The Legend of
Bastien
By Karen Singer
Chapter 18 – The Critical Calculation –
Part 2 of 2
As
Chrissy climbed back into the truck, he mentally counted the bullets he had
just used. Five. That meant he had only nine left, plus a
bunch he could reload with in his purse.
It was time to head to his next destination.
Compared
to other places, it was a bit of a drive, but there was no place in Bastien
that was really very far. In a few
minutes, the bridge came in sight, along with Deputy Thomas’s pickup truck
parked sideways across the road blocking the bridge. But Chrissy wasn’t interested in going over
that bridge. As he pulled his truck to a
stop, he saw Deputy Thomas getting out of his truck and heading towards
him. Chrissy grabbed his gun and flipped
the safety off as he rolled his window down.
Deputy
Thomas was shocked to see Chrissy there…and especially shocked to see him
driving a truck. He walked up to the
truck as Chrissy lowered the window.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked as he leaned his head down to the
window.
Chrissy
raised his gun and shot him right in his head.
He never bothered getting out of the truck to check the body. One look out the window was enough to tell
him that the Deputy was dead. He turned
his truck around and headed back into town.
Eight bullets and five people left…or more, depending on the situation. So far, he had managed to accomplish
everything he really wanted, but there was no sense in stopping now.
Deputy
Don’s house was the closest. He stopped
in front and went to the door. He saw
the door opening as he walked toward it.
The deputy himself was there.
“Chrissy,
what the hell are you doing? And who’s
truck is that?”
Chrissy
didn’t answer, except to raise his gun and fire it. Deputy Don dropped like a rock. He continued into the house. Deputy Don’s wife was staring at him, screaming. She stopped screaming as he raised the gun
toward her head.
“No!”
she yelled. “Please…don’t!”
But
Chrissy was beyond redemption. He pulled
the trigger, then walked back toward the truck.
Two more bullets used. He had six
bullets left in his gun. The same as a
revolver held. But he had plenty more in
his purse if he needed them.
Deputy
Wyatt answered the door himself…and died a moment later. Five bullets left.
Deputy
Phillip’s wife answered the door. She
died quickly. Chrissy stepped over her
dead body and walked into the house where Deputy Phillip was running toward him
from the kitchen. One bullet and Chrissy
was leaving the house. Three bullets
still in his gun.
Deputy
Steve answered his front door himself, and died just as quickly and easily as
the all the other’s Chrissy had killed.
He didn’t bother with Deputy Steve’s wife. He left her crying over her husband’s body as
he climbed back into his truck. Two
bullets.
Deputy
Will was walking out from his barn when Chrissy pulled his truck into the yard
of the small farm where he lived. Like
he had done at the bridge, Chrissy didn’t even bother getting out of his
truck. He just lowered the window.
“Chrissy!”
Will said as he walked up to the truck.
“What the hell is going on?”
Like
with the others, Chrissy’s only answer was a gunshot to the head. He was gone before Deputy Will’s wife could
get to him.
He
had done it. He had killed them
all. Every last one of them. He had only one bullet left in his gun, and
only one person left that he had to kill.
The most important one of all.
But not yet. He headed home. Back to the tiny pale-yellow house he and his
mother had lived in together for so long.
When
he got to the house, he saw Fred Tucker’s delivery van parked out front. As he stopped in front of that van, his
mother came running out to meet him. He
could tell she was desperate with worry.
He got out of the truck, and she hugged him tightly. “Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’m
fine,” he told her. He looked her in the
face. “I killed them Mom. I killed the Bastiens. All of them.
And I killed the deputies too.
All of them. You’re safe now
Mom. Nobody can hurt you anymore. None of them can hurt anyone anymore.”
She
looked at him, not knowing if she should believe him or not. “Come on in.
I’ll get you something to eat.”
As
they headed for the door, he saw Fred and Betty Tucker in the doorway, waiting
for them. As soon as he got inside, Fred
asked, “What happened?”
The
answer was the same as he had just told his mother. “All the Bastiens are dead now. All of them. All the deputies too. All of them.”
“You
killed them all?” Fred asked in disbelief.
“All
of them,” Chrissy replied. “No one will
have to worry about them again. There’s
none left.”
“I
wonder if we should tell anyone?” Betty asked.
Fred
nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.
I think it’s high time this town saw some real authority for a change.”
“Real
authority? What are you talking about?”
Betty asked.
“The
police outside of here. If he did kill
so many people. Someone outside of
Bastien is going to have to know about it.
And it’s long past time that someone found out what’s been going on
here…for generations!”
“Yes,”
Betty finally agreed. “But I was
thinking maybe…tell some of the people who live here instead.”
“Oh. Yeah.
I guess we should probably do that too.
I’ll head to the sheriff’s office.
I need a phone that can call outside of Bastien. That’s the easiest one to get to. I’ll call the authorities out there, and then
I’ll call….”
“Pomeroy,”
Betty suggested.
“Yeah. Good idea.
Let him spread the word. I’ll be
back as soon as I can.”
As
soon as Fred was gone, Tess headed to the kitchen and Betty followed, leaving
Chrissy standing alone in the living room.
It was time. He had murdered so
many people, but he still had one bullet left in his gun, and one more murder
to commit. The most important murder of
all. Himself.
He
pulled the gun from his purse, and put it to his head. His last thoughts were of his mother as he
pulled the trigger, and heard the gun click.
He quickly made sure the safety was off, and he put the gun to his
temple again and pulled the trigger.
Click. Again and again, he pulled
the trigger, but the gun wouldn’t fire.
There was still one more bullet in it.
He knew. He had counted them
carefully.
Hearing
the odd clicking noise, Tess came out of the kitchen where she could see what
it was. She saw Chrissy with the gun to
his head, pulling the trigger over and over again. “Chrissy!” she yelled desperately as she ran
to him. “No!” She grabbed his arm with the gun and tried to
pull it away from his head, but he fought her, still trying to kill
himself. “No! Let go!” she yelled. Betty was there a moment later, and she too
fought with him to pull his arm away from his head. It took both of them, but they couldn’t pry
the gun out of his hand.
Chrissy
sank down to the floor in tears and his mother enveloped him in a tight hug.
“No
Chrissy. No.” she sobbed.
But
Chrissy’s only response was to bring the gun to his temple again and pull the
trigger, uselessly. He had counted
perfectly. He knew he had. Why wouldn’t it fire?
“No,
Chrissy,” Tess said again. “Don’t! I’ve got you baby. I’ve got you she told him time and again as
she sat on the floor holding him tightly.
--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---
There
were only a few telephones in Bastien that were permitted to call outside of
the community. When Fred needed to call
outside to Bastien for business reasons he always had to go through the Bastien
operator to do that. But he wasn’t sure
if that would be a good idea just now.
He wasn’t too sure about anything that Chrissy had said. He needed a phone that could call directly
out to the outer world around Bastien, and the closest one belonged to the
sheriff. Deciding that would be his best
bet, he drove from Tess’s old house to the sheriff’s office. When he got inside, he stopped for a moment
to stare at the bodies of the sheriff and Deputy Hank. It looked like Chrissy had been telling at
least some of the truth. Doing his best
to ignore the bodies, he went into the sheriff’s inner office and grabbed his
phone.
The
sheriff’s office phone wasn’t like any of the other phones in Bastien. This one had a few buttons on it. One of them was pushed down. Since most phones in Bastien could only call
inside the community, he was guessing that the other button had to be the one
to allow him to call outside the community without the aid of the Bastien phone
operator. He pushed that button, but now
he wasn’t sure who to call. To just
reach the Bastien operator to make outside calls for the store, he usually
dialed zero. Who would he reach if he
did that on this phone line? Hoping it
would get him somewhere, he dialed zero.
“Operator,”
the voice suddenly came back. “How may I
help you?”
It
was a voice he didn’t recognize, which meant it wasn’t from Bastien. “I need the police,” Fred told her.
“Did
you try dialing 9-1-1?” the operator asked.
“9-1-1?”
Fred asked, unfamiliar with the number.
“For
emergencies,” the operator replied.
“Never mind, I’ll connect you.”
A
moment later, Fred heard another woman’s voice.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“This
is Fred Tucker in Bastien,” Fred told her.
“We’ve just had a bunch of murders here in this town. We need…someone to come out and help.”
“How
safe are you right now?” the operator asked.
“I’m
fine. Everyone’s fine. Nobody’s getting hurt anymore. We just need…someone to get out here.”
“Where
did you say you were?”
“Bastien.”
“I’m
sorry, I’ve never heard of it.”
“Can
you just get me in touch with some police or something. Some real police?”
“One
moment,” the operator said. “I’m
checking my computer now. I’m afraid I
don’t see any mention at all of a town called Bastien.”
“Get
me someone from the police to talk to.
Please!” Fred told her.
“One
moment,” the operator replied.
Fred
was getting fed up, but a minute later, a voice came on the line. A man’s voice. “Sergeant Enroy, State patrol. How can I help you?”
“This
is Fred Tucker. My wife and I run the
dry goods store in Bastien. We’ve just
had a lot of people killed here in this town, and I think it would be a good
idea if someone with some kind of authority…real authority…came out here
to at least take a look.”
“Where
did you say it was?” the man asked.
“Bastien. B-A-S-T-I-E-N. Bastien!”
“I’ve
never heard of it. Wait a minute while I
check.”
Fred’s
irritation was increasing.
“I’m
sorry,” Enroy said. “There is no town
called Bastien. You can be arrested for
making calls like this.”
“Fine!”
Fred said. “Arrest me. Just get someone here to take a look!”
“Get
someone where?”
“Bastien! Oh hell!
Tell you what. We send someone
out every day to a few places in Mason for business. Do you know where the Mason post office is?”
“In
Mason? No problem.”
“Then
give me an hour. I’ll drive out there
myself.”
“The
post office in Mason,” Sergeant Enroy stated for clarification.
“Yes! Just give us an hour to get there. It’s a long ride from here. Everywhere is a long ride from here.”
“And
what did you say was the problem there?”
“Murders! A lot of them.”
“What
do you mean by a lot?”
“I
don’t know how many, but I do know the Sheriff, the judge, all the town
deputies, and a lot of others have died today.”
“Did
you say the sheriff there?”
“Yes! That’s why I’m calling you!”
“If
this is a crank call, we will trace you down and prosecute you.”
“Like
I said, fine! I’ll be at the Mason post
office in an hour. Please have someone
there. They can follow me back here.”
“And
how will they know you?”
“My
name is Tucker. Fred Tucker. And like I said, I run the dry goods store
here. My dry goods vehicle is a large
van.”
“Very
well, Mr. Tucker. I’ll have someone meet
you there in an hour.”
“You
might want to send more than one.”
“We’ll
see, Mr. Tucker. I’ve never heard of
Bastien, and there’s no listing of any such place in our records.”
“Somehow,”
Fred replied. “I’m no longer surprised.”
Fred
hung up the phone and pushed the other button on the phone, hoping it would get
him all the Bastien numbers. A moment
later he was rewarded to hear Hugh Pomeroy pick up the phone. “Hugh!”
“Fred? What’s up?”
“I
just came from Chrissy Moore’s house and now I’m in the sheriff’s office. According to Chrissy, he just murdered every
Bastien in the town, and ever deputy as well.”
“That’s
a bit hard to swallow,” Hugh replied.
“True,
but I’m standing in the sheriff’s office right now, and he and Deputy Hank are
definitely dead.”
Pomeroy
was aghast. “You’re joking!”
“Not
one bit! Listen, Pomeroy. I just called the state police.”
“The
state police! I don’t think there’s been
an outside policeman here in my lifetime.”
“I’m
sure there hasn’t. When I called they didn’t
have a record of Bastien even existing.
I had to convince them to meet me at the Mason post office in an
hour. I need to get out there now.”
“What
do you need from me?” Hugh asked.
“Can
you pass the word? According to Chrissy,
the Bastien family doesn’t exist anymore, and neither do the deputies.”
“What
are we going to do?”
“I
haven’t a clue,” Fred told him. “I’m off
now to meet some real police. In Mason. I hope.”
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