Devious Origins
Page 43
CHAPTER 36
I let out a relieved gasp. Dee flattened herself to the ground and snap kicked the wicker lounge chair, sending it flying over my head.
“Dee, it's me,” I whispered frantically.
“Barry? How the hell did you get here?”
“I was following you. Like we planned. What are you doing with a gun? I thought you hated those things.”
“Yes, I do,” she admitted, “but I never said I don't know how to use them. I was improvising. I needed some way to knock out the lights.” She then ejected the clip, cleared the firing chamber, and threw the entire lot out the door and into the pool where they sank out of sight. “OK, let's get out of here.”
We retreated back through the closet, down the stairs, and into the tunnel. When we reached the first of the locked doors, Dee stopped.
“Just a second, I want to try something,” she said. She reached into her blouse and pulled out a handful of plastic ID badges. This was when I finally noticed her appearance. She was barefoot but wearing black stockings, a short skirt, and a frilly blouse. She was also wearing makeup with bright red lipstick, and her hair was bleached blond. She noticed me staring and said, “What?” Then she looked at herself and said, “Oh yeah. This. It's a disguise. Part of the plan, remember? I just wish I'd worn better shoes. I had to ditch those useless pumps.”
“Hey, I think I can help with that.” I unslung her backpack and handed it over.
“Barry, you are awesome.” She shed her shirt and blouse, revealing a black body stocking, then began putting on the items from her backpack. Tennis shoes, motorcycle jack, goggles, knee and elbow pads. The last was her new stun gloves. She clicked the power leads into place and sent an arc of test lightning across each fist. “OK, that's better. Now let's check out these rooms.” She handed me two of the ID cards.
“Where did you get these?” I asked.
“I improvised. Don't worry, the previous owners won't be needing them for a while.” She waved her cards at a door. It popped open, and she peeked inside, was evidently unimpressed by what she found, and moved on to the next one.
I waved my cards at a door on the opposite side of the hallway. The scanner buzzed, and the door popped open. I stepped inside and turned on the lights. The room was mostly occupied by the largest bed I had ever seen. Table's and shelves around it were covered in sex toys and bondage implements and things that would probably make the Marquis de Sade blush. It was kinky, but nothing was obviously criminal, so I decided to move on. That was when I heard Dee yell. I couldn't make out her words, but something in her tone sent a chill down my spine, and I ran out into the hallway and toward the next open door.
Dee once told me that this adventure we were on might be my origin story. I laughed it off at the time. I mean, if comic books have taught me anything it's that superheros are born from tragedy. Spiderman loses his uncle. Batman loses his parents. Superman loses his entire world. Origin stories are never happy things. For all it's danger and craziness, my life had gained far more than it had lost, so I just wasn't seeing it. But some part of those words stuck with me, and they came back to mind when I entered that room.
Dee was facing away from me. In front of her was a bank of video monitors, and arrayed around them was shelf upon shelf of video tapes and DVDs, each with a different date written on it. On the desk in front of her was several tape and disk players with cables all running to a desktop computer. Dee was doing something on the computer, and a video was playing on one of the monitors. She didn't notice The Mook stepping out of the shadows behind her, a gun in his hand. I looked at The Mook. He looked at me. I turned to Dee and drew a breath to warn her. And that's when I saw it. That's when her words about origin stories came back to me. Because she wasn't looking at the video monitors. She was looking at the rows of tapes and DVDs.
And she seemed to be looking for a very specific date.