Under the Dome

company van was parked, nose out. Ernie, Jackie, and Rommie Burpee sat listening to the National Anthem coming from up the street. Jackie felt a sting behind her eyes and saw that she wasn’t the only one who was moved; Ernie, sitting behind the wheel, had produced a handkerchief from his back pocket and was dabbing at his eyes with it.

“Guess we won’t need Linda to give us a heads-up,” Rommie said. “I didn’t expect them speakers. They didn’t get em from me.”

“It’s still good for people to see her there,” Jackie said. “Got your mask, Rommie?”

He held up Dick Cheney’s visage, stamped in plastic. In spite of his extensive stock, Rommie hadn’t been able to provide Jackie with an Ariel mask; she had settled for Harry Potter’s chum, Hermione. Ernie’s Darth Vader mask was behind the seat, but Jackie thought they’d probably be in trouble if he actually had to put it on. She had not said this aloud.

And really, what does it matter? When we’re suddenly not around town anymore, everybody’s going to have a good idea why we’re gone.

But suspecting wasn’t the same as knowing, and if suspicion was the best Rennie and Randolph could do, the friends and relatives they were leaving behind might be subjected to no more than harsh questioning.

Might. Under circumstances like these, Jackie realized, that was a mighty big word.

The anthem ended. There was more applause, and then the town’s Second Selectman began to speak. Jackie checked the pistol she was carrying—it was her extra—and thought that the next few minutes were probably going to be the longest of her life.

18

Barbie and Rusty stood at the doors of their respective cells, listening as Big Jim launched into his speech. Thanks to the speakers outside the main doors of the Town Hall, they could hear pretty well.

“Thank you! Thank you, one and all! Thank you for coming! And thank you for being the bravest, toughest, can-do-ingest people in these United States of America!”

Enthusiastic applause.

“Ladies and gentlemen… and kiddies, too, I see a few of those in the audience….”

Good-natured laughter.

“We are in a terrible predicament here. This you know. Tonight I intend to tell you how we got into it. I don’t know everything, but I will share what I know, because you deserve that. When I’ve finished putting you in the picture, we have a brief but important agenda to go through. But first and foremost, I want to tell you how PROUD I am of you, how HUMBLED I am to be the man God—and you—have chosen to be your leader at this critical juncture, and I want to ASSURE you that together we will come through this trial, together and with God’s help we will emerge STRONGER and TRUER and BETTER than we ever were before! We may be Israelites in the desert now—”

Barbie rolled his eyes and Rusty made a jacking-off gesture with his fist.

“—but soon we will reach CANAAN and the feast of milk and honey which the Lord and our fellow Americans will surely set before us!”

Wild applause. It sounded like a standing O. Fairly certain that even if there was a bug down here, the three or four cops upstairs would now be clustered in the PD doorway, listening to Big Jim, Barbie said: “Be ready, my friend.”

“I am,” Rusty said. “Believe me, I am.”

Just as long as Linda’s not one of them planning to bust in, he thought. He didn’t want her killing anyone, but more than that, he didn’t want her to risk being killed. Not for him. Let her stay right where she is. He may be crazy, but at least if she’s with the rest of the town, she’s safe.

That was what he thought before the gunfire started.

19

Big Jim was exultant. He had them exactly where he wanted them: in the palm of his hand. Hundreds of people, those who had voted for him and those who hadn’t. He had never seen so many in this hall, not even when school prayer or the school budget was under discussion. They sat thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, outside as well as in, and they were doing more than listening to him. With Sanders AWOL and Grinnell sitting in the audience (that red dress in the third row was hard to miss), he owned this crowd. Their eyes begged him to take care of them. To save them. What completed his exultancy was having his bodyguard beside him and seeing the lines of cops—his cops—ranged along both sides of the hall. Not all of them were kitted out in uniforms yet, but all were armed. At least a hundred more in the audience were wearing blue armbands. It was like having his own private army.

“My fellow townspeople, most of you know that we have arrested a man named Dale Barbara—”

A storm of boos and hisses arose. Big Jim waited for it to subside, outwardly grave, inwardly grinning.

“—for the murders of Brenda Perkins, Lester Coggins, and two lovely girls we all knew and loved: Angie McCain and Dodee Sanders.”

More boos, interspersed with cries of “Hang him!” and “Terrorist!” The terrorist-shouter sounded like Velma Winter, the day manager at Brownie’s Store.

“What you do not know,” Big Jim continued, “is that the Dome is the result of a conspiracy perpetrated by an elite group of rogue scientists and covertly funded by a government splinter group. We are guinea pigs in an experiment, my fellow townspeople, and Dale Barbara was the man designated to chart and guide that experiment’s course from the inside! ”

Stunned silence greeted this. Then there was a roar of outrage.

When it had quieted, Big Jim continued, hands planted on either side of the podium, his large face shining with sincerity (and, perhaps, hypertension). His speech lay in front of him, but it was still folded. There was no need to look at it. God was using his vocal cords and moving his tongue.

“When I speak of covert funding, you may wonder what I mean. The answer is horrifying but simple. Dale Barbara, aided by an as yet unknown number of townspeople, set up a drug-manufacturing facility which has been supplying huge quantities of crystal methamphetamine to drug lords, some with CIA connections, all up and down the Eastern Seaboard. And although he hasn’t given us the names of all his co-conspirators yet, one of them—it breaks my heart to tell you this—appears to be Andy Sanders.”

Hubbub and cries of wonder from the audience. Big Jim saw Andi Grinnell start to rise from her seat, then settle back. That’s right, he thought, just sit there. If you’re reckless enough to question me, I’ll eat you alive. Or point my finger at you and accuse you. Then they’ll eat you alive.

And in truth, he felt as if he could do that.

“Barbara’s boss—his control—is a man you have all seen on the news. He claims to be a colonel in the U.S. Army, but in fact he is high in the councils of the scientists and government officials responsible for this Satanic experiment. I have Barbara’s confession to this much right here.” He tapped his sportcoat, whose inner pocket contained his wallet and a digest-sized New Testament with the words of Christ printed in red.

Meanwhile, more cries of “Hang him!” had arisen. Big Jim lifted one hand, head lowered, face grave, and the cries eventually stilled.

“We will vote on Barbara’s punishment as a town—one unified body dedicated to the cause of freedom. It’s in your hands, ladies and gentlemen. If you vote to execute, he will be executed. But there will be no hanging while I am your leader. He will be executed by police firing squad—”