The babies cart me through the complex, Mr. Dowling lolloping along behind, Kinslow and Owl Man bringing up the rear. He bombards me with scenes from some of his favorite romantic films as we proceed–most are ancient black-and-white weepies–along with spliced images of the pair of us, beaming like the happy couples in the movie clips.
I doggedly ignore the clown’s mental feed, arms crossed, face like a slapped arse. I’m not amused by his advances. I’m glad my friends from the old days aren’t around to see me humiliated like this. I’d have been a laughingstock if this had happened in front of Vinyl, Trev and the rest.
I’m taken back to Mr. Dowling’s personal quarters. This time he doesn’t bother with the hearse, and the babies set me down by the top of the stairs. I descend in silence with the clown, Kinslow and Owl Man. As soon as we clear the steps, Mr. Dowling heads for his lab, clicking his fingers for Kinslow to accompany him.
“I really think you should keep an open mind,” Owl Man murmurs as we wait for the clown to return.
“Not a hope,” I snort. “He’s a madman. A killer. Evil to the bone. I have no plans to marry, but if I did I’d like to think I could do better than that.”
“You have killed too,” Owl Man reminds me. “You shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
“I’ve done bad things,” I admit, “but there’s a world of difference between me and that wacko. I’m offended that you think we’re one and the same.”
Owl Man sighs. “That’s not what I said. I was simply pointing out that you have both endured dark times and lashed out in savage ways. Mr. Dowling is a confused, tormented soul. He’s not vile as Dan-Dan was. Lord Wood chose to pursue his twisted path, whereas Mr. Dowling is a victim of circumstance.”
“Bullshit,” I spit. “I don’t care what he’s been through. We all have a choice.”
“Not if we’ve been stripped of our rationality,” Owl Man argues. “When you were a revived, you slaughtered indiscriminately and ate the brains of those you killed. I don’t hold you responsible for your actions, because you were nothing more than an animal acting as your nature dictated.
“Mr. Dowling is in much the same state as you were then. He cannot control his base urges. He interprets the world as a random, wild, vicious place and reacts accordingly. In his disturbed frame of mind, he sees nothing untoward in the way he behaves. In a world of the insane, insanity is the logical response—that’s how he comprehends it.”
I shake my head stubbornly. “Save your breath. You’ll never convince me. He can communicate normally with me when he speaks inside my head, so he must know what’s right and wrong.”
“That is why he’s such a tragic figure,” Owl Man says. “A good man still exists inside him, but that man is trapped. He cannot take control of his body the way you or I can. He’s a victim.”
“That’s a feeble excuse. He could regain control if he wanted, if he forced himself to focus. It’s just easier this way, waltzing through life not giving a damn. He isn’t trapped. He’s hiding.”
Owl Man glares at me. He starts to say something, then stops and grimaces. “I really wish you would trust me, Becky—I mean, B.”
“Why should I?” I counter.
Owl Man considers that, then nods glumly. “Point conceded. Very well. I see that my words are falling on deaf ears–and such pretty new ears they are–so I will leave you in the care of your intended. As I said earlier, I’m sure he’ll win you over in the end. Don’t despise yourself when you renege on your promise to keep him at arm’s length.”
“Where are you off to?” I ask, strangely sorry that he’s leaving. At least I can have a proper conversation with the owl-eyed freak. I don’t like the idea of having only Mr. Dowling and Kinslow to chat with.
“I’m going to find Sakarias and Rage,” Owl Man tells me.
“Watch out for that one,” I snort. “He’ll turn on you eventually, like he did with Dr. Oystein.”
“I know,” Owl Man says. “But sometimes we must go into partnership with those we’d prefer to distance ourselves from. It’s the way of the world. If I was to interact only with the people I truly trust, I’d hardly deal with anyone at all.” He pauses, then says sincerely, “You would be one of the few.”
“You old flatterer,” I grin. “Why don’t you bump off Mr. Dowling and take me with you? I wouldn’t mind bringing you a cup of hot chocolate and your slippers at night.”
Owl Man laughs. “If I thought you were serious…” He smiles warmly. “Good luck, B. Take care. We’ll meet again, I’m sure, and, when we do, perhaps we can form a mutually beneficial partnership of our own.”
On that odd note he takes his leave. I stare after him as he climbs the stairs. I don’t know why, but there’s something about the weirdo that I’m starting to warm to. He’s in league with the bad guys, but I get the sense that in his own way he’s trying to do good. I just don’t see how he thinks he can achieve anything positive by siding with Mr. Dowling and his beastly crew.
Before I can pursue the notion any further, someone taps my shoulder. I look round and find Mr. Dowling standing behind me. He’s holding the wand that he shocked me with earlier.
“Darling,” he whispers, then presses the wand to my forehead and sends me shooting off into a world of electrical sparks and spasms.