The Tragic Incident in Alcine

James strolled down the streets of Alcine, Michigan, soaking in the September sun. He had driven through the upper-class town several times on his way home from work but had never truly visited. As he passed by houses that resembled miniature mansions, he wondered what type of jobs the owners had to have such luxury. Each home had some type of extravagant commodity he could never afford–multiple new cars, swimming pools, or even boats outside of their garages. Every side street he travelled down had something that made him envious.

It’s never fun to have your car break down on the side of the road, but James was glad it happened to him in Alcine. The town was clearly a safe place and was interesting to the average middle-class worker such as him. The homes alone served as a tourist attraction as he waited for his alternator to be replaced by the local mechanic.

James texted his wife as soon as his car had entered the shop on Main Street. She had yet to respond, but he knew she wouldn’t be happy about him coming home late. They were supposed to go out to dinner at his town’s local Chinese restaurant, something that would have to wait until next week. James had kept his stomach mostly empty throughout the day, looking to fill up on the eggroll buffet later. It seemed like a good idea earlier, but now he had his regrets as his stomach began to growl. He could only imagine how expensive a bill at a local Alcine restaurant would be, but it would be something he’d have to deal with.

James began heading west toward the area where he had his car towed. The first venue he saw that offered food was called The Anchor, a small building that sat between a church and a bank. A sign on the outside assured him they served the best seafood in Michigan. He had his doubts about that claim, but anything sounded good at the moment.

James opened the door to be hit by a chill of cool air. The inside consisted of a bar of five tabletops, all constructed of turquoise marble. On the walls hung several model ships and paintings depicting the sea. It was clear this place was of much higher quality than the local dive bar he visited every weekend.

James walked to the bar where a young man in a suit stood behind it. “Hello,” James said. “You guys have a menu I can look at?”

The bartender folded his arms and bent his brow. “I can’t serve you,” he said.

“What?”

“I can’t serve you, sir. I can’t let you in this establishment dressed like that. This is a classy place. We can’t let you walk in here wearing jean shorts and a holey t-shirt.” He placed his hands on the bar. “My old man owns this business. If he were to see someone like you dressed in this place, he’d hit the roof."

James laughed and shook his head, waiting for the bartender to say he was joking. His smile faded when he realized this wasn’t going to happen. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“I am.”

It was time for James to unleash some sarcasm. “Well, I’m so sorry about my terrible apparel, but I just got out of work. I’m sure you know what that’s like when you…oh, wait.” James slapped his hand on the bar and flashed a smile. “No, you probably wouldn't understand what real work is like. You’ve probably just stood behind the bar half of your life while daddy paid your bills.”

The bartender clenched his fists. “Why don’t you just walk out of here, joker. It will be good for you to do that.”

“I’d love to. I’d love to leave your fine establishment, but I have a problem.” James held up his shaking hand. “I’m having blood sugar problems right now, and I’d love to fix that. I don’t even need to eat. I could just chug a couple of those orange juice bottles you’ve got in the cooler.” James pointed at them. “Those would be life savers. Then I can leave this place and go hangout with the rest of the American steerage in this country. How does that sound?”

The bartender shook his head before opening the cooler behind him. He set the orange juices on the bar. “Ten dollars.”

“I figured it’d be expensive.” James pulled out his wallet and paid the man. He was happy when the worker disappeared through a door behind the bar. “What an asshole,” James muttered.

Within thirty seconds, he took down one of the juice containers. The cold liquid froze his mouth and esophagus. While giving his insides a break, he checked out the surroundings inside The Anchor. There was only one table that sat customers. There were three people together in a corner by the front window: one woman and two men. All of them were dressed in outfits probably more expensive than anything James had ever worn. It was true that he was indeed underdressed.

“Oh, please don’t do it,” the old woman at the table said, focusing on the front window.

“Oh, lord. Please don’t do it, sir,” the young man next to her agreed.

James tilted his head, wondering what they were talking about as the entire table focused on what was outside. It didn’t take long for him to notice a ragged man sitting on the sidewalk across the street. The beggar extended his hand to a man who stood over him.

“Don’t give that freeloader anything,” the older man at the table said.

James let out a sigh and shook his head. Was this what the rich did in their free time, stare down homeless people and root for others to not lend a helping hand? It wouldn’t surprise him if this was their daily routine.

“Oh, thank god,” the woman said while clapping her hands together.

James checked out the window. The stranger who stood over the vagrant was leaving the area.

“I thought for sure he was going to give that piece of shit a dollar,” the young man said. He adjusted his tie. “Let’s hope his behavior is contagious.”

The elderly people agreed with him.

“This town is loaded with dick heads,” James whispered to himself.

He cracked open the second juice bottle and began sipping it.

His phone vibrated. He dug it out of his pocket to see that his wife had texted back. With hope that she wouldn’t be too angry, he unlocked his phone.

“Ok. Looks like we’re cancelling plans today. Please be safe and keep me updated on your car,” she said. It sounded more relaxed than what he expected.

James took a few more sips of his juice when the table behind him began to make a ruckus again.

“Don’t do it, you slut,” the old woman shouted.

“Walk away, woman,” the young man said.

“Don’t talk to him!” The old man pounded his hand on the table.

Across the street, the homeless man was now talking to a blonde woman in a revealing red dress. After exchanging a few words with him, she shook her head and scurried off.

The table let out a sigh of relief.

James had had enough of the smug restaurant. He chugged what was left of his juice and made his way out the front door.

After passing a small crowd, James waited at the nearest intersection. When traffic cleared, he dashed across the street toward the vagrant. The middle-aged man looked up at him with shame in his eyes.

“How are you doing today, sir?” James asked.

“Hello, mister,” the man said. “Do you have any change? I haven’t eaten in days.”

“I have more than that for you today,” James said enthusiastically. He reached for his wallet and pulled out what singles he had. “I have four bucks right here for you.” The man’s eyes lit up as James gave him the money.

“Oh my gosh, thank you!”

“Just do me one little favor.” James turned back to The Anchor to see the three rich people shaking their heads at him. “Can you just give those people inside of that building a big smile and a wave? Here, I’ll do it with you.”

“Okay.”

They both gave a friendly wave. James loved seeing the horror on the faces of the rich snobs…until he heard the shots.

The front window of The Anchor shattered as bullets began piercing the bodies of the customers.

James became a statue as a series of blasts continued to echo in the town. People on the sidewalk began to cower, scream, and run. The ladder sounded intelligent.

Run, James! he told himself.

He didn’t know what direction was the safest, but anywhere would be better than standing in front of The Anchor. He unfroze his feet and darted west. It took only a block for him to become fatigued, but this didn’t stop him from jogging as fast as he could.

An elderly couple on the sidewalk trudged toward him.

“Don’t go that way!” James screamed at them. They looked up in confusion. “There’s been a shooting! Turn around and go as fast as you can!”

After passing them, James yelled at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen. “There’s an active shooter!” He repeated the sentence until his voice gave out.

Screams echoed in the distance as he turned down an alley. They were eventually drowned out by distant sirens.

#

Hours later, James had just finished telling his story at the police station. He sat in the Sheriff’s office trying to catch his breath. Reliving his tale had brought upon a sudden panic attack. Tears wanted to escape his eyes, but he held them back.

“Take as much time as you need,” the Sheriff said. He had been taking notes at his desk while James retold the horrors from earlier.

James rubbed his fingers into his eyes. “Do you guys have any idea what happened there?” he asked. “I know it’s only been a small amount of time since the incident, but do you have any clue as to why those people got shot?”

“All we know is that there are officially five people dead,” the Sheriff said in a regretful tone. “We don’t have anyone in custody just yet, but we’re looking.”

James placed his arms on the desk and leaned forward. “So, was this just another random mass shooting? Were the owners of that place part of a crime ring or something?”

The Sheriff tilted his head back and forth, clearly not knowing how to explain what he knew. “We think it gets much…weirder than that.”

James winced his eyes. “How so?”

“We gathered the surveillance footage from that place–from The Anchor. What we do know is that the two real owners were dead long before you got there. The man who served you–the man who was being rude–he was one of the two assailants.”

A chill went through James. He evidently had an exchange with a murderer today, and he wasn’t too nice to the sociopath.

“We know who the people were that got shot,” the Sheriff continued. “They were the Rodrigo family. They’re a nice group of people who get lunch up there every day. Those people were being held against their will by the two guys that burst in there and took over the place. It turns out those sick people were playing a little bit of a game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah. The family was put at gunpoint and told they would live as long as no one helped that homeless man. If a few more minutes passed without him getting charity, they said they were going to let them go.”

James pulled back as his jaw fell to the floor.

“I didn’t want to tell you that,” the Sheriff said. “I didn’t want you to feel guilty for doing what you did. There’s a really good possibility that the criminals would have popped them anyway if you hadn’t. Try not to feel bad. Just be happy that you’re alive and well.”

James was alive, but he certainly wasn’t well. Being a nice guy to a man in need caused the deaths of three people that day. He understood that the world was a brutal place, but it had gotten colder today. “How could anyone do this?”

“It happens a lot now. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term dark web, but the people who shot up the place, let’s just say that they’re trying to be celebrities on there.”

“The dark web? What do you mean?”

“It’s a grim place on the internet that–”

“I know what it is.” James nodded. “But what does it have to do with this whole thing?”

“It turns out those goons in the restaurant brought their own cameras. They planned on posting their little game show online. It’s sadly gotten popular on the dark web over the past year. It’s real sick stuff, sir.”

Indeed, the thought made James want to vomit.

His phone made a jingle. After he fetched it from his pocket, he read a relieving text message: his wife was in the lobby.

“That’s my better half,” he said. He stood up and extended his hand to the Sheriff. “I hope you guys get them.”

“Me too.” The Sheriff shook his hand. “Just try to relax for a few days. Maybe take a couple days off work. It could really help mentally.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

James exited the Sheriff's office, thankful to have escaped the incident without a scratch. However, he hated the thought that he might be a new star in the disturbing corners of the internet.