I wait for him to continue. I wonder if maybe he’s waiting for the next bit, to increase the impact, so I ask, “Is this the point where you tell me that they live within our hearts or some other touchy-feely fucking nonsense?”
“No. I’m just saying it sucks when people you love die.”
I lay back on the table. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”
After a little bit of silence he asks, “Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”
“A lot of things make me crazy.”
Nik shakes his head. “What they’re doing, sticking people in the wings like that. It’s the people who don’t do any real work who end up hoarding everything. And the people who do the actual labor have to sleep on a cot in a hallway. It’s…I mean, I don’t even know the right word for it.”
“Should be fucking criminal.”
“All I know is that I would never consent to sleeping on a damn cot in a damn hallway,” Nik says. “I mean…these people. Look how much they have.”
“There’s this saying, about people who are born on third base and think they hit a triple,” I tell him. “About the way people inherit wealth and power and think that not only did they earn it, but they deserve it. We deal with a different sort in this place. People who were born on third base and think they built the stadium.”
Nik is about to say something else when Allyn’s voice sprouts from Nik’s watch. “CDC folks still have a lot of work to do but you have the all-clear. Come on down to security.”
He gets up, puts his hand on the knob, and lingers. Then he turns and asks, “Want to come?”
* * *
—
It was nice of Nik to break me out. He even offered to let me join him in the security room, but at this point, I just want to get some rest. I’m so tired, thinking hurts. I retrieve my duffel bag from behind the concierge desk, glad that no one walked away with it. On my way to the cots I see Mena stroll across the lobby. She’s too far away from me to get over to her in time, and she doesn’t see me. I find an empty bed, off in a far corner, with a gulf of empty cots between me and the next person—a flight attendant from Einstein, given the uniform carefully folded and slid underneath.
I drop the bag next to me and stare at the popcorn ceiling for a bit, thinking, Wow, I should really get some sleep. So of course, the more I think that, the harder it is to get to sleep. Doesn’t help that, even though the lights have been dimmed in this section, I prefer a complete and total void. When I close my eyes, enough light leaks through that I may as well have a skylight in my face.
Lights.
The electricity thing is weird.
I sit up, wish I had my whiteboard. Try to remember what it looked like, all the names. Maybe I should have added electricity. I knew there was an issue. According to Chris it’s bigger than I realized. Something is getting fed a ton of power. Something that is being used at random. I would ask Ruby to help me break it down, but I don’t think I’m getting Ruby back. I would raise Chris on my watch, but when I check my comm link, it doesn’t have master access anymore.
Allyn wasn’t fucking around.
But he said to work the case. And that’s not really what I’ve done so far. I’ve been reacting. I did take a little me time to think, but I really need to break this down.
If I can’t sleep, there’s no sense in staying here.
“You know who I should talk to?” I ask, forgetting again that Ruby isn’t hovering at my shoulder, so it just serves to confuse a few people on the cots.
For fun, I complete the thought: “Reg.”
Maybe he has some insight on the power issue.
I pull my boots on and head to the lobby, and from the balcony catch sight of a woman with short, curly gray hair in a hazmat suit talking to Drucker. I can’t hear them but her mask is off, and she’s carrying it under her arm. Doctor Gottlieb? If her mask is off that’s probably a good sign.
I’m about to cross down into the lobby when Reg comes wobbling in from someplace underneath me. Probably had too much to drink.
Then he spins around and he’s holding his abdomen together with his hands, blood and viscera pouring down his front. He falls on his back and even from here I can tell he’s dead before he hits the ground. From somewhere deep within the bowels of the hotel, I hear a sound like a roller coaster makes, that clack-clack-clack when it’s climbing the tracks.
But it’s not a slip.
And this is being made by an animal.
CHAOS THEORY & SPECULATION
My heart slams into my rib cage as I run for the security office. Reg’s body is slumped on itself. Staying in the open to confirm what I know will get me dead too, which is not going to help anybody.
As I reach the door I realize my security privileges have been revoked. I’m ready to throw my foot next to the knob when the door opens a crack. I put my shoulder into it, knocking Nik onto his ass. I slide inside and I’m about to slam the door behind me when Kolten and Warwick muscle in too. I ignore them and head for the storage cabinet.
“What the hell is going on out there?” Allyn asks from the other side of the room.
“Give me back Ruby and my privileges, right now,” I tell him.
“First you tell me…”
I hop onto a desk, reach behind the cabinet, feeling for the hiding spot where I taped the key. “Reg’s insides are currently on his outsides, and it looks like an animal attack, and we had three baby dinosaurs in the basement, but with the way time is acting, I do not feel good about any of this. Before you object, don’t forget I’m a good shot.”
“I want to help,” Kolten says.
“And how are you going to do that?” I ask.
“Well, I am the smartest person in the building,” he says, with a little smirk that is matched by a look of embarrassment that flashes over Warwick’s face.
“Okay, boy genius,” I say, momentarily abandoning the hunt for the key. “I believe we have three dinosaurs on the loose and a deficit of dinosaur-catching equipment. Hit me.”
His eyes go a little wide at suddenly being called on to actually be smart, rather than just say he is. “We can open the doors. Lure them outside.”
“And make them someone else’s problem? That’s the best you got? Do not say another goddamn word to me.”
Kolten looks ready to respond but Warwick grabs his shoulder and quiets him. At least one member of this family has some sense.
My fingertips brush the rough edge of the painter’s tape, and I rip away the key, fumble for the gun case, and get it open. Inside is a 9 mm handgun. Use in case of emergency, but there’s never been an emergency. I hope the gunpowder still sparks. I cleaned and oiled it, what, six months ago? A year? Can’t even remember. As if time means anything at the current moment.
I turn to find Ruby floating in my field of vision like an eager puppy, the plastic googly eyes on its lenses currently walleyed.
“Welcome back, dummy,” I say. “Broadcast an announcement. Everyone in their rooms, barricade doors, wait until we give the all-clear.”
“Only because you asked nicely.”
“What about the people on the cots?” Nik asks.