The elevator doors opened. Bear stepped out into the garage and passed by his colleagues with his head hung low, carrying a role of duck tape. He walked up to the presidential car, opened the passenger door, bent over and said to the dead driver
“Hello, Barney.”
He threw the tape on the passenger seat, stood up and went to the rear door, opened it wide and knelt beside them.
The Xings were seated, fastened to the seats and backs by wide gray adhesive tape. Seated on Bear’s left were her mom and dad, and across from them, to Bear’s right, looking with dead eyes at their parents was she, and next to her - her brother.
Bear reached into his jacket pocket and took something out. He put his hand on her lap.
“I found this in your sheets last night, Liv,” whispered Bear, gently laying Henry on her nightgown. “I didn’t know… you know, your Bear isn’t very smart, Liv… that there used to be birds in tuxedos.”
With angry jerks of the fingers and nails of both hands he tore the tape fastening her upturned palm to the seat. He raised the bluish hand to his lips and kissed it.
His colleagues looked on in silence as Bear slowly rose, closed the rear door, took the roll of tape and sat down in the passenger sat.
At that moment Iceman ran up and held the door with both hands, preventing Bear from shutting it.
“What are you doing, Bear?”
“Let go of the door, Iceman.”
“Don’t, my friend… please. It’s difficult for me too. For all of us.”
“Move out of the way, Iceman.”
“Don’t be crazy…”
Iceman was silent when Bear drew his pistol from his belt holster with lightning speed and pointed it at him.
“Move away, Iceman, I’m telling you.”
Iceman stepped back. Bear closed the door and locked the car from the inside.
YOU ARE READING
The Grasshopper
Science FictionImagine living in a world where Consumerism is the constitutional order, and where the Inspectorate is in charge of destroying goods whose season has passed, so as to maintain the Balance. In this world you can survive only if you work and buy goods...
