Damnation Code (William Massa) - William Massa Page 0,33
setting off any of his alarm bells. Yet. What had he expected? Watching Serrone as she navigated the crowds, he recognized a similar disappointment on her face. The text message lead had turned into a bust.
Talon tilted his head to his motorcycle… And that’s when the world descended into madness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DETECTIVE SERRONE NAVIGATED through the bustling Apple Store, Grell at her side. Her eyes were roving but she didn’t know what to expect or look for. According to the text, the dead cultist was supposed to meet someone at the store at three o’clock, but the how and why remained a mystery. Jessica marveled at the latest iPhone model and realized she was way past due for an upgrade. Her four-year-old phone had officially attained fossil status.
Grell nodded sagely, as if he could read her mind. “You need to get a new phone, kid.” Grell was a self-proclaimed gadget freak and wouldn’t be caught dead with outdated tech.
“My phone works fine,” Jessica said.
“Your phone is disturbing to me and all these good people working here.”
“I can send texts and make phone calls. Do I need anything else?”
“You’re an old soul,” Grell concluded.
Maybe I’m a single mom raising her seven-year-old daughter on a cop salary, Serrone thought, but kept her mouth shut. Grell meant well.
Serrone approached the Genius Bar as it turned three. Friendly, smart men and women in blue shirts manned the long table, offering help to the never-ending parade of customers. Serrone’s gaze lingered on the logo of the three electrons orbiting an atom – strange that she’d never paid attention to it before.
To her left was a small space reserved for teaching a variety of workshops. It was deserted except for the elderly gentleman catching his breath in one of the empty chairs.
Jessica battled her sense of disappointment and chewed her lower lip, a bad tick she’d developed since the death of her husband. Had she truly expected to stumble upon a secret cult meeting in a bustling retail store? She cursed herself for having wasted their precious time with this nonsense. Judging from the sour expression on her partner’s face, he must’ve come to the same dour conclusion.
“Everything seems pretty normal.”
“No shit.”
Jessica circled the store one more time, her eyes taking in each patron, analyzing every detail about them. There was a young female college student with curious eyes and way too many piercings; a middle-aged African-American male with dreads; a stylishly decked-out gay couple in their late twenties. The faces after a while became a blur, a cross-section of America. Most of them were well-dressed, enthusiastic, filled with excitement and curiosity about the abundance of technological marvels surrounding them.
Serrone was about to call it a day when her face stared back at her from one of the iMacs. Someone had switched on the computer’s webcam. Her gaze roamed the store and spotted a customer switching on webcams, one after another.
Strange.
She turned, eyes scoping. Everywhere the scene repeated itself. She counted about thirteen people making the rounds, moving from desktop to desktop, laptop to laptop, iPad to iPad, iPhone to iPhone in an eerie quest to activate the cameras on all the devices. The maneuver seemed weirdly synchronized and choreographed, almost as if the customers involved were communing with one another on a telepathic level.
What’s going on here?
Serrone’s stomach tightened with a dawning realization. All these people must’ve received the same text message. The insight triggered two words.
Flash mob.
As soon as the idea occurred to her, the first of the suspicious customers whipped out a six-inch blade and drove it into a blue-shirted sales person.
***
Talon’s pulse quickened as the knife plunged into the unsuspecting man’s back and his blue shirt turned red. Shock gave way to pain and the man’s lips distorted into a scream. The knife went in again and again. This was the beginning of the horror. More customers pulled out blades and stabbed the people closest to them. Knives flashed and found soft flesh.
At the center of the savagery stood Serrone and her partner. They drew their firearms and a second later, a bullet bounced off the Apple Store’s storefront window, spiderwebbing its bulletproof surface.
The rising tide of violence galvanized Talon into action. He donned his balaclava mask and pulled the Glock from his shoulder holster. An instant later, he powered through the store’s front entrance. To his right blood geysered from a knife wound and hit the 15-inch MacBook Pro. As he advanced, his image mirrored him on the various computer screens like