Day 9

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Just when it seemed that the gambit had failed, a Leif Willow avatar stepped forward. "I'm Cyrus Gowdy," he said. "Let Kitty go."

  "See?" said Baine. "I toldja so."

  Before Baine's avatar could lower the knife, though, another avatar—Kenya Willow this time—stepped forward alongside the first.

  "I'm Cyrus Gowdy," said the Kenya avatar. "Let her go."

  And another avatar stepped up beside that one.

  "Oh boy." Quincy squirmed and giggled. "I see where this is going."

  "I'm Cyrus Gowdy," said the third avatar...and the fourth, and the fifth, and the twentieth.

  Groups of avatars stepped forward together, five and ten at a time, all saying the same thing in unison. "I'm Cyrus Gowdy."

  Quincy's giggles turned into belly laughs. "Oh God, this is good." He stomped his feet and smacked the back of Todd's seat. "Shades of Spartacus!"

  Soon, every avatar in Justice Commons was on its feet, marching toward Hiss, repeating the mantra. "I'm Cyrus Gowdy."

  Quincy leaned forward and whispered in Todd's ear. "I'm Cyrus Gowdy, too!"

  Todd swatted him away and typed on the keyboard. "Any other ideas, Baine?"

  "How 'bout you find the one guy who doesn't say he's Cyrus Gowdy?" said Baine.

  "Good idea," said Todd, "but not practical."

  "If Gowdy's playing," said Dunne, "where else in the game would he be?"

  "Better yet, where's the last place we'd look for him?" said Hannahlee.

  "Scratchtown?" said Quincy. "Waystation Cemetery?"

  "What place wouldn't he like?" said Hannahlee. "He dreamed up all of it."

  "Not all of it," said Todd. "There are places based on alternate sources. Not part of the official Willows canon from the TV show, but still valid."

  "'Sources?'" said Dunne. "What 'sources?'"

  "So which one would Gowdy like the least?" said Hannahlee.

  Todd thought, then typed. "I think I can take a guess."

  The scene on the screen changed. The grassy, sunny park became a thick forest pelted by rain.

  As Dunne watched, the view rotated from left to right, revealing more trunks and branches. Rainwater ran from the leaves of oak, sassafras, sycamore, and poplar. A sodden squirrel leaped between limbs, then spiraled down a stout trunk with tail rippling.

  When the shot turned further, something new appeared—a log cabin, sliding in from the edge of the screen. Light flickered in the windows, smoke curled from the chimney. Red flowers bloomed in window boxes, and a plot along one side burst with the green tangle of a vegetable garden.

  A wind chime hung from a corner of the front porch roof. The chime was made from lengths of metal tubing and star-shaped metal pieces, strung at varying heights from a motorcycle helmet.

  As the image of the chime sank in, Dunne realized where his avatar had gone. He suddenly knew what part of the world of Weeping Willows he was looking at on the screen.

  The metal tubing on the wind chime had been cut from gun barrels and nunchuks. The star-shaped pieces were deadly shuriken throwing stars. The motorcycle helmet was War Willow's.

  Dunne knew all about the wind chime, because he'd made it up. He'd written about it in one of his Willows tie-in novels, War No More.

  So he himself was one of the "alternate sources" of non-canon locations in Willowtopia.

  "Does this look familiar to anyone?" Todd stared directly at Dunne. "Can anyone tell me the name of this place?"

  "Willow Grove, Tennessee," said Dunne. "Where War Willow and his common law wife conceived Cyrus Gowdy."

  CHAPTER 17

  "War had a wife and conceived Cyrus?" said Hannahlee. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

  Quincy clapped his hands and laughed. "It's from a novel! The only one of Dunne Sullivan's books I actually liked."

  "War No More." Todd nodded. "In which War Willow loses his memory—and courage—and finds love with a girl in the back-country mountains of Tennessee."

  "He beats his weapons into wind chimes," said Quincy. "When mountain-men drug lords attack, War doesn't fight back. He doesn't remember what courage is."

  "And the drug lords fatally injure War's pregnant common law wife, Callie," said Todd. "They torture War, which restores his memory and courage, and he takes them down."

  "Meanwhile, someone rescues Callie's baby. Years later, War must rescue Cy, the little paper boy back home in Justice." Quincy sniffled and wiped his eyes. "He will never know that the boy is his son."

  "His son, who was adopted by a local family," said Todd. "The Gowdys."

  Quincy reverted to his big, basso singing voice for the next pronouncement. "They named the child...Cyrus."

  Dunne shrugged and cleared his throat. He felt like he was under a microscope.

  Of all his novels, why did War No More have to come up? Why did they have to talk about the one that hit too close to home? The one he'd written to deal with what had happened?

  The one that would tell Hannahlee everything she needed to know to figure out the secrets of his dark past.

  At least she wasn't talking about it yet. "Why would Gowdy like this place the least?"

  "He hated the book," said Baine. "He hated that kid having his name."

  "It was a tribute," said Dunne.

  "And he hated War letting that woman be killed," said Baine. "He said no Willow would ever do that."

  "He had amnesia," said Dunne.

  "I'm just saying," said Baine. "That's what he told me."

  "Don't take it personally." Todd started typing again. "It's all subjective anyway."

  Dunne slumped in his seat. On one hand, he was angry and worried that his secrets had been spilled. On the other hand, hearing that Cyrus Gowdy hated his book was like hearing that God hated it. Cyrus was the God of Weeping Willows.

  "Well?" said Todd. "Shall we see who's here?"

  As he typed, his avatar walked toward the cabin. Hannahlee's, Dunne's, and Baine's avatars followed.

  "Stay clear of the door and windows," said Baine. "In case someone starts shooting."

  Todd's avatar knocked on the door. "Hello? Anyone home?"

  There was no answer from inside the cabin. No sound at all.

  Todd knocked again, harder. "Hello? Are you in there, Cyrus?"

  "Who wants to know?"

  The voice came from behind them. Todd clattered on the keyboard, and the view rotated in that direction.

  A War Willow avatar stared back at them. So did a Free avatar, and a Buzz and a Kitty and a Leif.

  There were ten in all, one of each of the Willow brothers and sisters—even Buddhist monk Zen, the "lost Willow," who was often mentioned but never seen in the TV show. They stood in fighting stances, armed and grim and artful, like a carefully posed team shot from a promotional poster.

  "Am I speaking to Mr. Gowdy?" said Todd.

  "Not exactly," said the Kenya avatar.

  Todd made his avatar look at Kenya. "What do you mean, 'not exactly?'"

  "We have access to Mr. Gowdy," said the Free avatar.

  "We represent his interests," said Leif.

  Todd frowned. "What? Like agents?"

  "More like deputies," said Buzz. "Think of us as deputies."

  "Okay, wait a minute. We need to verify this." Todd turned to Hannahlee. "Ask a question only Gowdy can answer."

  Hannahlee thought for a moment. "This is Lianna Caprice. I go by Hannahlee Saylor now. Can you tell me what I used to call Cyrus when we were alone?"

  The Willow avatars froze for a moment. Then, they all said the same thing at the same time. "'Trigger.'"

  Dunne, Quincy, and Todd all shot quizzical looks at Hannahlee, but her eyes remained fixed on the screen. "Yes," she said. "That sounds about right."

  "This is Todd Myriada, President and CEO of Sensophile." Todd typed, and his avatar gestured at Baine's and Hannahlee's in turn. "I have Baine Sherwood and Lianna Caprice with me. Also Dunne Sullivan."

  The ten deputies stared at them silently.
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  "Please ask Cyrus when I can meet with him personally," said Hannahlee. "It's a matter of great importance."

  "What matter?" said Deputy Kenya.

  "If Cyrus signs a release, he'll clear the way for a new big-screen Weeping Willows movie," said Hannahlee. "He has the power to bring back Willows with the stroke of a pen."

  The same brief pause preceded every response by the deputies...a lag time, apparently, as they "accessed" Cyrus. "Bring it back? It never left."

  "Well, I'd still like to meet with him," said Hannahlee. "It would be a personal favor to me."

  Pause. "Some other time," said Deputy Holly. "Cyrus is busy right now with an important project."

  "What project?" said Hannahlee. "He's been off the radar for years. What's he been doing all this time?"

  Pause. "Cyrus wants to know what you've been doing," said Deputy War.

  "He says you've been off the radar for twenty years," said Deputy Kenya.

  This time, it was Hannahlee's turn to pause. "I'll tell him if he'll meet with me."

  Pause. "For you, anything," said Deputy Bella. "But not right now."

  "He'll be in touch," said Deputy Zen. "Maybe next year. He promises."

  "Great hearing from you, Lianna," said Deputy Buzz. "See you later."

  With that, the ten avatar deputies started to fade. The woods behind them appeared through their transparent silhouettes.

  "No, wait!" Hannahlee got up from her seat and took a step toward the screen. "This project he's working on. Is it 'Godseye?'"

  Pause. The deputies stopped fading. The process reversed, and their bodies resolidified.

  "Godseye is a rumor," said Deputy War.

  Suddenly, Quincy interrupted—lunging over Todd's shoulder so his voice would reach the keyboard's onboard mic. "It's the lost twenty-first episode of Willows, isn't it? He's reconstructing it, isn't he? He wants to wrap up the series according to his personal vision!"

  "Who's talking?" said Deputy Bella.

  "Enrique Bocagrande," said Quincy. "Cyrus asked for my advice on digital post-production! Why else would he need it, if he wasn't working on a film?"

  Pause. "Cyrus is not working on the lost episode of Willows," said Deputy Free.

  Pause. "Todd didn't mention Enrique was with you. Who else is in the room, Hannahlee?" Deputy Hiss looked out from the screen, as if his digitized eyes could see into the theater.

  Hannahlee cast her fiery green gaze upon Quincy and shook her head. "That wasn't Enrique."

  Pause. "We're done here," said Deputy Buzz. "Goodbye, Lianna."

  The deputies started to fade out again. Hannahlee took another step toward the screen. "Wait! Tell him his life's in danger!"

  For a moment, it seemed that she'd lost them. The deputies completely disappeared from Mirror Grove.

  Then, one of them flickered back into view. It was Zen, the Buddhist monk. "Danger?"

  "Someone has threatened to kill all the Willows and their 'father,'" said Hannahlee. "Father Law—Stewart Bank—is already dead, so that leaves Cyrus as the father of all Willows."

  "Yes," said Zen. "It's a good thing he's off the radar, isn't it?"

  Hannahlee sighed. "Scott Savage and Luanne Diego have already been murdered."

  "And you don't know who the killer is?" said Deputy Zen.

  "No," said Hannahlee. "We don't."

  "Lianna," said Deputy Zen. "Is the killer with you right now?"

  "No," said Hannahlee.

  "He's using you to try to find Cyrus, isn't he?" said Zen.

  "Absolutely not," said Hannahlee.

  "You're absolutely wrong." The Zen avatar walked over and put his arm around the shoulders of Baine's Hiss Avatar. "Isn't she, chum?"

  Baine made a muffled noise. His avatar remained perfectly motionless onscreen.

  "I can say for a fact that the killer is with you right now," said Zen. "More specifically, his avatar is with you in the game. His real self, the one that does all the killing, is elsewhere."

  Dunne's wide eyes were glued to the screen. The temperature in the theater seemed to drop forty degrees as he realized what was happening.

  "Can you guess where he is?" said Zen.

  Hannahlee looked back. Her emerald gaze met Dunne's, then flashed back to the screen.

  "With Baine Sherwood," she said.

  Zen laughed. "Hold on a minute," he said. "What's that, Baine?" He leaned closer to Baine's avatar, as if trying to hear something he couldn't make out. "Right, right. I'll tell her."

  The Zen avatar straightened and turned to Hannahlee's Kitty avatar. "Baine said to tell you he's going to die unless you tell me where to find Cyrus."

  Dunne froze in his seat. He wanted to leave the room.

  Hannahlee was talking to the killer. His voice was electronically synthesized, but the words were all his.

  And what he said he was going to do was horrifying.

  "Did I mention?" said Zen. "You have less than five minutes?"

  Hannahlee looked at Todd, but he was too busy typing like a maniac to look up from his keyboard. She looked at Dunne, and he met her gaze...but his expression was blank. He had nothing to offer.

  So she turned to face the big screen. Took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  Took a step forward.

  "We don't know where Cyrus is," she said. "He wouldn't even talk to us directly."

  Zen gave Hiss a squeeze and tousled his hair. "Don't be fooled," he said. "I might have my arm around Baine in Willowtopia, but in the real world, I have a knife at his throat."

  "Which is why you know I'm telling the truth," said Hannahlee. "If I knew where Cyrus was, I'd tell you. Then, I'd tell Cyrus to get away before you got to him."

  "Mmm," said Zen. "Maybe." He brushed the lapels of Hiss's black leather jacket and adjusted the bill of his yin-yang ball cap. "Or maybe you'd never endanger Cyrus under any circumstances. Even if you thought he could probably get away in time."

  "I swear to God I'm not lying to you," said Hannahlee. "I don't know where Cyrus is. In fact, I'm back to square one. Willowtopia was my last good lead."

  Zen stepped away from Hiss. "Aren't you wondering?"

  "About what?" said Hannahlee.

  "When it'll be your turn." Zen folded his hands behind his back. "Will you be next, or will you be last?"

  "I don't much care," said Hannahlee. "You can have me now, if you'll let Baine go."

  "Self-sacrifice." Zen's voice sounded almost admiring. "Do you care that much about Baine?"

  "I care that little about me," said Hannahlee. "My life is unending misery. You'd be doing me a favor if you ended it."

  "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Poison Oak?" said Zen. "Spare you out of pity? Well, that won't happen. Not even if you freed the real Willows right now."

  "Poison Oak?" said Hannahlee.

  "You and your family won't keep us down!" said Zen. "And you won't destroy America, either. My warpath ends in your death. Zastee!"

  As the killer's words rang through the theater, Dunne frowned. A realization hit him; he had to talk to Hannahlee.

  Dunne hesitated to leave his seat, as if the killer could somehow see him. Then, pushing back that irrational fear, he got up and hurried over to Hannahlee.

  He touched her on the shoulder, then whispered in her ear. "He's talking like War. He's on a warpath. 'Zastee' was War's battle-cry. It's Apache for 'Kill.'"

  Hannahlee nodded. "What's your name?" she said to the screen.

  "'Angel of Death' to you," said Zen.

  "Is this my brother, Warren?" said Hannahlee. "Is this War Willow?"

  For a long moment, the killer was silent. His avatar was motionless onscreen.

  Then, the Zen avatar shook a fist at Kitty. "You already know," he said. "I'm the one Willow you couldn't capture."

  "Listen, War," said Hannahlee. "I'm not a Poison Oak. This is the real Kitty speaking."

  "You're too late," said War.

  "I'm worried about you," said Hannahle
e. "I wish you wouldn't do this."

  "I've already done it," said War. "Baine's dead."

  It was Hannahlee's turn to fall silent. Looking back, Dunne saw that Todd had stopped typing, and Quincy had jammed the heels of his hands over his eyes.

  "His blood is everywhere," said War. "It's terrible."

  Looking at the screen, Dunne saw that Baine's avatar was standing stiffly in place. He realized he hadn't seen that avatar move in several minutes.

  "I'll do the same to you," said War. "You and all your Poison Oak family."

  "Please stop this," said Hannahlee.

  "I'm coming for you, bitch," said War. "And no one can stop me."

  "Wait," said Hannahlee. "How can you be sure I'm not the real Kitty? Totally sure?"

  "Zastee!" said War. His avatar leaped straight upward, shooting into the sky like a rocket, and was gone.

  CHAPTER 18

  Warpath Journal

  Dateline: Pensacola, Florida

  I see my reflection in the pool of blood on the table in the Hiss Willow imposter's kitchen. I stare so long that the image gets fuzzy, like snow on a TV screen when the cable goes down...only scarlet.

  A clear droplet lands in the blood with a tiny splash, a droplet fallen like a star from above. A tear from my eye.

  This one should have been easier than the first two. He was a wicked Poison Oak, deserving no mercy. Not only that, but his face was that of the least trustworthy Willow—Hiss the turncoat.

  So why is this killing affecting me?

  I back into a corner of the room and slide down to my haunches. Another tear burns its way out of my eye and runs over my hand as I chew my nails.

  Is it because of my target's condition? Because I found him in a wheelchair, paralyzed from the waist down?

  Not the likeliest evil terrorist master of disguise, was he? Couldn't have done much damage to America from that chair, could he? Is that what's bothering me? Or is it because of what the Kitty imposter said in the game? About being sure. Totally sure.

  Or is it both?

  I close my eyes to shut out the scene and regain my bearings. Instead, the gruesome vision swirls upon me once more, the one that haunted me before I killed the Bella imposter at the movie studio.