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Leland watches them, eyes wide, breath held.
Cade lingers at her desk, balled up tissue held at her face, uncertain and quiet.
As Kyle surveys the energy in this room, he wonders if the police chief is right. He considers if he should listen and see it his way. Crawl back into a hole, deep in the shadows, away from the scrutiny of others, away from human beings.
Away from the light.
“If another one of you shows up,” says the chief, his words gaining confidence, “he could be someone who would not have protected my son. He would have rather sucked the blood right out of my son’s neck, every last drop, leaving just bones. That what you want for my boy? For my Jeremy?”
Kyle closes his eyes. His jaw is clenched so tight, his teeth feel like they’re shaking. Why does every decision feel wrong? Why does he both respect and despise the words coming out of the police chief’s mouth right now?
“I believe we …” Kyle stops, takes a breath, and faces the chief. “I believe we may be surprised with what’s out there. I’m not convinced we’re all evil. The first one I met, he despised violence outright. He was a little peculiar, sure, kind of odd … but wouldn’t you be if you were around for a hundred years with no friends?”
“The hell you talking about? There are more of you?”
“He’s the only other one I’ve ever known. He’s gone now, walked into the morning sun, couldn’t bear another moment of existence. That could be me right now. I … I don’t want to feel that way ever again.” He glances at the chief one last time, pain in his eyes. “That’s why I have to do this.”
The moment the chief prepares to growl something back at Kyle, Cade steps forward. “I get you, Kyle,” she hurriedly says. “I know what you want to do. And … I want to support you.”
The chief spins on her. “Cadence!”
“I’m just reminding you, you can take all the time you need before opening that door. Gather your thoughts. Think it all through. Once you go out there and say what you’ve gotta say, well, there’s sure as shit no turning back.” She meets his eyes. “So … boss to employee … friend to friend … be absolutely sure you know what you want to do. You can hide in here as long as you need before you open that door.”
Kyle and Cade exchange a long and meaningful look that speaks volumes of what they can’t say out loud in front of their present company.
Finally, he smiles. “Thanks, Cade, but … I think I’ve been hiding behind doors long enough.”
The chief trembles, furious.
Leland stares at Kyle in wonder, wringing his hands.
Cade, after a moment’s hesitation, finally nods. “Well then. What else can we say?” She steps back. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Kyle gives one last look at her, then the police chief, who looks like he’s on the verge of either drawing his gun, crying, or shitting his pants, possibly all three. But the chief mercifully does none of those things as Kyle faces the door, takes a breath, then pulls it open to brave the people of Nowhere.
He quickly realizes Cade was being kind about the crowd. It isn’t just a lot of people. It’s damned near everyone in town. Even Ricardo, who was spooked from the sight of him on the street, stands near the jukebox with some friends, the music drowned out by the noise. Even the curly-haired sisters who run the old bakery are here, and the bushy-haired teenager who flips burgers down the street. The café owner who cries into his drinks when things go bad with his wife—as well as his wife. A dozen people at the booths, noisily gossiping away. And many more at the bar, where Becks doles out drink after drink.
It takes about eleven seconds before everyone realizes who just stepped out of the office. Everything grows still and quiet. In the background, the music from the jukebox is the only thing that can be heard, playing “Sympathy for the Devil”.
Kyle hasn’t had this much attention his whole life. Not a single moment has been spent in any semblance of a spotlight.
And now here he stands, feeling like a small thing before a mountain of deadly challenges.
To all of that, Kyle lifts a small hand, smiles at the room, and says, “Hi.”
No one responds back.
Fourteen excruciating seconds later, the song comes to an end, and even the jukebox decides to join the rest of the crowd with the sheer, impregnable silence.
“You all have questions,” states Kyle, still feeling small. He tries to sound more confident. It doesn’t work. “I know. I want to, uh, answer them. T-To put you at ease. As best as I can.” Kyle awkwardly adjusts his weight from one leg to the other. The floor groans in response. “I guess all I’ll say is …”
