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.

"Don't drop those wires!"

to death. Some of dem would rather die

carefully placing the dynamite back down onto the ground and exhaling. He then gave Philippe a

"Everyone can take a break for a

all the remaining workers dropped their pitchforks and gave Livingston their

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 minds." Livingston then took a

"She's deep in de cave searching for de rocks you asked for." One of the

"Oh, I see. Anyways, we must maintain our current stride. Only two more days and freedom

God," the woman named Tala shrieked as she came flying around

in startled fear at what had the woman on the run. When they could see Arthur, who was clothed only in a 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 completely white. He looked as if he was either coming down from a transformation or in the beginning stages. No matter, the frenzied appearance he wore was

guns down!" Livingston screamed at

look at him!"

Arthur was 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

just calm down and let's

paced back and forth, frothing at the mouth like a raving

men won't shoot you! Do you understand?

But Arthur 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

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

his name that was all the more Arthur seemed to focus upon the man. Their eyes locked. His pacing gradually began to cease with

more calmly. "Now...don't you recall Demarae once saying that too much changing can affect the

stood for a full five seconds before he hissed in a

there in the town, it can't continue. It's flat out cock-eyed. Just yesterday Philippe and the boys had to chase off

and studied Livingston endlessly. Livingston's own heart wouldn't stop thumping. He was accustomed to the sight of Arthur's alter-ego, but the man's behavior at that point was staggering even for

to find it. In two days, I'm gonna dynamite this section and we'll all be

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

"We...need...you." Livingston uttered so seriously

he dropped his hands to the side and

his head and

who were still pointing their guns at him