Under the Dome

“What kind of crimes have we got here, do you suppose?” Big Jim asked. “Criminal threatening?”

“Sure, and extortion,” Freddy said.

“Hell with that, it was attempted murder,” Carter said.

“And who do you suppose put him up to it?”

“Barbie,” Carter said, and slugged Rusty in the mouth. Rusty had no sense of it coming, and didn’t even begin to get his guard up. He staggered backward, hit one of the chairs, and fell into it sideways with his mouth bleeding.

“You got that resisting arrest,” Big Jim remarked. “But it’s not enough. Put him on the floor, fellows. I want him on the floor.”

Rusty tried to run but barely got out of the chair before Carter grabbed one of his arms and spun him around. Freddy put a foot behind his legs. Carter pushed. Like kids in the schoolyard, Rusty thought as he toppled over.

Carter dropped down beside him. Rusty got in one blow. It landed on Carter’s left cheek. Carter shook it off impatiently, like a man ridding himself of a troublesome fly. A moment later he was sitting on Rusty’s chest, grinning down at him. Yes, just like in the schoolyard, only with no playground monitor to break things up.

He turned his head to Rennie, who was now on his feet. “You don’t want to do this,” he panted. His heart was thudding hard. He could barely get enough breath to feed it. Thibodeau was very heavy. Freddy Denton was on his knees beside the two of them. To Rusty he looked like the ref in one of those put-up-job wrestling matches.

“But I do, Everett,” Big Jim said. “In fact, God bless you, I have to. Freddy, snag my cell phone. It’s in his breast pocket, and I don’t want it getting broken. The cotton-picker stole it. You can add that to his bill when you get him to the station.”

“Other people know,” Rusty said. He had never felt so helpless. And so stupid. Telling himself that he wasn’t the first to underestimate James Rennie Senior did not help. “Other people know what you did.”

“Perhaps,” Big Jim said. “But who are they? Other friends of Dale Barbara, that’s who. The ones who started the food riot, the ones who burned down the newspaper office. The ones who set the Dome going in the first place, I have no doubt. Some sort of government experiment, that’s what I think. But we’re not rats in a box, are we? Are we, Carter?”

“No.”

“Freddy, what are you waiting for?”

Freddy had been listening to Big Jim with an expression that said Now I get it. He took Big Jim’s cell phone from Rusty’s breast pocket and tossed it onto one of the sofas. Then he turned back to Rusty. “How long have you been planning it? How long you been planning to lock us up in town so you could see what we’d do?”

“Freddy, listen to yourself,” Rusty said. The words came out in a wheeze. God, but Thibodeau was heavy. “That’s crazy. It makes no sense. Can’t you see th—”

“Hold his hand on the floor,” Big Jim said. “The left one.” Freddy did as he was ordered. Rusty tried to fight, but with Thibodeau pinning his arms, he had no leverage.

“I’m sorry to do this, pal, but the people of this town have to understand we’re in control of the terrorist element.”

Rennie could say he was sorry all he wanted, but in the instant before he brought the heel of his shoe—and all of his two hundred and thirty pounds—down on Rusty’s clenched left hand, Rusty saw a different motive poking out the front of the Second Selectman’s gabardine trousers. He was enjoying this, and not just in a cerebral sense.

Then the heel was pressing and grinding: hard, harder, hardest. Big Jim’s face was clenched with effort. Sweat stood out under his eyes. His tongue was clamped between his teeth.

Don’t scream, Rusty thought. It’ll bring Ginny, and then she’ll be in the cooking pot, too. Also, he wants you to. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

But when he heard the first snap from under Big Jim’s heel, he did scream. He couldn’t help it.

There was another snap. Then a third.

Big Jim stepped back, satisfied. “Get him on his feet and take him to jail. Let him visit with his friend.”

Freddy was examining Rusty’s hand, which was already swelling. Three of the four fingers were bent badly out of true. “Busted,” he said with great satisfaction.

Ginny appeared in the lounge doorway, her eyes huge. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“Arresting this bastard for extortion, criminal withholding, and attempted murder,” Freddy Denton said as Carter hauled Rusty Everett to his feet. “And that’s just a start. He resisted and we subdued him. Please step aside, ma’am.”

“You’re nuts!” Ginny cried. “Rusty, your hand!”

“I’m all right. Call Linda. Tell her these thugs—”

He got no further. Carter seized him by the neck and ran him out the door with his head bent down. In his ear Carter whispered: “If I was sure that old guy knew as much about doctorin as you, I’d kill you myself.”