On some level, they know. Even if it was never spoken aloud, they know. They have to sense it somehow, don’t they?
Kendul glanced at the four men they’d called in to help dig Adelina’s body out of the basement. Cleve and Bill were part of Marcton’s team, his inner circle, and they likely knew what they were looking at, but maybe Marcton told them to shut up about it. The other two, though – the looks on their faces indicated to Kendul that they weren’t necessarily firing on all cylinders, so maybe this moment’s profound significance escaped them. Kendul thought that even if they did know – if Marcton and Kendul just came right out and told them – they still wouldn’t really grasp it. They might intellectually know, but anything deeper would be impossible.
Better safe than sorry.
“What’re your names?” Kendul asked, flung his shovel into a corner of the basement. Something nearby groaned, shifted, and everyone looked alarmed for a moment till the noise settled, stopped.
“Harold.”
“Jeremy.”
“Well, Harold and Jeremy,” Kendul continued. “What if I told you that this is what you turn into when you achieve ascendance?”
Harold and Jeremy exchanged disbelieving glances.
“Geeeeeet fucked!” Harold said, with a giant grin on his big dumb face. “Seriously?”
Jeremy, possibly the smarter of the two, just shook his head, said, “No way. Nuh-uh.”
Kendul held their gazes seriously for a moment, then dropped his eyes, laughed once, sharply, said, “Nah, it’s just some kinda robot. You guys’re right.”
Harold and Jeremy looked satisfied with the answer. Easier to accept. Easier to swallow. Less horrifying than knowing that the thing you’ve been taught to aspire to – to treat as a lifelong ambition – ends with transformation into a giant beast that your own kind felt the need to blast literally limb from limb, and bury in the ground.
“Head back to the warehouse, fellas,” Marcton said, nodding at Jeremy and Harold. “We’ll catch up with you soon. And thanks for the help. Much appreciated.”
They nodded, looking both relieved and somewhat confused.
“Oh, and don’t mention the big robot, OK?”
They nodded, but Marcton knew they wouldn’t be able to keep their mouths shut. It wouldn’t matter soon enough, anyway. Either their plan would work, and Adelina would stop Kyllo – and they could then kill and bury her somewhere else (this time hopefully for good) – or their plan wouldn’t work, and Kyllo would carry on into the outside world, destroying the way of life and the anonymity they’d been building for over a century.
Jeremy and Harold said their goodbyes and left the basement. When he heard car doors slam, Marcton said, “Not the brightest bulbs, I know, but they work like fucking dogs.”
“By the way, any word of disappearances tonight from your camp?” Kendul asked.
“Not that I’ve heard, no. I kinda forgot about that, actually, with everything else blowing up. You?”
“No. Weird. Maybe whomever or whatever’s responsible for punishing our transgressions has more on its mind tonight, too.”
Marcton looked worried. “Maybe. It’s still early, though, too.”
Kendul nodded. The moment passed, then:
“So,” Marcton said. “What now?”
The sky was darkening, and snow was still falling – hadn’t stopped in days, and showed no signs of doing so.
“Well,” Kendul said. “Since none of the king’s horses or men are coming, I’d say we have to put her back together again ourselves.”
“I don’t like the Humpty Dumpty analogy,” Cleve said. “Can we use Frankenstein instead?”
“You mean Frankenstein’s monster,” Kendul said.
“I mean fuck you,” Cleve shot back.
“Alright,” Marcton said, “Frankenstein’s monster, it is. So how we do it? I know you said you feel that she’s alive, Kendul – in your bones, or whatever – but she looks real fuckin’ dead to the rest of us.”
Kendul shot him a look, considered further arguments, but then just dropped his eyes. I’m so goddamn tired. Exhausted by all this. Just wiped the fuck out…
“So what do we do now?” Marcton said. “Just tell us. Just tell us.”
Kendul looked back up at Marcton and in that instant – in a brief flash of insight – knew the kid would make a good leader. Probably better than Palermo ever was. He couldn’t put his finger on what made him think it, but it was suddenly there in his mind, like a memory of childhood, brought back to the surface. Never gone, just buried for a while, but always true.
“Alright, look. I don’t know exactly how we do it, but we need something to bring her back to us. I said earlier that our ace in the hole could be the fact that Kyllo killed her father. I think that was wrong: it’s not our ace in the hole; it’s the only fucking card we’ve got.”
“Séance,” Cleve said.
“No,” said Kendul. “Not a fucking séance. Dipshit.”
“Fine, not a fucking séance. Then what?”
“I think we just need to tell her. That her father is dead. That we know who killed him. All of us. And she needs to know we truly need her.”
“Do we need to, like, hold hands and shit?” Bill said.