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“That wasn’t thunder,” he said, and as if to emphasize his words they could all see the plume of fire and smoke that rose from just north of town.
The third explosion knocked out the lights.
4
Vic’s plan for the opening event of the Red Wave was meticulous. Ten seconds after the power plant blew, the TV and radio stations went next, then the phone company. Some of Ruger’s sharper soldiers were detailed to toss Molotov cocktails into the backs of the news trucks, and among the first victims to be torn down were the reporters doing stand-ups along the parade route. Some fragments of footage got out, but everyone was in costume and nothing would make sense, no matter how many times the techs back at the regional offices ran the playback. The cell towers were next on the list.
By the time all that was happening, at least one tourist in fifteen was feeling the first effects of the massive doses of the psychedelic drugs in the candy. Confusion was a tool, and Vic was a master craftsman.
5
Magician Rod Leigh-Evans was having a bad night. The motor on his big electric table saw conked out during dress rehearsal and the whole trick had to be scrapped, which sucked because it was the centerpiece of his act. That meant that he had twelve minutes to fill with no major routines. He rushed home to get some of his older, less exciting tricks out of his garage. Stuff the crowd had probably seen a hundred times, but it was all he had left.
It didn’t matter that his assistant, the Incredible Wanda, had called him from an ER in Abington where she was having her foot stitched up following what she called “a bathroom misadventure. ” Wanda declined to explain what that meant.
Stuck for an assistant, Leigh-Evans badgered one of the Festival staff to take Wanda’s place. The only staff member not assigned to something that couldn’t be switched was Chris Maddish, a young man hired to translate for a group of Japanese tourists whose plane was delayed in Chicago. When Leigh-Evans explained that Chris would have to go on as the Incredible Wanda there was one hell of an argument. Two hundred dollars later Maddish was squeezed into Wanda’s dress and wig. All things considered, Leigh-Evans thought, the kid looked better as a sexy woman than Wanda ever did; but the bribe money meant that the magician was now doing this gig for free.
When the show started, it was a rolling disaster. Some of the scarf tricks were so old the material was disintegrating during the performance, so he tried to sidestep into shtick as if being the world’s worst magician was all part of the show. The audience looked uncertain because he had started well and you can’t change a theme after you’ve set the expectations of the audience.
The rabbit he pulled out of the hat peed on his cummerbund—which at least got a laugh out of the audience, though he was pretty sure they weren’t laughing with him. Then he segued into a trick that at least promised a nice visual—one of the appearing dove tricks. Doves were pretty and they didn’t pee on you.
The trick here was to have the Incredible Wanda hold a wooden platform that was an inch thick and thirteen inches square, blow up a balloon, place it in the center of the platform, do some hand waving, and then pop the balloon to reveal the dove. All very clever, all pretty easy, but with popping the colorful balloon and the serenity of the cooing dove, it had very nice sounds and visuals.
The crowd, already restive, barely paid attention while Leigh-Evans ranted through his patter and did the hand gestures, but halfway during the trick Chris dropped the platform. The sound of it hitting the stage silenced the crowd, but also drew their complete attention. None of them had ever seen a magic act as overwhelmingly bad as this. The magician was horrified because of what was inside the platform.
He started again, his voice breaking on a couple of the lines in the patter and his hand gestures looking a bit less assured. When he popped the balloon and cried, “Voilà!” the crowd stared at the dove.
Instead of cooing and flapping its wings, the dove flopped dead onto the stage, rolled once, and then fell off the platform into the popcorn cup of a seven-year-old girl. Who screamed.
“Well,” the magician thought as the crowd started screaming, “at least it can’t any worse. ”
All of this took place on a small stage in front of the town’s electrical power substation, which then blew up.
6
Deep beneath the mud and muck of the swamp, Ubel Griswold felt the explosions vibrate through the bones of the earth. He opened his mouth and howled with delight as the Red Wave began.
Chapter 39
1
Crow and LaMastra made it back to the base of the pitch in less than an hour. If it had been a straight run it would have been fifteen minutes, but the terrain was cluttered with roots and rocks. Even so, they hit the pitch at full tilt and the two ATVs swept up the steep hill and leapt over the edge like dune buggies, landing hard and slewing around to kick dust pillars in the parking lot. They didn’t even bother to switch off the bikes, and instead leapt off and ran for Crow’s car, piled in, and went screaming out of the Passion Pit in a spray of gravel, jouncing and bouncing along the rutted length of Dark Hollow Road.
At the crossroads Crow spun the wheel to put them on A-32. There were plenty of cars on the road—some heading toward town, most racing away from it at dangerous speeds. Then a huge rolling BOOM! buffeted them from behind and LaMastra twisted around in his seat to see a massive fireball plume up behind the farthest hills.
“What the Christ was that?” Crow demanded, steering in and out of traffic with no regard for blaring horns. Many of the cars on the outbound side of the road were slowing or pulling off onto the verge. There were several rear-end collisions as drivers gaped at the fireball.
“Something big just blew the hell up. What’s down that way?”
“Just the bridge. ”
LaMastra turned back around. “Maybe not. ”
Before Crow could reply his cell phone rang and he steered one-handed while he dug it out of his pocket.
“Crow! My God…tell me you’re okay!”
“Val, honey, I’m okay. Are you okay? What the hell’s happening? Everyone seems to be trying to get out of town?”
