I’m expecting to be here a long time, but to my surprise Rage turns up about an hour after my other old roommates have departed. He doesn’t bother knocking, just pushes straight in and grins lazily at me. “Time to get your arse in gear.”
“Leave with you?” I snort. “I don’t think so.”
“Owl Man sent me,” he says. “You’re to consider yourself summoned.”
I get up and follow Rage to the door. I pause when I get there and stare at the space beyond. I try to step through, but my feet won’t move. Rage watches me with a sly smirk.
“Try taking baby steps,” he says.
“Get stuffed,” I grunt, then shake my head. “This is useless. I can’t leave.”
Rage’s smile widens. He spreads his arms like a magician and says in a deep voice, “Alakazam, alakazoo, Becky Smith, come on through.”
I try again, but it’s like there’s an invisible barrier between me and the corridor.
“This is stupid,” I spit, taking a step back. “You’re just messing with me.”
“Yeah,” Rage chuckles, then his smile fades. “But I’m not anymore. The truth is in the eyes.”
“What does that mean?” I frown.
“It means I’m saying it’s okay for you to leave the room now.”
I stare at Rage suspiciously, not wanting to be taken for a fool again.
“Seriously this time,” he says. “Trust me.”
“Never,” I reply automatically, but take a couple of steps forward regardless, and this time I cross the threshold without any problems.
“Told you so,” Rage says smugly.
I scratch my head. “How did you do that?”
He shrugs. “The words are a control mechanism. They put you under the thumb of the person who says them.” He turns and thrusts his bum in my direction. “Get down on your knees and kiss it, Becky.”
For a horrified second I think I’m going to be compelled to obey his command, but the urge to kneel doesn’t take me. “Up yours,” I retort with relief.
Rage laughs. “Owl Man told me I wouldn’t be able to manipulate you the way he can, but I thought I’d give it a go. He said I can’t use the phrase to pull your strings, only counter an order that he’s already given.”
“Any order?” I ask.
“I guess so,” Rage says.
“Let’s try it,” I smile. “Tell me I’m in complete control of myself again, and we’ll see what happens.”
Rage laughs. “You wish! No, you’d knock me out and take off. We’re not letting you slip through our fingers that easily. Owl Man’s been a lot of fun to work for. We have a beautiful relationship. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“Seems like he doesn’t trust you as much as you trust him though,” I sneer.
“What are you talking about?” Rage huffs.
I nod at the corner of a building across the way. Sakarias is there, watching us intently.
“Owly sent his dog to keep an eye on you,” I chuckle.
Rage’s face darkens. Then he sniffs. “I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust me too much either in his shoes.”
“How does it feel, having a lower place in the pecking order than a dog?” I ask, looking to wind him up.
“Doesn’t bother me in the slightest,” Rage says. “It’s a dog-eat-dog world, so as long as the hound doesn’t attack me, I’m happy to be its second. I’ll even snap it a salute and call it sir if Owl Man tells me to.”
“Brownnoser,” I grumble.
“And loving the smell,” he laughs, and leads me on.
I try to strike the back of his head, hatching wild plans of killing him, then dealing with Sakarias–even though I know I wouldn’t stand a chance against the mutant dog–and fleeing. But my hand won’t rise. I’m still under orders not to hit anyone. Rage hasn’t countermanded that instruction.
I could simply turn and run, but I wouldn’t get very far—there are too many people around. If I try to break free, Owl Man might place even more restrictions on me. Better to wait until the odds are in my favor before I make my move.
I notice lots of new faces as we’re working our way through the cluster of buildings. Most are soldiers, but there are some Klanners among them too. I stiffen when I spot the creeps in the white robes and hoods.
“I know,” Rage growls. “I hate them too. I don’t draw many lines–my motto’s live and let live–but those sons of bitches are an exception.”
“Why side with them then?” I ask.
“Nothing to do with me,” he says. “Your beloved Dr. Oystein dealt them in. If such a wise and peaceful man wants to party with the Ku Klux Klan, who am I to disagree?”
I scowl at Rage, still wanting to stick up for the doc somehow, despite all that he has done and is planning.
“Dr. Oystein needs their help to overcome Mr. Dowling,” Rage says softly as we pass through the ranks of soldiers and Klanners. “I bet he hasn’t told them what he’s got lined up if they win. They wouldn’t be so eager to pledge themselves to his cause if they knew that he was setting all of the living up for extinction.”
“We’d really throw the cat among the pigeons if we told them,” I mutter.
Rage nods. “I thought about that. I was chatting with Ingrid earlier–she’s not as fond of me as she used to be, not after the Pearse and Conall incident, but she was prepared to listen to my side of the story–and I thought about filling her in and letting her tell the others. But, as sweet as that would be, it will be even sweeter if we proceed as planned. I want to see the crazy Dowling brothers square off against one another.”
We come to a set of stairs and trot up three flights to an ordinary room. There’s no sign that this is a command hub, except for the people present. Dr. Oystein and Owl Man are there, along with Master Zhang and Reilly. A few army officers are also in attendance. I know one of them, Josh Massoglia, a captor of mine from way back. He winks in a friendly way when he sees me, but I ignore him and focus on the final pair, a man and woman. The man is in KKK robes, though he’s removed the hood. The woman is wearing a sharp, stylish business suit.
Justin Bazini and Vicky Wedge.
“I thought you two were dead,” I snap at the smiling members of the now-defunct Board.
“You wrote us off too soon,” the billionaire Bazini says smoothly. “It was a close call, but we evaded Mr. Dowling’s dread troops. You know what we’re like, Miss Smith—we always have an exit strategy.”
“Disappointed to see us?” Vicky Wedge smirks. She used to be a right-wing politician. My dad thought she was fabulous.
“Not at all,” I smile. “This way I’ll hopefully get to see both of you die. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it will be slow and horrible.”
Justin and Vicky laugh but Dr. Oystein doesn’t. He looks at me sadly, as if he’s ashamed of the company he’s been forced to keep. The odd thing is, I think he really does feel uncomfortable having to strike a deal with scum like this. The doc would rather do things his own way, without having to rely on the power-mad likes of Justin Bazini and Vicky Wedge. But he’s a realist. He knows that sometimes he has to sell his soul in order to proceed. It’s a price he’s willing to pay, convinced as he is that God is asking it of him.
“Good to see you again, Becky,” Josh says.
“I can’t say the same,” I toss back.
The soldier who was once my prison warden makes a face. “Don’t forget that I set you free all those months ago. I could have torched you along with the rest of the zom heads.”