Page 46 of Pure Silence

“God, please… He… He doesn’t understand.” Day’s eyes filled with tears, and panic flashed over his face. “Youdon’t hear.Youdon’t hear it. What hedid. What he’s done. What he’s going to do.” He closed his eyes, and the tears ran down his cheeks. “Sick, he’s sick.” He shook his head so hard that his headphones fell off part of the way, and he lost any pretense of control, screaming hysterically, “His own fucking nephew! His fucking nephew! Again and again and again andagain!” He lifted the knife as if to strike and snarled hatefully in the man’s ear, “There will be a pit of hungry vipers waiting for you in Hell, you fucking—”

“Day! Please!” Goldie stepped closer. “Hey, whatever he did, we can tell the police, okay? You can tell them what you heard about whatever it is he did, and they will take care of it!” He looked around again, hoping that their shouting would have drawn some attention, but the noise at the construction site was drowning most of it out.

The man was trembling, and every ounce of color had drained from his face. He was trying to look back at Day, whispering fearfully, “Who the fuck sent you? Is… is this some kinda fuckin’ setup? Who the fuck are you?”

“God said His way is in whirlwind and storm,” Day whispered with a furious growl, “and the clouds are the dust of his feet—”

“You can be God’s dust or whatever later!” Goldie snapped impatiently. He saw an elderly couple making their way into the apartment building, and he shouted, “Hey! You! Please! Call the police!”

“What?” the elderly man shouted back, holding his hand up to his ear.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Goldie raised his voice, trying again to be heard over the noise of power tools. “Call the cops! Please! Call the cops right now! This man just attacked us!”

The elderly man looked confused, but his wife was already pulling out her cell phone from her purse.

Goldie turned back to Day. He approached him cautiously, and he then gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let him go, Day. It’s over. It’s okay.”

Day hesitated, his eyes glancing away as if he was listening to something. He looked back to Goldie, and he nodded. He let go of the man, and then he tucked the knife away into his boot.

The man stumbled off in a panic, staring at Day and panting frantically. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Day as he stammered, “Who… who are you? Who the fuck are you really?” His voice rose to a screech. “Tell me! Tell me who the fuck you are!”

Goldie swept his arm around Day’s shoulders and drew him in close, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Day was tense at first, but then he slowly melted. He pressed against Goldie’s side and scrambled to get his headphones back on, holding them over his ears as if trying to block out the man’s voice.

“Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you?” the man continued to scream. He was nearly hysterical now, and he teetered, backpedaling away into the alley…

Right into the path of an oncoming dump truck leaving the construction site.

Goldie watched in horror as the man’s body vanished beneath the wheels of the giant truck, and the truck’s horn blared frantically, but it was far too late.

The elderly woman screamed.

Goldie thought he was going to throw up.

Day whispered, “I am God’s wrath.”

9

GOLDIE

This was the second time Goldie had seen someone die.

Both times the person had been threatening his life, and Day had killed them.

Maybe it wasn’t fair to blame this man’s death on Day, but it was hard not to.

Goldie couldn’t explain how Day knew when that truck would be coming through, much less how he knew exactly what to say to upset the man and make him spiral out of control and walk right into the truck’s path. There was no logical explanation for any of it, and there was no way that Day could have planned it happening so perfectly.

And yet, there it was.

Another sinner dispatched.

The police came, they asked questions, and Goldie did his best to answer them honestly. There wasn’t much to say. The elderly couple had also witnessed the man walking backward into the street and corroborated Goldie’s story, and there was no suspicion being cast on him or Day. Goldie flubbed a little on what the man wanted from them, saying vaguely that he’d been asking him about Michael Parker.

The detective who arrived on scene was the same one who had come to the apartment after Goldie helped Michael find the bottom of the stairwell.

He was an older Hispanic man named Heratio Alvarez. He was brisk and blunt, but he seemed to be a good man judging by how kind he’d been to Dana and her kids when he was here last. The flubbing, however, was not going to work on him.