Paint It All Red (Mindf*ck #5)(29)
“What the hell are you doing?” Sheriff Cannon barks, slapping his hand on the driver’s side window of a car.
The man cracks the window an inch. “I’m getting my family out of this damn town before you drag us all to hell for what you’ve done.”
My lips twitch. They’re abandoning their captain.
“Looks like they’re more scared of us than the sheriff now,” Jake gloats. “Finally standing up to him.”
“By comparison, the sheriff now seems insignificant to a monster who sees all, hears all, and knows all.”
“It’s just one fucking person! Stay and defend this town!” the sheriff snaps to the guy.
We knew they’d abandon him. They’ve heard it all, but until today, they’ve never seen it.
Jake nudges me with his elbow, and I look at his phone’s screen which is diagonal from the sheriff’s location. On the back of the old gym’s wall, a message appears as though Jake timed this all too perfectly.
One person cannot change the world. But one person can strike terror into multitudes.
—Robert Evans
The man in the car sees the message, probably thinking something supernatural is going on, giving the timeliness of the message’s appearance. He gasses the car, driving away from the sheriff, and almost sideswiping another vehicle in the process.
“Find that fucker now!” the sheriff barks, giving up his endeavor of stopping the rats who are fleeing the sinking ship.
“Heat signatures have a flurry of motion right now, but we still need to up the game if we’re going to get everyone out,” Jake says as more and more messages start to appear throughout the town.
With everyone distracted with Logan’s team and our little special broadcast, we ran around town, hurriedly painting the messages with the faster paint. Jake painted some last night with the slower paint.
I’m still wearing my damn harness from all the drop-downs I did to paint the messages high, making them as visible as possible.
You can do a lot in forty minutes when you have a plan and a goal.
On the church, a massive message appears.
Any demon is capable of cruelty, but only an angel is majestic enough to rain down vengeance for the innocent.
—Marcus Evans
Jake smirks as people running by stumble over their own feet, seeing that message appear like magic. They were actually inside the church when I painted that earlier.
Jake swipes his screen, letting me see the newest one appear on the side of the school.
Little eyes see. Little eyes learn. Be a good example for all the little eyes watching you. They’re everywhere.
—Jasmine Evans
Out of context and written in red paint, that message is creepy.
More people panic, more people abandon the town, taking only the essentials before locking their families in the car. I even see some people sprinkling salt in their vehicles as though it’ll keep the devil away during their trip ahead.
I flip my screen, letting Jake look on with me as another message appears on the side of the town hall.
The wicked can fake nobility, just as the damned can fake innocence. But only the truth will rise from the ashes when we all start to burn.
—Victoria Evans
More panic. More fleeing.
Jake pops up his app, showing me all the heat signatures still in town.
“Turn on the broadcasting system and cut screens to all the chaos; show the messages too.”
He smirks, and he starts doing just that, streaming the footage live through the channel. I love hearing the sheriff demand that station be cut off. We’ve already taken all precautions to halt that action. Well, Jake has. I’m an idiot with tech stuff.
My role is to slaughter; his role is to do all the geek stuff.
Killer and geek seems like an odd combination, but the screams we’ve composed from the town make an intoxicating melody.
Several messages appear, all of them sliding up and down the town. People try to read them while running, unable to stop themselves from seeing what we have to say, ironically enough.
A wise man knows when the war is lost, and will understand retreat is the only way to save lives. A foolish man will condemn all his followers to death because of his pride.
—Robert Evans
Everyone knows that’s geared toward the sheriff, and let’s face it, no one but his deputies are willing to die for him. The few strays that will join his side will be the ones he’s used on the side to keep people in line without tying it to the department—just like with Cheyenne last night.
I’m not going to discriminate and leave them out of the slaughter if they so choose to join him now.
If hatred didn’t exist, love wouldn’t either, for one is formed by the other. I love and hate this town.
—Marcus Evans
I believe the souls of the wrongfully persecuted often haunt our world, bringing the same grief they feel from beyond the grave.
—Jasmine Evans
“It’s time for the bell drop,” Jake says, almost shaking with anticipation.
He’s the master of timing, so he should be proud.
He presses a button on his phone, and a mild, contained explosion happens at the top of the church tower. The bell groans and wines before it crashes through the rock. We watch it in real time, not needing a screen to see it plummet to the street.