Going Insane by Tim Kizer Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tim Kizer
mirror hanging above the bathroom sink. For some reason, she could not help thinking about Redondo Beach, the city Kathy had resided in before she moved to her current apartment in Cypress. She had no desire to dwell on this city since its name still gave her chills, but the thought kept sneaking back into her mind. That boy probably lived in Redondo Beach, too. She never found out his name, by the way. She could have dug it up by going through local news in papers or online, but the very recollection of that day instilled animal, paralyzing fear in her and she had never gotten around to doing it.
Actually, that boy was the reason why she couldn’t shake off these thoughts about Redondo Beach. Yes, she was sure of it right now. As a matter of fact, she just realized that boy had been lodged in her subconsciousness the entire past year.
She had to focus on the task at hand, on making Kathy talk.
Focus, Leslie. Don’t let your mind unravel.
A minute later, Leslie was back in the basement. As she stepped to her chair, her glance fell on the open pack of Parliament Light 100s she had found in Kathy’s jacket pocket. It sat next to the wallet, cell phone, car keys, cheap plastic lighter, some grocery coupon, and three quarters, which Leslie had extracted from Kathy’s jeans pockets. By the way, she made sure to remove the battery from the phone. Switching the cell phone off was not enough since, as she had heard on TV, the police would still be able to triangulate its location.
“You smoke them too?” Leslie said and picked up the pack. “I’ve been smoking more ever since this nightmare started, you know.” She pulled out a cigarette, lit it with Kathy’s lighter, and took two quick puffs.
“Do you have children, Kathy?” she asked monotonously.
“Yes, I have a daughter.”
“How old is she?” Leslie breathed in with her nose the sweet smell of the cigarette smoke.
“Seventeen.”
“Is she your only child?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Where is she now?”
Kathy shrugged her shoulders and said:
“Hanging out with her friends?”
Leslie nodded silently.
“Did you drink coffee today?” she asked after a brief hesitation.
“No, I didn’t. I prefer tea.”
“Okay.” She took a generous puff from her cigarette.
Have you ever heard of fake bombs planted by government agencies in airports to test their security? Leslie did something similar earlier today when she was alone in the kitchen at work. Remember that pressure canner she bought after George had dismissed her suspicions? She used it to make canned beans. And these canned beans were very very special. She put a handful of soil from the Mile Square Park in each of the five cans to try and cook some botulinum toxin, about which she had read on the internet. There was no guarantee that the soil contained the bacterium, which produced the toxin, but she decided to give it a shot anyway.
This morning, wearing latex gloves, Leslie opened the cans and carefully collected with a syringe two milliliters of liquid substance from every one of them. She mixed all the extracted substance in a small jar, twisted the lid on tight, and took the jar to the office. Three hours before lunch, Leslie released some of this potentially deadly cocktail into the four coffee pots in the kitchen. You see, she had warned George that a terrorist could have poisoned the pots and he had done nothing. If there was botulinum toxin in her canned beans, this tragedy would serve as a wake-up call for every work place in America.
What was the death from the botulinum toxin like? Not pleasant at all. It took the toxin 24-72 hours to manifest itself. In many cases, one first had trouble controlling one’s eyes and facial muscles, which was followed by paralysis of arms and legs. Then breathing became difficult. There might be nausea and vomiting as a bonus. And then a person died, if untreated for botulism.
How big were those coffee pots? At least ten cups each, which meant
Actually, that boy was the reason why she couldn’t shake off these thoughts about Redondo Beach. Yes, she was sure of it right now. As a matter of fact, she just realized that boy had been lodged in her subconsciousness the entire past year.
She had to focus on the task at hand, on making Kathy talk.
Focus, Leslie. Don’t let your mind unravel.
A minute later, Leslie was back in the basement. As she stepped to her chair, her glance fell on the open pack of Parliament Light 100s she had found in Kathy’s jacket pocket. It sat next to the wallet, cell phone, car keys, cheap plastic lighter, some grocery coupon, and three quarters, which Leslie had extracted from Kathy’s jeans pockets. By the way, she made sure to remove the battery from the phone. Switching the cell phone off was not enough since, as she had heard on TV, the police would still be able to triangulate its location.
“You smoke them too?” Leslie said and picked up the pack. “I’ve been smoking more ever since this nightmare started, you know.” She pulled out a cigarette, lit it with Kathy’s lighter, and took two quick puffs.
“Do you have children, Kathy?” she asked monotonously.
“Yes, I have a daughter.”
“How old is she?” Leslie breathed in with her nose the sweet smell of the cigarette smoke.
“Seventeen.”
“Is she your only child?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Where is she now?”
Kathy shrugged her shoulders and said:
“Hanging out with her friends?”
Leslie nodded silently.
“Did you drink coffee today?” she asked after a brief hesitation.
“No, I didn’t. I prefer tea.”
“Okay.” She took a generous puff from her cigarette.
Have you ever heard of fake bombs planted by government agencies in airports to test their security? Leslie did something similar earlier today when she was alone in the kitchen at work. Remember that pressure canner she bought after George had dismissed her suspicions? She used it to make canned beans. And these canned beans were very very special. She put a handful of soil from the Mile Square Park in each of the five cans to try and cook some botulinum toxin, about which she had read on the internet. There was no guarantee that the soil contained the bacterium, which produced the toxin, but she decided to give it a shot anyway.
This morning, wearing latex gloves, Leslie opened the cans and carefully collected with a syringe two milliliters of liquid substance from every one of them. She mixed all the extracted substance in a small jar, twisted the lid on tight, and took the jar to the office. Three hours before lunch, Leslie released some of this potentially deadly cocktail into the four coffee pots in the kitchen. You see, she had warned George that a terrorist could have poisoned the pots and he had done nothing. If there was botulinum toxin in her canned beans, this tragedy would serve as a wake-up call for every work place in America.
What was the death from the botulinum toxin like? Not pleasant at all. It took the toxin 24-72 hours to manifest itself. In many cases, one first had trouble controlling one’s eyes and facial muscles, which was followed by paralysis of arms and legs. Then breathing became difficult. There might be nausea and vomiting as a bonus. And then a person died, if untreated for botulism.
How big were those coffee pots? At least ten cups each, which meant