THE RED WAKE

Chapter 13-Interlude

CHAPTER 13

   At 3:12 PM EST, the curtain went up on Alan Whitmore’s Broadway revival of King Lear. A nervous matinee audience of twenty distracted human beings warily applauded the appearance of Titus Horgan as the mad King. 

     Alan noted the wig that covered Horgan’s head barely concealed the bandages underneath. But nobody else seemed to notice or care.

     As he approached the huge map that Lear orders spread across the State Room floor, Horgan paused briefly. He wavered for a moment, seemingly uncertain about what to do next. 

     Backstage in the wings, Alan leaned forward, his hand cupping the radio headset to his ear, ready to ring down the curtain if Horgan blew it. 

     “Is he...?” 

     Terry Wilson stared as Horgan reached up and gently adjusted the wig and crown on his head. A slight grimace convulsed the actor’s features. 

     In the silence, Wilson hissed at Alan. 

     “He’s losing it! Get him off!” 

     But Alan stopped the stage manager with a gesture. He pointed at Horgan. 

     “Look,” he said. 

     Terry turned and saw Horgan looking offstage in their direction. 

     He was waggling his finger at the two men; a kindly mentor guiding his wayward students back onto the correct path. Then Horgan smiled. A huge grin transformed his face in an instant. 

     “Son of a bitch,” Alan said. “He’s fucking with us.” 

     Horgan bowed to the two men in a sweeping theatrical gesture. Then he turned back to the audience and launched flawlessly into King Lear’s opening monologue. 

     “Okay, that was weird,” Terry said. “I think I need a drink.” 

     Alan smiled grimly at the tall stage manager. 

     “Don’t go off just yet,” he said. 

     “We still have to get through the First Act.”

                                                   *

     At 3:15 PM EST, whistling sounds began to echo throughout the theater. A sound like large hailstones hitting the roof began to obscure the dialogue onstage. Backstage, Alan stood with Terry, looking up into the catwalks in the direction of the pounding noise. 

     Onstage, Nick Framer who was playing the Earl of Gloster, was beginning to shout. Alan stared at Framer as the actor attempted to scream his dialogue over the steadily increasing din.

      “This is officially a disaster,” Alan said. 

     Terry nodded his agreement when the first explosion shook the walls of the theater. 

     Everything stopped. 

   Some members of the audience stood and looked around. People were nervously eyeing the exits. Some of them were already heading up the aisles

     “What the hell...?” 

    Terry never finished his sentence. Another explosion shook the auditorium. Then another, another...

     The lights flickered for a moment. Then the theater went black. 

  People began to scream in the sudden darkness. Terry Wilson grabbed a microphone headset from the stage manager’s table near the proscenium. He slapped it on and stepped onto the stage.