DAY 8 REPORT

As the remaining townsfolk gathered at Federation Square, it became apparent how dire their situation was. Only seven people were left and no-one knew for sure who were members of the Overcoat Gang, nor how many members of the gang actually remained. Concern was etched on every face as the day’s events began.

The accusations were immediate. Tara pointed at Calvin. Steven pointed at Jessie. Allan pointed at Richard. Everyone was determined to find those guilty of murdering their friends. The entire crowd was wrapped up in furious conversation, analysing each comment, all aware of how little time was left.

Although Jess and Jessie may have been physically present, their minds were obviously elsewhere. Their wandering gazes and delayed responses made those seeking answers irritated, but for the time being most moved on to other targets for their questions and interrogations.

Suddenly Allan was the topic of conversation. Whilst some insisted nothing seemed amiss with his behaviour, others were sure he had been suspicious from the start. Allan responded to each accusation, insisting he had done nothing wrong, yet half the group refused to listen or be swayed by his response. By the time the sun was lowering in the sky, three townsfolk may have chosen to look elsewhere for a guilty party, but four were determined to see Allan pay for his alleged crimes.

The day turned to dusk and just like that, they pushed Allan to the ground. Two held an arm each, one held his legs, and the fourth person took a capsule from a tin in his pocket. Without speaking or smiling, they grabbed Allan’s head, placed the capsule in his mouth, and forced him to swallow. The cyanide acted immediately, Allan closed his eyes, took several gasps and then he was gone.

Louise had seen the events from her store window, and once everyone had wandered off she called triple 000. Soon after, a thorough investigation into Allan’s true identity was carried out, but there was nothing to be found other than some old felonies. Allan truly was just an ex-con.

Much later that evening, Chopper was at it again. He knew his next victim liked to make dinner reservations, often returning home late at night. So he waited in the shadows under trees in the small park his victim would walk through to get home. He saw them approaching, oblivious to their surroundings, bee-lining for home. He took his opportunity to pounce. He slid out a chain from his pocket, crept up behind, and pulled the chain taut around their neck. Chopper glanced around to ensure they were still alone, then lowered the woman’s limp body to the ground. He looked at her for a moment, grinning to himself, lit a cigarette and walked away into the night.

Early the next morning the body was discovered. Shortly after it was confirmed the body belonged to Jess L., a quiet but well-liked ex-con. Her presence will be missed.

With only a handful of townsfolk remaining, have the Overcoat Gang won? Have town sealed their fate or is there still time for justice? The innocents cannot afford to get the next lynch wrong!

DAY 7 REPORT

The crowd gathering at Federation Square was a sorry sight. Only 9 members of town remained, and fear was growing that it was too late to stop Chopper. They wandered in, no sign of the previous day’s excitement, with their heads down and grim expressions on every face.

Once they had all arrived Tara addressed the group. “Perhaps all is not lost? Abbey could have been Margeret in disguise.” The group looked at each other and shrugged, with Chopper still slaughtering their friends each night this was not a worthy exchange.

“Forget about that. We have to find the guilty ones amongst those of us remaining!” shouted Maatua. Everyone agreed with this statement and conversation ensued. The crowd chirped and chatted, testing different names, scrutinising each other’s actions, until there were 3 suspects up for questioning: Gemma, Calvin, and Jessie. These 3 were pushed to the front of the crowd so they could answer for their suspicious moves.

After much deliberation, Calvin was returned back to the main group, the suspicion lifted from him for now. He was visibly relieved as he shrank back into the crowd. Now that the townsfolk had narrowed their guilty assumptions down to 2 people, they found it hard to decide. “We can’t afford to get this wrong” muttered someone from the crowd, as the sun began to sink lower in the sky.

People debated and swapped theories, Gemma and Jessie pleaded and explained their actions, and the townsfolk powered on throwing question after question at the two women. In the final few minutes of the day, the crowd made their decision – Gemma was the one they deemed guilty. As if it knew what was to come, the sky above shone red, and as the sun threatened to vanish completely, Allan took a gun from his hip and fired a single bullet into Gemma’s head. “The train has reached its final stop” he whispered with a sullen look while looking down at her lifeless body.

The townsfolk wandered off, slowly walking back to their homes where they would caress both their guilt and their sadness. As Louise locked her storefront, she noticed Gemma’s corpse. She wandered over with keys still in hand and searched Gemma’s purse. Inside was all of her personal information and IDs and it was confirmed that Gemma was just a poor ex-con.

At 1am, as the townsfolk tossed in their beds, the remaining members of the Overcoat Gang discussed their next moves. “We’ve almost got them beat” grinned Chopper. “Let’s take out another tonight” yawned one of the others. They discussed possible targets and the pros and cons of each as the darkness deepened outside. An hour later Chopper stood up, content with their decision, and took a hatchet from his kitchen before strolling to his ute.

A short time later a male member of town was awoken by their dog barking. He rolled out of bed and went to the front door. Through the peephole he could see the outline of a man, but it was too dark to see features. In his sleepy state, he locked the dog in the lounge and opened the door. Before he could say a single word, Chopper forced his way inside, and pushed the man to the ground. Minutes later Chopper returned to his ute covered in blood and drove away.

The next morning the man’s body was found, bloody and bludgeoned, with a hatchet laying beside him. His dental records identified him to be Maatua, a gentle and helpful ex-con who had long put his past behind him. He will be sadly missed.

The dawn of this new day was greeted with excitement by the townsfolk. As the crowd gathered once more there were cheers and hollers all around. Though the group was rapidly dwindling in number, the lynch of a member of Chopper’s posse the day before had left a smile on everyone’s face. As soon as they arrived the accusations began, mostly aimed at Abbey. “It’s obvious you were being coached by Jimmy” someone shouted at her. She glared back at the crowd. “I’m not a simpleton, you know. I don’t need coaching. Regardless, I am innocent.” She folded her arms in defiance and stood her ground. They all ignored her and continued to discuss her fate, as if she wasn’t there. “Her and Jimmy were in it together,” they said “we have to take her out next.”

Maatua made no hesitation. By midday he had his hand tightly locked around Abbey’s bicep. “I’m not letting you go this time” he growled at her. She struggled for a moment but soon subsided. Other members of the crowd looked for heavy objects to throw. “This one’s for Jake” shouted Calvin as he threw a rock at Abbey’s head. “And this is for Detective Bob!” screamed Jessie, hurling a beer bottle at Abbey’s chest, it’s remaining contents splashing over her clothes and across her and Maatua’s faces. He ran a calloused hand over his face to wipe away the beer dregs not at all perturbed to be included in the beer shower.

The crowd grew louder, the noise drowning out the sounds of the trams trundling through the busy Flinders Street / Spencer’s Street intersection near by. Between angry shouts from the mob and Abbey’s fatigued screams, the ruckus could be heard blocks away. Objects continued flying through the air aimed at Abbey, anything the townsfolk could find to lob. Eventually, long before sundown, Abbey stopped making any noises at all. Her body had gone limp in Maatua’s grip and she sank to the stone pavement covered in blood. Maatua knelt down and felt her neck for a pulse. A moment later he stood up, “She’s dead!” he proclaimed loudly. Collectively the crowd pumped their fisted arms into the air, raising their arms and voices in triumph.

Having sated their thirst for so-called justice and feeling content with their work for a self proclaimed shortened work day, they all wandered up to the pub for a celebratory drink. One member turned back slightly having thought he’d heard the voice of fallen member Matt muttering something, but Louise put an arm around their waist, turning them around, telling them they were hearing things, ghosts can’t talk to the living.

Unfortunately, they all wouldn’t learn until hours later that they may have been celebrating an unjust murder. The coroner searched Abbey’s body for ID and found her licence tucked snugly into a pants packet. It simply read ‘Abbey T’, she was an ex-con.

As the moon shone over the Yarra reflecting on its waters, Chopper was restless and like the river was unable to keep still. He continued to mourn the loss of his closest friend and one death in payback didn’t seem like nearly enough to sate his revenge. He looked at the list he had compiled of remaining ex-cons in town. “Who wants a date with me tonight?” he muttered, chuckling bitterly to himself. After a moment’s deliberation, he took a pen and scribbled out one of the names. “Bingo” he said aloud, as he gathered car keys and walked out the door.

No more than 15-minutes later, a member of the town heard his doorbell ring. He rolled out of bed, slid into a pair of jeans, and stumbled to the door. “Hello?” he mumbled as he opened the door not having bothered to turn on the outdoor light, but before he could utter another word a bullet hit him in the chest forcing him to stumble as the shock of the bullet had him collapsing to the floor. Chopper stepped forward, standing over the body, and shot him twice more, once more in the chest and finally in the head, the insurance shot. Using his booted foot he shoved the body further inside the house before turning and shutting the door behind him as he walked away. “Nice gun, Jimmy” he said with a smile to himself as he slid the silenced handgun back into his coat pocket, got back into his Ford ute and drove away.

The next morning the man was identified as Max W. He had turned over a new leaf since his release from prison and was now just an honest ex-con. Rest in peace young Max.

Will the town be able to find the remainder of the Overcoat Gang or will Chopper win overall? As town numbers continue to dwindle, timing is quickly running out.

Day 4

After the death of two cops, a doctor and two innocent townsfolk, the mood in the city was grim. People wandered into the cobbled forecourt of Federation Square. Some sat on the steps overlooking the Yarra, others gathered in smaller groups, but all talked about the recent deaths and their own parts in the unfortunate peril of so many innocents.

Maatua, one of the more outspoken people, was the first to throw out a vote. He walked up Spencer Street to City Hall and cast a vote against Allan. Murmurs began drifting through the crowd. “Where’s Allan?” “Isn’t he usually here by now?” A local shopkeeper, Louise, heard the voices and shouted to the crowd that he usually rang through his morning order for pickup but she hadn’t heard from him yet today, which was unusual.

Tara quickly jumped onto the Allan bandwagon. Another person within the crowd began to make steam train noises, which had a few people chuckling, breaking the otherwise somber mood. Although there was a rising swell of voice against Allan in his absence, Jake refused to board the train, instead throwing out Steven’s name. This did not go down well with Steven but there were a number of voices within the crowd who were also beginning to look his way.

After nearly an hour of debate, accusations, and counter-claims, there were several names on the figurative board. Looking suspicious seemed to be the newest fashion with Allan, Max, Steven, Jess and Abbey all having their names bandied about.

Those who had previously been sitting on the steps, some smoking, some drinking, all by now had joined the group, however Allan was still noted by his absence. More names were thrown out with one Melburnian giving a long list of why he was innocent and why eyes should look elsewhere. Max had many people pointing fingers his way, firstly with Michael and then Tara, changing her opinion from Allan and moving to Max instead. Suddenly things were moving very quickly with opinions frequently changing. 

Would there be a tie? If Allan were to show up, would he decide the tie breaker? Was Steven part of the Overcoat Gang? What about Max?

Then came an even bolder move! Steven changed his accusations from Jess to Abbey. Jess followed suit, pointing her finger at Abbey also. The crowd was divided. Nearly a third were looking at Steven, with an equal amount at Max and Abbey.

As the sun was getting low in the sky, far behind schedule for his call to Louise but still in time to place his order, Allan came walking into the square and up to the crowd. He was quickly bombarded with people talking to him and at him from all around. What did he think about all this? Who did he think was guilty?

Allan casually sipped his coffee, listening to the voices and conversations, accusations and suppositions and calmly pointed his finger at Abbey. Crushing his now empty coffee cup, he sent it for four points into the nearest rubbish bin, then stood feet apart, arms folded across his chest and glared across the space between the three groups as if daring anyone to move before close of business.

Move they did. Brianna darted away from one group who were holding Abbey by her arms and instead joined those who were surrounding Max. Jake upon seeing this quickly jumped over to take a grip on Abbey.

As the sun set over the Yarra, sending shadows and a chill through the cooling air, the crowd realised that they were at a stalemate. The train had not been derailed, but had in fact ran out of fuel with several carriages split in two. There were as many people restraining Abbey as there were holding onto Max. There were only two people holding Steven’s outstretched arms and as he tugged to get free, they looked at each other and released him.

Abbey and Max were also released with mumbled apologies and offers of a drink at the pub. “No hard feelings, eh?”. There would be no justice for town this night. The Overcoat Gang would continue to wreak havoc.

A short time later a car turned onto Spencer Street, the driver eyeing the stragglers of the dispersing crowd as they slowly drove by. Chopper pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. From inside, he watched two figures walk up along the sidewalk, with one waving to the other as they parted ways. One figure turned left into the park and the other walked across the lights toward the Art Gallery. Flicking a cigarette butt out the window, Chopper started the car and drove up and around the corner, the car lights hitting the lone figure walking on the sidewalk through the darkened stretch of road. “Got ya, ya bugger” he said to himself and he slowed the car to a stop. He jumped out, grabbing the man from behind, gave him a solid whack on the head to knock him out and bundled him into the car. Chopper took off with a grin on his face and a freshly lit cigarette in his mouth.

The next morning the news reported on the body of a man found behind a dumpster in the city. His left arm and right leg had been cut off with a circular saw and been placed behind the torso to prop the man up. There were tire marks near the body but as the laneway was frequently used, there was not enough evidence to go by. The man was later identified as Michael Q, a newer resident of the city. He had a troubled past with a brief stint in prison, but his ex-con background failed to stop him from having become a useful member of society.