When Kenny walked into the Tiger Claw office, Eddie was there, smiling, and he laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his editor’s chair.
“I’m thinking we go out in two waves,” he announced, without saying hello as Kenny entered. “First, the splash. Front-page picture of the pentagram. Really blow it up big. All the streaky blood stuff right there, pow!” Eddie rocked forward in his chair and let his feet hit the ground. “Then … a quote from Candace, talking on background. ‘A student with firsthand knowledge also described seeing other satanic imagery on school grounds, associated with a group of students calling themselves the Vindicators.’”
“Eddie, don’t do this.”
“Shh, listen, it gets better.” Eddie wiggled his fingers like a conjurer. “‘For those who remember, all of this is eerily familiar to that infamous group of student deviants.…’ Segue to the Friends of the Crypt.”
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Sure I do! So then, the second wave. The reveal! The DNA, you holding the Vindicators crest, Mr. B.’s car…”
Kenny felt ill. Had Eddie connected that already?
“That’s right! It had to be you guys. Like the Friends of the Crypt blew up that car. I don’t even have to prove it. Just the connection is riveting! Let the police sort it out.”
“Eddie, I’m here to give you a chance. I know this all looks bad. But these are good people. They didn’t do what you’re saying. Not like you’re making it seem.”
“I’ll make you a deal. Give me a blood sample for a DNA test. If it doesn’t match, I’ll kill the story.”
“Eddie, please. No story is worth destroying these lives.”
“You guys did this. Don’t blame me.”
Kenny felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He glanced at it.
Put on your glasses.
He ignored it.
“What about if it was just me?” Kenny said.
“Huh?”
“I know you hate me. For Candace. For Columbia. Take me down. Leave the Vindicators out of it.”
Eddie leaned back in his chair again and studied Kenny’s face with mild contempt. Eddie was loving every minute of this.
“Tempting. Very tempting. But the story doesn’t sing without your little club.”
Kenny felt his fists ball up. He reached into his shirt pocket and slipped on his Aziteks.
He startled.
The room was the same in front of him, except that Eddie’s eyes were blacked out, like two empty sockets.
“Eddie, please. I don’t know what’s going to happen if you do this.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. I honestly don’t know.”
“My job is to tell the truth.” Eddie smiled.
“And if it destroys me and my friends?”
“Gravy.”
Kenny nodded.
Behind Eddie, in the Aziteks, footsteps appeared on the dingy old carpet. They were bloody hoofprints, each composed of two long claws and a point; two on the right, two on the left, stamping out a burgundy path along the carpet, then out the door.
Follow the red-bricked road, Kenny thought grimly.
“Last chance, Eddie. Please.”
“Did you know the word vindicator appears in the Bible? I googled it. It means ‘God.’ Is that what you guys think of yourselves? You’re gods? Care to comment on the record?”
“It’s from X-Men, asshole.”
“Kenny Baker swearing? See, we all have hidden layers!”
Truer than you know, Kenny thought. “I tried. Remember that.”
Eddie gave him a sarcastic “Oooh, I’m scared” face.
Kenny nodded and followed the hoofprints out the door.