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- 11/10/2021
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
True As It Can Be - 20. Chapter 20
We were running to my former dormitory building. I led the way with Brad by my side. Brad’s wounds were acting up and I could see him wince in pain as we ran. I wished he would have gone to the hospital with the others, but I knew he couldn’t abandon someone he had a deep emotional connection with. If I insisted, he might have gone to the hospital, but I was clear-minded enough to recognize that Brad also had trace amounts of Methadone in his system and he did not have a prescription, he would have been reported. That’s a cruel truth about why people taking drugs illegally, even for the most benign medical reasons, don’t seek out medical care. They also sadly don’t have Brad’s resources to hire private medical and mental health professionals. So, I held him close and whispered encouragement to him, knowing his pain from his new and old injuries caused by Gary Gaston.
Mrs. Potter and Morris trailed us closely behind. Mrs. Potter had a large purse with her, which I assumed is where she carried her stun gun and Morris left the wooden baseball bat for a metal tire iron. Sammy with Min’s Bokken was at the back with 1 of the 2 police officers, who were outside Keller Hall arresting members of the mob and violent social media group. He was running alongside Sammy and I could tell they were speaking. The police officer was dressed, like a normal guy in a dress shirt and leather jacket. He had a gun holster hidden inside his jacket. He also carried what appeared to be a satchel filled with nylon zip ties.
I couldn’t hear what Sammy had said to get the officer to follow us, but it made me feel a little better to know that we had someone with a lot of experience on our side. I knew I couldn’t count on our luck to continue when Chip’s safety was at stake. A police officer’s presence may provide deterrence for violence, especially if Gary Gaston had his student watch group with him. Gary teased they would be armed with stun guns, tasers, and other equipment. Morris had told us over coffee on Wednesday that the group was around 54 members so far. Half of them lived in our freshman dorm building, so it’s 27-30 college guys against 6 people. The odds are really bad if this gets violent.
We entered my old freshman dorm building with Morris’ student key card through the side entrance, which normally was meant to be used by handicapped students. We heard loud inhuman wails from the 1st floor common room. While Gary Gaston’s room like my old room was on the 2nd floor, the sound of terror made this area the first stop on our investigation. I knew Brad was injured, so I asked him to fall behind and to only come up if we were threatened inside. The 6 of us walked down the hall and 5 of us entered what could only be described as the most debauched Thanksgiving I have ever seen.
A table sat in the middle of the common room with food that has not been touched by anyone. It was filled with turkey drumsticks, lamb shanks, loaded baked potatoes, and biscuits. Another table beside it held several kegs of beer, various bottles of hard alcohol, and dispensers with labels like “Val”, “Ox”, “Ad”, “Klo”, and others. The open gluttony and substance abuse wouldn’t be that surprising, but it’s what the guys in the room were doing that caused me to doubt my sense of reality.
There were at least two dozen guys. All of them were taking turns to torture cats. The cats were held in cages on one side of the room, many wailed for help and others turned their body to avoid seeing the gruesome fates that awaited them at the hands of these vile human beings. The vilest of these guys had taken off their belts and created nooses that they hung cats on a coat rack, it was a disgusting scene and demonstrated exactly what kind of men would follow Gary Gaston.
Someone catches the sight of me at the door and blurts out, “Fuck, how did you get out of Gary’s room?”
The idiot did not know that he just implicated himself and Gary in kidnapping Chip, nor that I was recording everything he and his friends were doing.
Mrs. Potter glares at the young man, but the police officer moves in front of her and begins speaking, “I am Sergeant Mark Halloran of State Police’s Special Tactical and Operations team. Based on everything I’ve seen, heard, and what some of you are suspected of partaking in earlier, you are all under arrest.”
5 of the guys, some with knives, walk toward us menacingly, one of them, a close ally of Gary who is a pre-law senior, says, “We are merely having a private celebration, officer. This event is a private gathering, similar to a religious ceremony. We are allowed to hold a ritual for like-minded individuals without harassment by the police. You have no reason or court-approved permission to enter our dormitory and we have provided no cause. I do believe the courts have ruled that we can do whatever we wish in private settings. Religion and assembly are freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution after all. Due to such freedoms and your lack of legal reason for being here, you cannot charge us with any crime. Anything you or those you have deputized have seen or heard here is “fruit of the poisonous tree”, not admissible in court and cannot be used to prove crimes such as animal cruelty,” he pauses and smirks at us, “As for what my friend said regarding the likeness of this man to another, it is merely a case of mistaken identity. Another college student with similar features to this man is a guest of Gary Gaston.”
Interjecting, Sammy replies calmly, giving away just enough details to counter their legal defense, “Several of your people were seen escorting a boy with these features from a building that was ransacked, earlier tonight. Most of the residents of that building had to be sent to a hospital after a violent home invasion. Do you know anything about that?”
The self-assured speaker of the group answers, “That boy is an intimate friend of Gary Gaston, we rescued him from the scene of the violent group you were speaking of. It is the mission of the student watch to protect students from violence. Gary has been busy entertaining his friend for the last 2 hours,” he grins, “They are quite fond of each other based on what I have seen. It would be a further invasion of privacy to intrude on their activities.”
Mrs. Potter’s fury rages in contempt at these monsters, “That friend was my 12-year-old son, you bastard!”
A chorus of murmurs and conversations erupted around us, even Gary’s closest ally seemed stunned by this sudden revelation. I knew I couldn’t catch all the conversations going around, but the body cam could, and if there was any justice, these guys were implicating themselves and Gary Gaston. Fuck whatever legal defense they might raise, their excuses died when they took Chip.
The police officer continues with his words, “I have the right to be here under the suspicion of a child kidnapping, which you have implied your culpability in as only one missing boy was fitting that description at the scene. Per the law, I shall note your rights upon arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”
The leader of the group raised the knife in his hand slightly, while Officer Halloran pulled out his gun. The leader noticed that most of the room’s occupants were too intoxicated to perform any useful offensive action, he surrendered to Officer Halloran. I called in Brad to help us quickly zip tie all of Gary’s accomplices, so we could head upstairs to rescue Chip without having to worry about Gary’s goons ambushing us. It was a stroke of luck that we caught them amid “celebration”. Personally, I’d call this sick version of thanksgiving a sadist party rather than a celebration. Brad focused all his attention on tying up everyone in the room, so the police can pick them up, later.
As we finished tying up the last guy in the room, Brad saw the cat gallows again.
Brad asks the talkative asshole from earlier, “Why are you hurting innocent defenseless animals? Wasn’t it bad enough you guys came after disabled human beings? What’s wrong with you?”
The guy blinks at the question, “They’re just strays from a pound, people put them down more often than dogs. Gary said if they’ll die anyway, why not use them to weed out the pussies from our group. There’s nothing wrong with what we did to get rid of weakness.”
I knew based on Brad’s history with animals and people, those words pissed him off. Before Brad’s anger grew any greater, I took hold of Brad’s hand and reminded him that we had to go upstairs to Gary’s room. He glared at this asshole and walked away with me.
When we were outside Gary’s door, I realized we were missing something. None of us had a key card for Gary’s dorm room to enter. Brad’s administration card allowed him entry into various buildings of the campus, like VIP guests being allowed to tour the facilities, but student rooms require special permission. Being Thanksgiving, there was no one on call at Campus Police and no administration official, who could grant us access.
I turn to everyone, “There must be some way we can get in. Can we break the door down?”
Officer Halloran shakes his head to indicate no, “These doors are very sturdy. We do not have any proper tools to breach the door with. I’ll call in for backup with state dispatch, but only Troop F has any semblance of staff and equipment right now on Thanksgiving as they secure the airport. They’re about 45 minutes out.”
As we mull over options, Mrs. Potter brings out her medical staff university ID, “I have access to student dorm rooms because I am a school medical staff member. In case of a medical emergency, I am authorized to enter any dorm room by our electronic locks. We need to get in there, now.”
We entered Gary Gaston’s fully lit room. It was clean and tidy, there was a smell in the air of bleach and other cleaning liquids that filled me with dread. Gary Gaston smiled at our entrance and winked at me. He was only wearing a jockstrap and his body would have been something to envy if I didn’t hold him with such contempt. His clothes were folded neatly on top of his bed. He was wearing handcuffs and leg restraints, which surprised me because I could not understand why he would have done that to himself. He made no sudden movements, but his gaze turned from us to a corner of the room.
I gazed at that corner of the room, where Chip sat motionlessly in a position with his knees raised and his face down. I saw scraps of his yellow Pikachu shirt and yellow pants all over the floor, sheared off without any concern. He was naked, except for a pair of bright turquoise briefs and a black leather collar on his neck. The collar was tied to a hook on the wall like you would see for a dog. His skin held bruises, welts, and cuts with fresh blood still coming out.
When Chip lifted his face slightly, there was an empty expression on his face. Gone was the bright child that I knew less than a week ago. He wasn’t the exciting preteen with a new video game or the naïve child trying to learn the lessons of life, like many of us, have done in our own time. All of that innocent was stolen from him. My sight wandered back to Gary Gaston, I wanted to kill him at that moment, but there was the mystery of his binding.
Gary smiles at us, “Oh you guys came just in time to save us. Those assholes downstairs had locked me in here with this little boy.”
We were all confused by this turn of events, had Gary Gaston created forces he could not control? If he was bound, then who did this to Chip? Nothing made sense in context to what I knew of Gary Gaston’s masterful control of everything and everyone. This man was the same person who manipulated Brad for years, he was a serial rapist with money and influence to hide the truth, and he created a student organization of sociopaths; A man like that couldn’t have been held against his will. I looked around frantically for answers, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for Chip and Gary being bound. The only peculiar setup in the room was several TV screens adjacent to the bed.
Brad left my side, but instead of approaching Gary, went to the TV screens. He manually turns on each of them, revealing a collection of camera views from within the building: the main entrance, 1st-floor common room, and the hallways around the building. We were lucky that we didn’t enter the building in the front. We entered through the side entrance relegated for handicap access, which had no cameras like many buildings at the university.
Brad glares at Gary, “You saw us take down your group and heard what we said. You’re not a victim Gary, you’re just an asshole, who is trying to save his skin. You can’t get away with what you did to us tonight, what you did to Chip. I swear you’re going to pay for everything you’ve done and all the misery you created.”
Gary’s face is placid and calm, showing no sign of fear, “Having multiple screens tuned into the various cameras in our dormitory is not against any rules, it’s why the cameras were made public in the first place. Brad, I know you are suspicious of me due to your prior assault, but why would I put myself at your mercy if I were behind all of this? I am defenseless as you can see.”
Mrs. Potter moves closer to Chip, she asks her son, “Did he hurt you?”
Chip did not respond, his blank expression continued. Mrs. Potter hugged him and tried to provide warmth, but Chip did not extend his arms around her. He did not cry or wail in pain from all the noticeable marks on his body, he was just silent.
I turn back to Gary, “Why is Chip like this?”
Gary betrays nothing, “He has been unresponsive for hours; perhaps someone gave him sedative or other drugs meant for adult consumption. They forced me to ingest several pills as well, which a toxicology and blood test can prove. They left both of us alone in my room for the last 2 hours.”
Again, Gary has an explanation for everything, but Sammy grimaces at his words and snorts, “You’re slick, but you neglected 2 things, Gaston.”
Gary peers at Sammy, probably trying to gauge his reaction, “I believe your name is Sammy, I remember you from the coffee shop. May I ask what aspects do you believe I missed?”
Sammy answers, “Your clothes and Chip’s blood.”
Sammy winks at Officer Halloran, looking back and forth between Gary and Chip, then answers, “My young friend has noticed the flaw in your story, Mr. Gaston. If you were held against your will just like this young boy, why are his clothes torn apart, while yours are neatly folded on your bed? Also, the fresh blood on his body indicates that clotting has only begun happening, meaning he was assaulted within the last 10 minutes. Since no one else was present in this room, except for yourself, then it was likely you, who assaulted him.”
Gary’s anger flared to life at those words, he glares at Sammy, “You are too smart for your own good Sammy Abrams, one day that will be your undoing,” he turns and growls at Brad, “If I had a few more minutes in here to tidy up or even the entire night, you wouldn’t have won so easily.”
Mrs. Potter angrily yells at him, “Don’t you have any decency at all, he’s just a little boy.”
Gary snaps at Mrs. Potter, “Decency, seriously, that shit has been dead for a long time. You guys might have me for a small crime. Still, even with all your so-called evidence, I won’t see a day in court or even jail,” Gary laughs maniacally at us, “Decency, Ha! Weinstein ruled a segment of Hollywood for years without anyone batting an eye at what he did or who he touched in liberal California. Epstein got a sweet deal in Florida from Trump’s guy, Acosta, to stay out of jail and run a pedo-island for a decade. I’m even more important than those losers, so what are your odds of getting to me?”
Brad shouts, “You harmed Chip, you harmed me. You honestly believe you can break the law without consequences.”
Gary snarls with his reply to Brad, “You’re still so naïve Brad, despite the shit I put you through and how no one got prosecuted for what happened to you. You think the district attorneys, who are no better than politicians from either party, give a fuck about what I do. They care more about the trucks and ships my company owns keeping stores stocked for Christmas or supermarkets filled with food. No one fucking cares about decency because they won’t accept the alternative. People want to be entertained and they need to eat. Society can call me whatever names they want, but they cannot live without what I provide. That’s why I can never lose. All you have done is inconvenienced me and probably cost me a few million dollars in overtime with my lawyers and Super PAC contributions.”
As those words began to sink in, the dark truth about Gary Gaston’s future was growing clearer. Gary’s family afforded him a lot of sway into everything. Like all those horrible men from recent history, he had immunity to do whatever he wanted, because we as a society are dependent on him. Brad was right about the need to end this dependency, but his idea has come too late to prevent a monster like Gary from rising.
As we were all dazed with Gary Gaston’s pronouncements, Mrs. Potter stood up and took out a gun from her purse in a swift motion, then fired at Gary Gaston’s crotch. I recognized that gun was the same one that Gary had used to frighten me in the department store changing room from Saturday. Mrs. Potter had placed it in her purse at that time. There were no bullets in the gun on Saturday, so she must have acquired the bullets at a later point. I knew she had skill at firing guns as she was practicing on Sunday at the shooting range in New Hampshire. She also spent some time away from our group that day making purchases that included my StrikeLight taser flashlight. I couldn’t blame her for shooting Gary Gaston, but her shot was not intended to be a mortal wound, which I did find odd.
Gary groans in pain, “Fucking Bitch…Fuck…You shot me.”
Officer Halloran frowns at Mrs. Potter, “I can understand why you did its ma’am. However, as I must arrest him for committing a crime, I also must arrest you as well,” he sighs glancing at Gary screaming in pain with a shrill voice, “I hope this was worth it.”
Mrs. Potter drops the gun and holds her hands out, “I’m not a killer, not even for a man like him. However, I can’t allow him to walk away unscathed after what he did to my son. He will live for the rest of his life with those physical scars to never again be what he was. That’s worth any amount of prison time I may be sentenced,” she turns to me as I cradle Chip, “Beau, please take care of Chip, if you can.”
Both Gary Gaston and Mrs. Potter were zip-tied. Several police cars and an ambulance arrived outside the dormitory. Sammy offered to drive us to the local hospital, which Morris and I accepted, but Brad had to refuse. Brad said he would set head to a summer home near a coastal town about an hour away. Brad told me that he would have a car pick up me and anyone else later. I told him I’d send him updates on our friends at the hospital once we reached there. I knew Brad wanted to go with us, but he was cognizant of his illegal activity and his need to keep a distance. His mental state and his severe withdrawal symptoms cannot be easy
At the hospital, we waited in the general lobby, until we were given clearance to come in since it was the middle of the night and past normal visiting hours for the hospital. As we walked around the hallways of the hospital, I heard Gary Gaston screaming and yelling for someone to save “his balls” from a nurse’s station. Part of me wanted to tell the doctors to let him bleed out and die miserably in pain, but logically, I knew living with scars like those would forever haunt him, being a far better punishment than a painful death could ever be. Even if he escapes justice, he won’t be able to enjoy himself or have the esteem that he was used to. Mrs. Potter’s choice of punishment for him was the perfect balance of cruel and necessary.
I found Warren, Min, Francis, and Paki sitting together. Their expressions were grim and the various stitches on their skin was noticeable. Francis was donning a hospital gown and slippers with his exposed skin showing. Paki was wearing a matching gown and stuck close to Francis, leaving no doubt to any onlookers that they were a couple. Warren had several stitches covering his face and was dressed normally. Among them all, Min only had a cast with a sling across his shoulder.
Perceiving their mood, I walk cautiously towards them to give an update, “We found Chip. Gary and his guys are in custody,” I pause hesitating, then reveal the rest, “Mrs. Potter was also arrested for shooting Gary in the groin. Gary drugged and abused Chip.”
Warren speaks up, “She could have shot him a few more times for what he did…” he sobs, “Cook is dead.”
That was my last conversation with Cook, he truly did everything he thought he could to protect everyone at Keller Hall. I felt a coldness run down my body as the news attacked my sense of reality. I didn’t want this to be true, I didn’t want to know Mrs. Potter was going to jail, Chip would probably never be the carefree kid he once was, and Cook was dead. Gary Gaston had lost and he had suffered, but it didn’t feel like a victory. We never wanted to fight, we never wanted any of this.
In every story I’ve read, the heroes would win like we did against overwhelming odds and lived happily ever after without having to face any additional consequences. The real world was more insane and crueler than fiction, where people can be made to believe themselves to be heroes while acting violently like the group that caused Cook’s death. I am only a little better off, I rushed in with everyone to save Chip. Our quick arrival and turnaround at the freshman dorm caught Gary off-guard and made him act sloppy to the point that we caught him in a series of lies. Yet, Chip had already paid the price. Our act of heroism didn’t save the person we intended to save. Mrs. Potter knowing that Gary may not even see justice, perform an act of vigilantism. Are our heroes even real? Or, are we all just lying to ourselves?
The 5 of us sat quietly together in a corner of the hospital. I called Brad and told him about Cook. I could hear his cries from the phone and I desperately wanted to be there for him. It took another hour before a car arrived to take us to Brad’s summer home. Sammy opted to join us. I saw he held Min’s uninjured hand as he was following our car. Brad’s place was a spacious beach house with 6 bedrooms. It was smaller than Keller Hall and did not have its modern tools or toys, but it felt very comfortable inviting. As everyone departed to claim a room for themselves, I went to the master bedroom, where I found Brad lying naked on the floor with a box of Kleenex tissues. I closed the door and locked it, then stripped myself and rubbed my body against his.
Brad asks me, “Do you think Cook is with his partner, Brian, now?”
I nod, “I hope they are together. They’re both good people, who died protecting others. They deserve to be together forever. They deserve to find love.”
Brad cup my face in his hands, “You deserve to find love, too, Beau. You deserve to be cherished. I don’t want us to wait until it’s too late. I know it’s unfair to push you, but…I love you.”
I snuggle into Brad, all my worries, memories, and pain inconsequential after everything I’ve faced, “I love you, too, Brad.”
Fear had held me back from saying “I love you” to Brad, but after confronting fear in every form imaginable tonight, saying those 3 words seemed small in comparison. I don't know what the future will bring for us, all I know at this moment is what I feel for this man in my arms.
Gary was tricky and if he were given a little more time, he'd have considered his folded clothes and Chip's running blood.
An epilogue will follow on Sunday to finish off the story
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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