Page 32 of All He Takes
Huddled in the corner of the room was Mr. Dumond--and he had an old musket pointed right at them.
"Shit!" Nicky ducked out of the way, bringing Ken with her--but the shot never came. Realizing Mr. Dumond hadn't fired the gun, Nicky took a breath to calm herself. She nodded at Ken, and they both took out their guns.
"Mr. Dumond," Ken said. "Drop your weapon and come out."
"N-no!" he shouted. "Who are you people, really? What do you want from me?"
"We just want to talk about the pictures, Mr. Dumond," Nicky said.
"No--you're... you're them, aren't you? You found me!"
"Who, Mr. Dumond?" Nicky asked. Ken shot her a confused frown too. "Are you running from someone, Mr. Dumond? Is that why you changed your name and moved here from New York?"
Silence.
But then, through the silence, something fell. Nicky turned her head and saw it--a forgotten bottle of pills. They had slipped out of Mr. Dumond's pocket.
"Mr. Dumond..." she said slowly. "Why did you move here?"
"I... I..." He was sweating. "My family... I had to get away... I had to..."
Nicky exchanged a look with Ken. They still didn't know what this was about, but they knew they had to get to the bottom of it.
"If someone is after you, Mr. Dumond," Ken said, "we can help you. But you gotta drop the gun."
"I can't!" he shouted. "You took away everything! I have nothing left! You killed everyone!"
"Mr. Dumond, we're... we're not..." Nicky struggled to find the right words. "We're not the people after you. If you're running from someone, then we can help you. But we need you to come out of there."
"No!" Mr. Dumond shouted. "You're lying! You are them! You killed him and you'll kill me too!"
"Who?" Nicky said. "Who did we kill, Mr. Dumond?"
"He was... he was the only one who'd ever been nice to me..." Mr. Dumond's words dissolved into tears.
"Who, Mr. Dumond?" Nicky said. "Who was it?"
She knew he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, but this wasn't making any sense. Anxiety clawed through Nicky. She needed to end this now.
"Please drop the gun, Mr. Dumond," she said. "You don't want to hurt us. We're not your enemies."
For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to do it. But then, the gun started to shake.
"I... I... I..." Mr. Dumond stuttered. "I--"
Then he fainted, and the musket clattered to the floor.
Nicky heaved a sigh of relief. She and Ken ran to the other side of the counter and helped Mr. Dumond up.
"Are you alright, Mr. Dumond?" she said.
"I..." he stammered. "I'm fine..."
His eyes were open, his face pale. "I--I think I just blacked out for a bit."
Nicky almost felt bad for the guy. Maybe he was being honest—maybe he wasn’t; it was impossible to say right now. Either way, they had him, and they needed to take him in.
"It's nice to see you awake again," Nicky said. "But I'm afraid we need you to come down to the station with us."
