I wish I could flip a switch and get what I want.
For example, that asshole Brother Quincy's back in charge of my buddy Knox's body. The whole drive across town from Posse Ranch, he either sulks or mouths off from the back seat of the Hummer. What I wouldn't give to flip a switch and put Knox in the driver's seat full-time.
"They're gone by now, you know." That's Quincy's latest. "Dunne and Hannahlee are probably halfway to Los Angeles by now. With Cyrus Gowdy."
"You think so, huh?" I look at his fat face in the rear-view mirror. "Tough break for you, then, ending up stuck here with me."
"I say let's make the best of a bad fituation," says Quincy. "Have you ever heard my famous War Willow slashficfilk medley? It was a Pegasus award-winner!"
"Maybe later." I swing past Justice Commons and head toward Crucible Mountain. As annoying as Quincy is, I take heart.
We're almost there.
Of course, that presents another problem. How do I put Knox back at the wheel and keep Quincy stowed in the trunk?
Quincy whistles a little tune, then sniffs. "I wonder how close Dunne and Hannahlee are to L.A. right now?"
I can't help but chuckle. This guy is priceless.
"Maybe we should go after them, huh?" I shoot a look at Weed in the passenger's seat beside me. His eye twinkles, so I know he's caught my drift.
"Maybe we should." Weed raises his walkie-talkie. "All units, head for Los Angeles, California immediately." There's no crackle, so I can tell he didn't transmit.
"Thanks for the tip, Quincy," I say. "Now we're sure to catch them."
Quincy looks around for a minute. "L.A.'s that way." He hikes a thumb in the direction we just came from. "Might want to turn around."
"Sure thing." I look over at Weed, who's grinning behind his beard. "Don't know what we'd do without you."
Quincy leans forward and pushes his head between the seats. "So why are we still heading for Waystation Cemetery?"
"Because this is where we're gonna plant you," says Weed.
Again, I have to laugh. "Relax. You'll live."
"So why are we here?" says Quincy.
"This is where the secret tunnel comes out," I tell him. "This is where everything comes out. Starting with a pal of mine you might have heard of."
"Who's that?" says Quincy.
I park the Hummer inside the cemetery gate...then whip around in my seat and grab him by the throat.
"Knox Pittenger." I tighten my grip, and his eyes bulge like apples. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
"I hope he'll be okay," said Hannahlee. "We'll have to wait and see."
Hannahlee sat on the edge of the bed beside Leif, who was sleeping after surgery. She laid the back of her hand against his forehead, estimating his temperature.
"He's warm, but not too warm, I think." Next, Hannahlee pressed the back of her hand against Leif's cheeks, one and then the other. "Too soon to tell."
"You did great." Gowdy, standing behind her, squeezed her shoulder. "I for one was mighty impressed."
"Did the best I could." Hannahlee frowned. "Could've done better with the right equipment."
"I doubt it." Gowdy kissed the top of her head. "I doubt anyone could have done any better under any circumstances."
Dunne was surprised that Hannahlee let Gowdy kiss her like that. Then again, he had wondered if the two of them were once an item.
In the Willowtopia online game, Hannahlee had asked Gowdy's spokespeople a question only he would be able to answer: what did she call Gowdy when they were alone? The answer: "Trigger."
The current public display of affection, however, spoke volumes more than any double-entendre pet name.
"So we wait." Gowdy brushed his hand along the back of Hannahlee's neck. "Figure out what to do next."
"What we need to do is figure out how to rescue Quincy," said Dunne.
"Quincy?" said Gowdy.
"Our partner," said Dunne. "He's been helping us look for you. The last I saw him, he was bailing out of our firebombed rent-a-car at Posse Ranch."
"We can't help Quincy yet," said Hannahlee. "We can't leave or move Leif until he's stable."
Dunne sighed. "I hope Quincy lasts that long. Weed must have him by now."
"Weed won't hurt Quincy," said Hannahlee. "Not when he might be able to use him against us."
"I hope you're right," said Dunne. "I wish there was something we could do to help Quincy right now."
"There's something Cyrus can do right now to help us." Hannahlee whipped out a folded piece of paper (from where, Dunne couldn't be sure) and flapped it open in front of Gowdy's face. "He can sign this release form."
Gowdy sidestepped the form without laying a hand on it. "I already told Dunne here. Not a chance."
Hannahlee hopped off the bed and followed him. "It's a one-time waiver of your right of refusal. That's all it is."
"The one smart thing I've done in my career?" Gowdy said it to Dunne. "Maybe the only smart thing? I've never signed a piece of paper like that."
"Don't you want to see them bring back Weeping Willows?" said Hannahlee. "Put you back in the spotlight? Who knows what it could lead to."
Gowdy snatched the paper from her fingers and waved it at Dunne. "That one, last release. I've never signed it. Not for Willows, not for any of my projects."
"Cyrus, please," said Hannahlee.
Gowdy was still talking to Dunne. "Maybe, to get a show made, I had to sign most rights away to a studio...but I never gave up a refusal clause. Because that's all you need in the end." Gowdy shook the paper roughly. "One inch of leverage."
Gowdy swung around and handed the paper to Hannahlee. She glared at him with her fiery emerald eyes...but she took it.
"Without that leverage," said Gowdy, "I would not have had the bargaining power to get the money I've needed. None of the things I've accomplished would have become a reality."
"Like Gaudíland?" Hannahlee's tone was sarcastic.
"Yeah." Gowdy flashed her a smile. "Like Gaudíland."
"Actually," said Hannahlee, "it's Martianland, now. Somebody doused it in bright green paint. And it's not exactly booming, is it, Dunne?"
Dunne just shrugged.
Gowdy walked around the table and chairs, hands clasped behind his back. "That was the first thing I did after Day 8. The fulfillment of a lifelong dream."
"To wipe out your savings?" said Hannahlee.
"To bring the work of Antoni Gaudí to America." Gowdy pushed his ruby-rimmed glasses along the bridge of his nose. "He's been my idol since I was a kid. He was a true creative genius. The greatest, most original architect who ever lived."
Dunne nodded. "The models in Gaudíland were pretty unique."
"The ones that weren't doused in green paint," said Hannahlee.
"Actually, the 'Martianland' theme kind of fits," said Gowdy. "Gaudí's work looked like it came from an alien planet. There was nobody else like him.
"That was how I wanted to be." Gowdy stopped circling the table and met Dunne's gaze. "I patterned my career after him. I wanted my work to be like his—unprecedented, controversial, irreproducible, eternal."
"Well, I think you succeeded," said Dunne, "with Weeping Willows, anyway."
"Exactly." Gowdy's eyes widened. "That was why, when Gaudíland went under, I started this." He flung his arms overhead. "New Justice."
"Another theme park, huh?" Hannahlee rubbed her chin. "How come no one's ever heard of this place?"
Gowdy grinned. "Because it never opened."
"What? Why?" said Dunne.
"It evolved." Gowdy cupped his hands together, then slowly spread them apart as if they encompassed a growing thing. "I stopped thinking 'theme park' and started thinking 'utopia.'"
At that moment, Leif groaned and tossed in the bed, and Hannahlee hurried over to him. "'Utopia?'" she said on the way. "In a replica of a fictional town from a 70s cop drama?"
"What better place?" said Gowdy. "What better town than Justice, where tolerance, compassion, equality, peace, and faith are woven into the fabric of everyday life? Where men and women live in perfect harmony with each other, with God, and with nature? Where a one-of-a-kind social code ensures that all that's finest in humanity will thrive, and all that's darkest will be enlightened and reclaimed?"
Hannahlee sat on the bed beside Leif and checked his temperature. "It's a fictional town, Cyrus," she said.
"So was Atlantis," said Gowdy. "So was Shangri-La."
"Where did you get the people?" said Dunne.
"Actors and fans, mostly," said Gowdy. "Every one of them signed an airtight nondisclosure agreement. Most of them have never left, though."
"So your utopia worked?" said Dunne.
Gowdy slumped onto one of the wooden chairs at the table. Leaning forward, he propped an elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand. "Actually, it was another Day 8. A complete failure."
Hannahlee flicked one of Leif's eyelids open and stared intently at the pupil. Satisfied, she closed the lid and got up from the bed. "What went wrong?"
"We used New Justice as a laboratory," said Gowdy. "We tried lots of variations on the social concepts featured in the show. Something always went wrong, and we had to start over.
"The last thing we tried was the religious angle. We developed a new system based on the show's Everyfaith concept. When that didn't catch fire, we finally gave up."
Dunne walked over to the table and sat down across from Gowdy. "When you say 'we,' who are you talking about?"
Gowdy shrugged. "Me and my partner, Lou Mendez." He grinned at Hannahlee. "Lianna, you remember Lou. He played Jeremiah Weed on the show."
"I remember." Hannahlee said it like the memory wasn't a good one.
"Wait a minute," said Dunne. "You mean to tell me the Jeremiah Weed who's killing everyone up there..." He pointed at the ceiling. "...is the same guy who played Weed on the show? And he's your partner?"
"Was my partner." Gowdy nodded. "I didn't know he was killing people until today. Hell, I didn't even know he was still up there. I didn't know anyone was still up there in New Justice."
"When was the last time you looked at your security cameras?" said Dunne. "Before today when we switched them back on, that is."
Gowdy thought for a moment. "A year ago, I guess. I've been in contact with the outside world via the Internet, but New Justice was supposed to be empty. The last time I checked the cameras was before I went underground."
"Before you died, you mean."
At the sound of Leif's voice, everyone turned to look in his direction. He still lay flat on his back in bed, but his eyes were open, and his left hand was up in the air.
Pointing at Gowdy.
"Either I'm dead, too, or someone's full of shit," said Leif. "Because you're supposed to be a dead man, Cyrus Gowdy."