The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

The rain outside the cave that afternoon could be heard penetrating the cave's walls so hard that it sounded as if it were going to collapse right on top of everyone inside. The heat inside was as usual stifling. The stench of body odor and human waste, combined with the humidity and the dampness only made breathing unbearable and downright impossible. By then, everyone gathered and working knew how and when to take breaths; in small doses.

Livingston, on his knees, meticulously worked with the various colored wires that were attached to a set of explosives. He tinkered feverishly, yet carefully, making sure not to insert certain wires into the wrong slots. There were multiple sounds thriving inside his head, namely the rain just twenty or so feet behind him outside the cave, the workers digging into the walls and gagging as if they couldn't breathe any longer, and his own heartbeat that wouldn't slow down for anything.

"Blimey!" He griped under his breath at the tiny sparks that flew into his face.

A roll of thunder caused the man to look up and back at the cave's entrance where Philippe was standing with his rifle in hand.

"Philippe, come over right quick!"

Lethargically, the man did as ordered and stood above Livingston. Livingston continued to work with the wires more and more before saying to Philippe, "Stand here."

Philippe sat his weapon down onto the ground before kneeling and asking, "What is it?"

Taking a blue and yellow wire, Livingston remarked, "Take these, and no matter what, don't drop them."

Philippe secured the wires as commanded while watching Livingston fiddle with the dynamite like they were toys.

"You and the others have been awfully quiet all day." Livingston mentioned without looking at the young man. "What's the issue?"

Philippe's eyes shifted from side to side in rapid succession. "It's...it's just him." He stuttered.

"Him, who," Livingston turned up his nose.

"You know...him."

Livingston glanced at Philippe for a second before re-directing his attention back at his work. "Just stay focused on what we're doing here." He muttered as if his words were too blasphemous to be said out loud.

"But, how can we stay focused when he's out dere doing what he's doing?"

Sighing, Livingston said, "Look, I can't control the bastard any more than you can. But—

"I can control him!" Philippe pointed at his rifle.

drop

to leave." Philippe breathlessly urged. "De workers are scared to death. Some of dem would rather die dan to keep on and run into him. You've seen him like dat before. It's like something

down onto the ground and exhaling. He then gave Philippe a hard stare in the eyes before standing, facing towards the weary

"Everyone can take a break

all the remaining workers dropped their pitchforks

about them. But those of us that are collected here are the fortunate ones. I know that I and my partners have been hard on you. I've been more like an enforcer than a foreman. But it was for your own good. We're closer now than we ever have been before. This rubbish about wanting to quit must be expelled from your

deep in de cave searching for de rocks you

"Oh, I see. Anyways, we must maintain our current stride. Only

shrieked as

pair of torn pants, chasing after her, Philippe and his two partners immediately raised their rifles while Livingston stood directly in front of them. Arthur's fangs were exposed and his eyes were

"Put your guns down!"

"But look at

heaving in and out as if he had been running nonstop for hours. Drops of blood could be seen dripping from his bottom lip. Livingston didn't know exactly what to make of the man or what he should

"Arthur, just calm down and let's

The man paced back and forth, frothing at the

these men won't shoot you! Do you understand? They won't

only snarled while lurking within his space that he seemingly dared anyone to invade. Every so often he would swipe and snarl at those before him with his

"Listen to me!" Livingston carefully and slowly advanced towards Arthur. "You are Arthur Bushard! You are the king of your kingdom! I need for you

seemed to focus upon the man. Their eyes locked. His

need Arthur to hear me." Livingston spoke more calmly. "Now...don't you recall

five seconds before

brother. We still need you. What you're doing out there in the town, it can't continue. It's flat out cock-eyed. Just yesterday

was accustomed to the sight of Arthur's alter-ego, but the man's behavior at that point was staggering even for

days, I'm gonna dynamite this section and we'll all be rich. I can go back home, these people can go about their lives, and you can rule this island for as long as you choose. But we need you to remain stable. No more killings. No

Philippe and his partners had their guns pointed straight at Arthur, ready to make a pull of the trigger at any second. The workers all held their breaths; some even turned their heads in fear of Arthur's face. It was only Livingston that dared to move closer to the man until

so seriously into Arthur's

to a halt as he dropped his hands to the side and mumbled so miserably, "Demarae gone. Dey

Livingston shook his head and replied, "Yes...they're

workers and guards who were still pointing their guns at him before he began