“I believe they were calling him master of Mary. I am not sure of the refer...” She paused and her body stiffened. “That is not patient zero.”
“How do you know?”
“A connection I should have seen earlier.” Her words were almost lost in Mighty Joe’s next bellow.
“We’re the best, the strongest, the fucking chosen of God,” the ex told the crowd. “It’s why we lived, they died, and now they’re with us.”
He threw an arm out to the caged exes. They returned the salute.
“We’re the rulers of the new world. This whole city is going to be our turf. There’s only one thing keeping the SS from being absolute kings of southern California--that fucking fortress of freaks holding down Hollywood.”
St. George shifted.
“You all know I’ve got business with one of them. A lot of you do, too. I’m gonna carve my name in his chest, gouge out his fucking vampire eyes, and wear his skull as a necklace for my two-year anniversary.” He pounded his chest with a fist like a gallon milk jug. Hundreds of dead hands slapped their ribcages in solidarity.
Stealth’s eyes went from the stage to the exes and back.
“This is it. I want everybody gunned up and good to go. Tonight our army marches north. We’re throwing down and wiping out the last of the old world.”
“What army?” muttered St. George. “Most of these people are kids and grandparents.”
Mighty Joe threw up one last salute and stepped down from the stage. He drifted through the crowd, giving knuckle punches and backslaps as he went.
In the cage, the walking dead performed an odd dance. Their legs shifted like a massive, macabre chorus line. Their arms raised, swung, and shifted. Three hundred moved as one.
“The exes are not copying him,” Stealth said.
“What?”
“They are in perfect sync. All of them. They are not copying him, he is controlling them. He is exerting some level of control over every ex here. At least a two-block radius.”
St. George watched as Mighty Joe turned his head to speak to one of his bodyguards and the cagefull of exes did the same. Three hundred heads shifted to the right.
“That is why they do not need strong cages.” She nodded at the dispersing crowd as she slid the camera back into her utility belt. “Amo de la marioneta.”
“What is that?”
“What they were saying. Puppet master. He is controlling all of them.”
“Damn straight I am,” bellowed the dead giant.
The clatter of rifles filled the air. Stealth and St. George dropped below the ledge.
“Who is that up there, anyway?” he shouted. “The hot bitch is Stealth, I’m thinking. That you, Gorgon? You finally grow some stones and come to give yourself up?”
St. George glanced at her. “When did he spot us?”
Stealth shook her head. “More importantly, how did he hear us?”
“I knew you’d show up sooner or later,” Mighty Joe yelled. “Once I told you two about the Boss of LA, it was only a matter of time.”
St. George furrowed his brow. “What the heck is he talking about?”
“The puppet master. He was speaking to us in the cell.” Stealth looked across the rooftop. The severed skull had stopped moving its jaw and stared back at her. “He sees through all of them.”
“He knew we were coming,” said St. George. “Remember the exes last night?”
She slid across the tar paper, threw her leg into the air, and brought her heel down. The dried skull shattered under her boot. “Suggestions?”
“Get ready to run,” he said.
“And you?”
“I’ll catch up.”
The hooded woman nodded and skittered across the rooftop. Once she was a few yards away she rolled and came up in a crouch with her cloak on. She gave him a nod and vanished behind an air conditioning vent.
St. George counted to five and pushed down against gravity. His boots scraped on the roof ledge as he swung up. Hundreds of searching eyes locked on him. Shoulder slings rustled, gunmetal scraped on holsters, and rounds slid home. He couldn’t guess how many weapons were aimed his way.
“The Mighty Dragon,” said the ex. “Not who I wanted but still cool.”
“Always glad to please a fan,” he called back. “You should reconsider this.”
“Why?”
He waved at the crowd. “These folks don’t want to get hurt.”
“There’ll be plenty of hurt. Not for us, though.”
“You people,” St. George shouted to the crowd. “You know who I am. You know what I can do. You know how foolish attacking me or my friends would be.”
“Oh, yeah,” bellowed the giant. “You’re strong and invulnerable. But your friends aren’t. You’ve got a fearsome rep and that’s it. We’ve got an army and a plan.”
“Is part of your great plan to announce strategy with the other side listening in?”
“I wanted you to hear,” yelled the giant. “I wanted you to know and be scared.”