FINAL VERS The Secret Outside the City

 

Mastering White Noise through Iron City’s Dylarama

~The Secret Hidden Outside the City~

I

t was after the wounds of Willie Mink had healed that he was discharged. This presented no problem for Jack Gladney, as the memories of Mink were not truthful. However it was only after several months of wandering that Mink finally began to regain his memory.That Dylar research group was stationed in an old cream coloured building, completely from another decade or more. Mink went there more than twelve years since he had last stood in the building after some information gathering. The people within working into the night had noticed him standing outside. What is he doing; where did he come from? Everyone knew.

“Do you need to say something to me,” said the coordinator who went outside.

“I’ve come to see how things are going with the research,” he replied.

“The reason you can’t come in is because I do not allow it. We’ve finished our testing and initial production of the capsule. Your help is not required.”

“I’ll come back soon.”

“That is not a problem at all for us.”

At the small town of Blacksmith, Jack was in a healthy state of mind. Literally brimming with enthusiasm in his renewed work at the university, his house had been renovated and more and more often he went to his lectures without sunglasses oracademic cape. Murray had left the town; more retirees from various backgrounds were coming in to teach, and Jack knew them all.Frequently though, his ‘homicidal rage’ past came back to him. It was not difficult to continue life as though nothing had happened. There were times though, when he hadn’t had such a good day; when the events-that-should-not-have-happened or could-have-been-avoided came back to him.

What was that event?

It happened when Jack went to find the doctor who had led the production of Dylar and in the process carried out his plan of shooting him in the abdomen.

What did Mink do next?

Do People Change

What time was it when Jack opened his eyes, sensing something nearby, a sound, or maybe a wave? Was it this time an even-numbered hour? He saw the room through eyes still asleep. It had been Steffie followed by Wilder who were making the sounds and wanted him to wake. Slipping quietly out of bed, Jack was beckoned by the two to follow. They walked into the hall and toward the window  that looks out on their backyard. Barefoot and robeless, Jack felt another chill pass through his pyjamas. It seemed to him that a whole life was spent standing there in his visually unappealing clothes. Was it midday already? Were those drilling sounds from a gun and not from a worksite?

There was someone pacing around the backyard. A grey-haired man with a slightly hunched back, a figure of frantic movement. At first, overwhelmed by sleep,  he didn’t know what to make of the sight. It seemed to need a more relaxed interpretation than was able to be provided. There seemed to be a purpose, a reason why he had come here, thought Jack. Fear entered his mind, clenched at his chest and thudded his heart. Who was it, what was happening? He realized that Steffie and Wilder had disappeared. Their footsteps came through from the distance, a tail of a reverb, a freeze in the system; something to do with latency.

No voice from above came. Nothing.

He didn’t know procedures; maybe even felt cold, he gripped knobs and rails, as if they acted as a reminder to the nature and being of reality. The man outside lay on the grass now, obviously tired, while Jack waited. He was himself and someone else. He went to the kitchen. He looked through the window. The man was still lying on the wet grass. He opened the inner door, then the storm door. He went outside, simultaneously grabbing a pole that lay on the ground. The storm door slammed shut; the pole clanged on the ground. The man’s head jerked, got up, and turned in his direction. The previous sense, the aura, and feeling melted, while a second figure emerged from the ruins. The familiar traits of a person Jack had shot. It was not a ‘stranger’ that stood before Jack but only Willie Mink. Mr Gray.

“Was I asleep?” Mink said.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“What for?”

“I want to apologise.”

“It’s alright, it’s not necessary.”

“I also want to learn the truth; why did you come to my place and why was I shot?”

“It’s thirteen years since the incident; you’ve had your share of troubles and I’ve had mine. I don’t have time to talk or think about you. Please leave.”

“Why not meet me at the station at the I21 highway, we can take a walk.

It was the perfect site to enjoy a walk. The bus station itself had a hard metallic seat from which the highway could be viewed. Express buses would stop there at hours during the morning and afternoon. But there were no buses stopping at night. Mink showed Jack the places he’d spent the night in. No awkwardness could be felt here. They walked toward a small town. A small store serving drinks appeared out of the brown light; it was evening already. Mink went to purchase the drinks. Swiftly he dumped liquid Dylar into the open bottle. Jack was at the table. They drank while watching old cars and bicycles pass by.

Heinrich saw Jack’s note on the table. He told his family who were having lunch. Babette was not at home. Heinrich’s sisters called the police. Heinrich didn’t stay put though, and caught the bus to the town Jack was in. By this time, the sky was growing grey. Mink covered his mouth laughing, watching Jack also laugh. Jack no longer had the ability to fear. Their noise reached Heinrich, who was running in various directions to locate his father.

Heinrich kicked Mink in a vulnerable spot and then said “I’ll get you home.”

Heinrich pulled Mink to a store where they could inform the police of to pick him up. Heinrich accompanied his father and walked all night. Jack’s Dylar effect grew weaker and they arrived home at midnight.

The voice from above reported a Willie Mink to have drowned in a local river.

What had he planned to do?