it didn’t matter. You could run the same game on people over and over, because ninety-eight percent of them were even bigger idiots. And although Big Jim had never planned a political campaign on such a grand scale—it amounted to a municipal dictatorship—he had no doubt it would work.

He hadn’t included Brenda Perkins in his list of possible complicating factors, but no matter. When you were feeling it, complicating factors had a way of disappearing. This you also accepted as your due.

He walked down the sidewalk to the corner of Mill and Main, a distance of no more than a hundred paces, with his belly swinging placidly before him. The Town Common was directly across the way. A little farther down the hill on the other side of the street were the Town Hall and the PD, with War Memorial Plaza in between.

He couldn’t see Food City from the corner, but he could see all of the Main Street business section. And he saw Julia Shumway. She came hurrying out of the Democrat ’s office, a camera in one hand. She jogged down the street toward the sound of the chanting, trying to sling the camera over her shoulder while on the move. Big Jim watched her. It was funny, really—how anxious she was to get to the latest disaster.

It got funnier. She stopped, turned, jogged back, tried the newspaper office’s door, found it open, and locked it. Then she hurried off once more, anxious to watch her friends and neighbors behaving badly.

She is realizing for the first time that once the beast is out of its cage, it could bite anyone, anywhere, Big Jim thought. But don’t worry, Julia—I’ll take care of you, just as I always have. You may have to tone down that tiresome rag of yours, but isn’t that a small price to pay for safety?

Of course it was. And if she persisted…

“Sometimes stuff happens,” Big Jim said. He was standing on the corner with his hands in his pockets, smiling. And when he heard the first screams… the sound of breaking glass… the gunshots… his smile widened. Stuff happens wasn’t exactly how Junior put it, but Big Jim reckoned it was close enough for government w—

His smile folded into a frown as he spotted Brenda Perkins. Most of the people on Main Street were heading toward Food City to see what all the ruckus was about, but Brenda was walking up Main Street instead of down. Maybe even up to the Rennie house… which would mean up to no good.

What could she want with me this morning? What could be so important it trumps a food riot at the local supermarket?

It was entirely possible he was the last thing on Brenda’s mind, but his radar was pinging and he watched her closely.

She and Julia passed on opposite sides of the street. Neither noticed the other. Julia was trying to run while managing her camera. Brenda was staring at the red ramshackle bulk of Burpee’s Department Store. She had a canvas carrier-bag that swung at her knee.

When she reached Burpee’s, Brenda tried the door with no success. Then she stood back and glanced around the way people do when they’ve hit an unexpected obstacle to their plans and are trying to decide what to do next. She might still have seen Shumway if she’d looked behind her, but she didn’t. Brenda looked left, right, then across Main Street, at the offices of the Democrat.

After another look at Burpee’s, she crossed to the Democrat and tried that door. Also locked, of course; Big Jim had watched Julia do it. Brenda tried it again, rattling the knob for good measure. She knocked. Peered in. Then she stood back, hands on hips, carrier-bag dangling. When she once more started up Main Street—trudging, no longer looking around—Big Jim retreated to his house at a brisk pace. He didn’t know why he wanted to make sure Brenda didn’t see him watching… but he didn’t have to know. You only had to act on your instincts when you were feeling it. That was the beauty of the thing.

What he did know was that if Brenda knocked on his door, he would be ready for her. No matter what she wanted.

15

Tomorrow morning I want you to take the printout to Julia Shumway, Barbie had told her. But the Democrat ’s office was locked and dark. Julia was almost certainly at whatever mess was going on at the market. Pete Freeman and Tony Guay probably were, too.

So what was she supposed to do with Howie’s VADER file? If there had been a mail slot, she might have slipped the manila envelope in her carrier-bag through it. Only there was no mail slot.

Brenda supposed she should either go find Julia at the market or return home to wait until things quieted down and Julia came back to her office. Not being in a particularly logical mood, neither choice appealed. As to the former, it sounded like a full-scale riot was going on at Food City, and Brenda did not want to get sucked in. As to