THREE DAYS AFTER HE WAS MURDERED, RICHARD PRATT BEGAN TO FEEL MUCH BETTER...
A seemingly random act of violence propels Professor Richard Pratt into The Hereafter. It is a strange, muted, netherworld of the dead-a world in which he is forced to bear...
It only took forty-one seconds for the lights to come on. But by that time, six people were already dead. All but one were teenagers. Another dozen were wounded, with gashes ranging from minor on arms and legs and hands, to life-threatening wounds on the face, neck, and torso.
The weapon, the police would later divulge, was a simple six-inch Bowie knife, honed to a razor-sharp edge on both the top and bottom of the blade, with a beautiful wood handle, inlaid with silver filigree in the shape of a spreading tree. They found the sheath for the knife in the trash at the door of the theater. The knife itself they would find buried deep in the murderer; wedged so tightly into the roof of his mouth that the coroner would need a bone saw to remove it.
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Whenever Bradley Seward could score a three-day leave pass from the base, he would take his wife and two girls into Salt Lake City for the weekend.
He knew acutely that life in the army town of Dugway, in the middle of the desert directly west of Salt Lake City, was unrelentingly dull. And if it bored him, he could only imagine how it gnawed at his girls. There was literally nothing within a thirty minute drive of the tiny town, which was intentionally situated in the middle of nowhere. And as long as he was on duty, his family was locked behind one of the most closely guarded security perimeters in the nation.
The little town had everything a family would need, from shopping to schools and recreation facilities. But no matter how big or well appointed the cage, Bradley knew, his little birds longed for the outside world.
Luckily, his wife Carol's mother lived in Salt Lake City, and she loved having them visit. Her rules were pretty simple: They could stay for the weekend, but she expected them all to attend church services at the local Mormon ward house with her on Sunday morning. Bradley didn't mind. Neither her nor his wife was particularly religious, but they both felt that the influence of their grandmother could do nothing but good for his girls. At ages ten and thirteen, they were at a good age to be exposed to a little religion. They could make their own choices about whether they wanted to stick with it when they got older.
Their long-weekend routine was pretty predictable. When they arrived in town on Friday night, they would drop off their bags and change their clothes at Nana's house. Then they always made it a point to see a movie, usually in the theaters at the Valley Fair Mall, just five minutes from the house. If they could get out of Dugway at a reasonable hour, they could aim for either a 6:00 or 7:00 show, and be home in time for a late dinner with Grandma.
Unfortunately, today they had gotten a late start. They hadn't been able to leave Dugway until well after 9:00, so they wouldn't roll into town until almost 10:00. Bradley had suggested they skip the movie and go right to their Grandma's house, but the girls, perhaps sensing an opening how only adolescent girls can, insisted there was plenty of time. Huddled over their phones on the way, they found a somewhat questionable horror film that had an 10:20 start time at the mall. They'd make it in time, if they went straight there.
