Under the Dome

She moved slightly, blocking Thibodeau’s line of sight to Jackie with her body… although there was no real need. Thibodeau was otherwise occupied with trying to peek under the edge of his bandage.

Jackie glanced back to make sure she was clear, then pointed to the bowl, turned her hands up, and raised her eyebrows: Sorry. After that she pointed two fingers at Barbie. Pay attention.

He nodded.

“Enjoy it, fuckstick,” Jackie said. “We’ll get you something better at noon. I’m thinking pissburger.”

From the stairs, where he was now picking at the edges of the bandage, Thibodeau gave a bark of laughter.

“If you’ve got any teeth left to eat it with,” Linda said.

Barbie wished she had kept silent. She didn’t sound sadistic, or even angry. She only sounded scared, a woman who wished to be anywhere but here. Thibodeau, however, didn’t seem to notice. He was still investigating the state of his shoulder.

“Come on,” Jackie said. “I don’t want to watch him eat.”

“That wet enough for you?” Thibodeau asked. He stood up as the women came down the corridor between the cells to the stairs, Linda reholstering her weapon. “Cause if it’s not…” He hawked back phlegm.

“I’ll make do,” Barbie said.

“Course you will,” Thibodeau said. “For a while. Then you won’t.”

They went up the stairs. Thibodeau went last, and gave Jackie a whack on the butt. She laughed and slapped at him. She was good, a lot better than the Everett woman. But they had both just shown plenty of guts. Fearsome guts.

Barbie picked the booger off the Special K and flicked it toward the corner he’d pissed in. He wiped his hands on his shirt. Then he began to dig down through the cereal. At the bottom, his fingers found a slip of paper.

Try to make it until tomorrow night. If we can get you out can you think of a safe place. You know what to do with this.

Barbie did.

25

An hour after he ate the note and then the cereal, heavy footsteps slowly descended the stairs. It was Big Jim Rennie, already dressed in a suit and a tie for another day of under-the-Dome administration. He was followed by Carter Thibodeau and another fellow—a Killian, judging by the shape of his head. The Killian boy was carrying a chair, and making difficulties with it; he was what old-time Yankees would have called “a gormy lad.” He handed the chair to Thibodeau, who placed it in front of the cell at the end of the corridor.

Rennie sat down, delicately tweezing his pantslegs first to preserve the crease.

“Good morning, Mr. Barbara.” There was a slight, satisfied emphasis on the civilian title.

“Selectman Rennie,” Barbie said. “What can I do for you besides give you my name, rank, and serial number… which I’m not sure I remember?”

“Confess. Save us some trouble and soothe your own soul.”

“Mr. Searles mentioned something last night about waterboarding,” Barbie said. “He asked me if I’d ever seen it in Iraq.”

Rennie’s mouth was pursed in a slight smile that seemed to say Tell me more, talking animals are so interesting.

“In fact, I did. I have no idea how often the technique was actually used in the field—reports varied—but I saw it twice. One of the men confessed, although his confession was worthless. The man he named as an Al Qaeda bombmaker turned out to be a school-teacher who’d left Iraq for Kuwait fourteen months previous. The other man had a convulsion and suffered brain damage, so there was no confession from him. Had he been capable, though, I’m sure he would have given one. Everybody confesses when they’re water-boarded, usually in a matter of minutes. I’m sure I would, too.”

“Then save yourself some grief,” Big Jim said.

“You look tired, sir. Are you well?”

The tiny smile was replaced by a tiny frown. It emanated from the deep crease between Rennie’s eyebrows. “My current condition is none of your concern. A word of advice, Mr. Barbara. Don’t bullspit me and I won’t bullspit you. What you should be concerned about is your own condition. It may be fine now, but that could change. In a matter of minutes. You see, I am indeed thinking of having you waterboarded. Am, in fact, seriously considering it. So confess to these murders. Save yourself a lot of pain and trouble.”

“I think not. And if you waterboard me, I’m apt to talk about all sorts of things. Probably ought to keep that in mind when you decide who you want in the room when I start talking.”