Day 26: 53,841 words and everything goes up in orange smoke

I wrote over 3,000 words today, in the final push to finish the main part of my novel. This probably isn't the best ending, but it's what you're bloody well getting.

This chapter, while long, is a valentine to my fellow EsNoWriMoers. 

The party that wasn’t really a party was in full swing. Gordon had set up the train tracks so that the invited guests were milling around the buffet table and enjoying the music. Unfortunately, Gordon had chosen haunted house sounds for the soundtrack, and it was clear that he was the only one enjoying it. Scottie reminded herself that should she ever get engaged, or a party was hosted in her honour for any reason, she would not allow Gordon to play DJ. 

Jackie was standing behind the bar, painfully aware of every second that had ticked by after 7 o’clock sharp. “He’s outside, isn’t he,” he said solemnly to the pair. They both nodded.

“He gave us five minutes to get everyone out of here. I told him they would be going out the back door, to buy us some time,” Scottie said hurriedly. 

“What do we do? He was waiting for us as soon as we left to come here,” Jake said.

“But he really does seem to think that it’s an engagement party,” Scottie added.

“So he doesn’t know that we have a plan,” Jackie replied. 

“No. But we need to get Bam Bam, Brandon, Chuck, and Gordon out of here. He only wants us and Cody Simpson left behind, presumably while he burns Jackie’s Place to the ground,” Scottie said bitterly. 

He leaned onto the bar and was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Everyone looked on, unsure of what to do next. 

“Okay,” Jackie finally said. “You four,” he gestured to the ones who needed to leave, “go out the back door. Get at least… three blocks from here and call this number. Ask for Tanner.” He wrote down a seven-digit number, and slid it across the bar dramatically. Scottie tried to ignore the fact that Jackie had clearly just calculated the blast radius of Jackie’s Place.

The four co-conspirators did what they were told. “I guess we’ll not get to the part of the plan with the Li’l Jon dance routine,” Gordon said sadly. 

“Next time,” Chuck replied, giving Gordon’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “At least we all can keep the capes.”

Needless to say, Bam Bam had already shed his cape and looked far from sad about the aborted dance routine. “Take care of yourself and your girl,” he said to Jake as he gave him a hug. Jake nodded. “And you take care of him, too,” he said to Scottie, pulling her into a crushing hug.

He turned to Brandon and Chuck and winked. “We’re burnin’ daylight and chances. Hold on.” And they were gone.

“You three,” he said, gesturing to the remaining resisters. “You need to stall. Keep him talking.”

“He’s already said that he won’t be explaining the whole plan to us. I think he knows that when villains do that it gives the good guys a chance to foil the plan,” Scottie said sadly. 

“I wish that we were dealing with Jeremy, the stupid one,” Jackie cursed. “Just my luck that we would get the psychotic one.”

Cody Simpson shook his head. “Josh, the hot-slash-vain one, is no picnic either.”

[more things happen]

"Of all the dive bars that should have been shut down by the health authorities, in all the useless towns, in all the world, I’m walking into yours,” Joe Murtaugh strutted into Jackie’s Place as if he owned it. Strutting around as if he owned the place was, in fact, Joe Murtaugh’s main mode of transportation. 

“Shut it, Murtaugh,” Jackie scowled. “I thought that Jeremy was supposed to be the stupid one.”

Joe bit out a harsh laugh. He took in the dank surroundings of Jackie’s Place, and the various cardboard cut-outs of celebrities that were now still on the train tracks. “I figured you would have some kind of half-baked, madcap plan,” he said, gesturing around the room. “That’s exactly why I knew that I needed to disrupt it.”

“And you have,” Jackie sneered back. “Just light the match and get on with it. You may be able to burn down half the neighbourhood, but you’re not going to force me to listen to your self-important ranting. Daddy’s money can buy you a lot of things, but it won’t buy my respect. Or my listening.”

Joe tutted in an annoying manner. “It seems like you don’t know my plan as much as you thought you did.” 

He gestured to the door. Sure enough, two other Murtaugh-looking men burst in, along with a man whose photo Scottie had seen many times, but she had never seen in person: Chadwick Moneysworth, the CEO of Torstar Media. He has the air of power and calm that only wealth can provide. His silver hair shines in the glow of the overhead lighting, almost as though he has a halo. His skin is also glowing. He looks fresh, rested, the picture of health.

The other Murtaugh brothers are living up to their cool and playful nicknames. Jeremy looked around stupidly, and as his eyes settled on Jake, they narrowed meanly. He was upset to be around such a hot hockey player. Jake, on the other hand, looked back at him with the cool indifference of someone who never thought about him at all. Josh was very attractive, but clearly still self-conscious. He spotted Cody Simpson and a look go guilt spread across his face. It turns out that when you rig the Australian men’s Olympic swim team trials so that you can unfairly beat out someone else for a spot on the team, it doesn’t feel as triumphant as you think it will. 

Jackie looked at the three brothers and the CEO with open disgust. 

Cody looked at Josh with hurt in his eyes. “I congratulated you when you made the Olympic team. I comforted you when you flamed out in your first race.”

Scottie shook her head at Chadwick Moneysworth. “You’re a disgrace. You’re all a disgrace. I can’t believe that you would involve yourself in this.”

Jake eyed Jeremy. “I’m not entirely sure who you are.” 

Jeremy Murtaugh had never been so chastened in his life. 

“That’s enough feelings for now,” Joe said icily. “Get over there, Chadwick.” He shoved Chadwick towards the resisters. Chadwick was plainly confused.

“What?” he asked, trying to walk back to the men that he thought were his co-conspirators. 

“Stay where you are,” Joe said, pulling out his gun. “You’re the final piece in the plan. You’re going to take the fall for all of this.”

“What do you mean? How dare you!” Chadwick Moneysworth yelled in outrage towards Joe Murtaugh’s gun. As if guns were persuaded by indignation. 

“You know my policy of not explaining my plans to the people I’m ruining. It only gives them time to escape. I’m no fool,” Joe said gesturing to the five to sit down. “Go do what I told you to do,” he said dismissively to his brothers, who slunk off.

“It has been you,” Jackie said in angry disbelief. “It was actually you who set those other fires. And now you’re going to leave this pathetic waste of space here to make it look like he was lighting the fires all along. But it was you.”

“I won’t explain my plans to you,” Joe bit out, “but I will say, yes, that has been the plan all along.”

“I won’t stand for it!” Chadwick Moneysworth spat, like the small man he was who realized that when you agree to do some morally repulsive things like running an entire company into the ground for your own profit, you will probably be on the receiving end of that same level of care from the people you committed your crimes with. 

“I don’t need you to stand. I just need you to die,” Joe spat.

“Stop being so psychotic and get this over with. For someone who is so obsessed with not explaining his crimes to people, you do seem to fall victim to the need to engage in idle chatter,” Jackie said acidly.

Joe’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. He just kept his gun pointed straight. 

All at once, the small crowd at Jackie’s Place began to smell sulfur. 

“Those idiots actually did something right,” Joe mumbled under his breath. 

They were starting a gas leak. With any luck, they might die from that rather than being burned alive.

“Cover for me,” Jackie said as Jeremy and Josh returned, looking pleased with themselves. 
They all had to think fast.

“So let me get this straight,” Scottie started. “Josh’s thing is cheating his way to the Olympics, which, hey, is closer than any of us here have been to the Olympics. Except for you, Cody. Sorry about that.” 

Cody feigned sadness, knowing that Scottie had some kind of plan.

“And Jeremy’s thing is running a successful sports news outlet, even if he does appear to use it as a vehicle to make hot athletes look like they were eating cheese puffs while being ugly,” Scottie continued.

“On behalf of hot athletes everywhere,” Jake gestured towards Cody Simpson as well, “thank you for finally standing up for us.”

“Does that make your thing cleaning up your family’s messes? I guess that’s a good role for the psychotic one in the family,” Scottie eyed Joe with disdain.

“I’m not the psychotic one!” Joe shouted. “I’m the smart one!” 

No one had even notice that just for a moment, Jackie had slipped away. 

“Nothing about any part of this plan has sounded smart to me,” Scottie said tartly.

“I have to agree,” Jake added. Cody Simpson nodded. 

“Just think about how embarrassed your dad is going to be when I write about this on the front page of the Toronto Star. I would say that your new nickname could be the ‘incarcerated one,’ but that wouldn’t work because that’s where you’ll all be when I’m through with you,” Scottie laughed. 

“Shut up,” Joe shouted. “You aren’t going to goad me into talking! In a few seconds this will all be over. You’ll be dead, and we won’t be touched. As always.”

“I don’t need you to talk,” Scottie smiled. “I just needed to see the look on your face when you realize that you aren't nearly as smart as you think you are."

Scottie’s head was pounding, and she was starting to feel dizzy. She remembered that there was a gas leak. They were running out of time.

With her head spinning, she grabbed onto Jake’s arm. He was clearly feeling the effects of the gas leak as well. She felt completely hopeless. 

In the corner of her eye, she saw Jackie return. They were all standing behind the bar, which turned out to be very convenient. Or perhaps not convenient, as it had probably been Jackie’s plan all along.

“Get down!” Jackie ordered, and the three co-conspirators complied. They could hear the Murtaughs shouting, but they trusted Jackie. 

Then, in the corner of her eye, Scottie spotted Gordon who was wearing an all-orange ensemble including an orange cape. He hadn't gone off like Jackie had told him to. Instead, he was army crawling across the floor towards a giant fan. 

She knew where this was going.

Within seconds, the entire bar was covered in orange dust. People were screaming, but Scottie couldn’t place any of the voices. She tried to crawl away, to get anywhere else where she could breathe again. She wasn’t sure if the gas leak or the cheese dust was more dangerous for her health.

Gordon must have started the train set again, because she swore that she saw Emilio Estevez moving around the room to the sweet sounds of spooky haunted house music. Perhaps that was just the active gas leak talking.

Scottie felt an arm around her ankle, and Jake pulled her towards him. 

“Take these!” she heard Jackie shout, and she reached out and touched some warm fabric. 

“These are urine covered socks. Put them over your mouth and they’ll help you breathe as you get out of there.”

“I think I would rather die!” Jake shouted back, or at least Scottie thought that was what happened. She was pretty confident she was hallucinating. 

“I’m going to get you out,” Jake said in her ear, and he grabbed her and picked her up. She closed her eyes out of terror and because the cheese dust and gas leak were a pretty lethal combination.

“You aren’t leaving,” Joe screamed in her ear and pressed his gun against Jake’s head. 

“Not his head!” Scottie screamed, shoving Joe. She heard the gun fall to the ground, and she stepped away from Jake to begin kicking wildly, hoping her feet might make contact with the gun. She felt herself kick something that seemed gun-like, and she grinned. 

“Get down! Get down!” she heard Jackie scream, although his voice felt distant. Everything was feeling distant.

Jake and Scottie complied, crouching down to the ground. Fortunately, they could not locate the urine-soaked socks.

The haunted house music was punctuated with a loud BANG as a gun went off. 

“Cody Simpson is down!” Jake yelled, and Scottie screamed with terror. 

“No one hurts anyone in my bar except for me!” Jackie yelled through the orange haze. 

Scottie wasn’t sure if she was just seeing things, but she saw him pull a blow dart gun out of his pocket and start firing. 

Scottie knew three things about Jackie. First, he doesn’t take orders. Second, he doesn’t suffer fools. And third, he doesn’t miss.

Bodies were dropping to the ground, and even though Scottie couldn’t see who they were, she was certain that they were the three Murtaugh brothers. 

She also knew that if they didn’t get out of there soon, they would be just as unconscious as the Murtaughs. 

“We have to stop the gas leak!” Jake shouted, running in the direction that the Murtaugh brothers had come from. “Gordon, the windows!” 

Gordon tried to open the grimy windows at the front of Jackie’s Place, but they were sealed shut. He ended up hurling a chair through the window instead.

“There’s no time!” Jackie yelled back. “We can’t stop the gas leak. We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t! We have to get Cody out!” Scottie shrieked, running around like an asshole trying to find him. “We can’t leave him behind!”

What Scottie saw next turned her stomach. In front of her was Cody Simpson, headless, and gliding around gracefully. 

Relief washed over her as she realized that it had not been the real Cody Simpson who was shot; it was the cardboard cutout. 

She pushed herself to her knees and stood up shakily. Her head felt like it was going to explode with vomit. She could barely move, but she pushed herself to anyway. She could see the light coming in through the door of Jackie’s Place, but she couldn’t reach it. 

“Come on!” the real Cody Simpson, who fortunately still had a head, called out to her. “No one gets left behind!” 

He was shepherding Gordon out while Jackie army crawled along the floor with a suspiciously yellow sock held over his mouth. Jake was standing at the door, calling something out to her. She couldn’t hear it.

Seeing Jake at the door was what she needed to dig deep and push herself those final steps out the door. She didn’t need saving. She had saved Jake, in fact, by preventing Joe from shooting him in the head—his most beautiful feature. 

As she reached the outside of Jackie’s Place, and the cloud of orange smoke dissipated, she felt like she could finally breathe again. An exceedingly attractive man dressed in a brown leather jacket ran around from the back of the building. His roguish charm was immediately apparent.
“I came as soon as I got the call,” he said to Jackie. “I just shut off the gas valve to the building, but I still think we need to get everyone in the block out of here.”

“Put in the evacuation order,” Jackie agreed. “There’s something that I need to do first,” he said, before going back into Jackie’s Place. 

“Is it safe to go back in?” Scottie asked the man. 

“He’s Jackie,” the man winked. “He’ll outlive us all.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes Jackie emerged from Jackie’s Place, very much alive. Behind him were the bodies of the three Murtaugh brothers. The darts that were embedded in their necks told Scottie that she had not actually hallucinated that part.

“Are they dead?” the man asked with a cool indifference that was emblematic of his devil may care attitude. 

“They’ll wish they were when they wake up.”