"Did the best I could." Hannahlee frowned. "Could've done better with the right equipment."
"I doubt it." Gowdy kissed the top of her head. "I doubt anyone could have done any better under any circumstances."
Dunne was surprised that Hannahlee let Gowdy kiss her like that. Then again, he had wondered if the two of them were once an item.
In the Willowtopia online game, Hannahlee had asked Gowdy's spokespeople a question only he would be able to answer: what did she call Gowdy when they were alone? The answer: "Trigger."
The current public display of affection, however, spoke volumes more than any double-entendre pet name.
"So we wait." Gowdy brushed his hand along the back of Hannahlee's neck. "Figure out what to do next."
"What we need to do is figure out how to rescue Quincy," said Dunne.
"Quincy?" said Gowdy.
"Our partner," said Dunne. "He's been helping us look for you. The last I saw him, he was bailing out of our firebombed rent-a-car at Posse Ranch."
"We can't help Quincy yet," said Hannahlee. "We can't leave or move Leif until he's stable."
Dunne sighed. "I hope Quincy lasts that long. Weed must have him by now."
"Weed won't hurt Quincy," said Hannahlee. "Not when he might be able to use him against us."
"I hope you're right," said Dunne. "I wish there was something we could do to help Quincy right now."
"There's something Cyrus can do right now to help us." Hannahlee whipped out a folded piece of paper (from where, Dunne couldn't be sure) and flapped it open in front of Gowdy's face. "He can sign this release form."
Gowdy sidestepped the form without laying a hand on it. "I already told Dunne here. Not a chance."
Hannahlee hopped off the bed and followed him. "It's a one-time waiver of your right of refusal. That's all it is."
"The one smart thing I've done in my career?" Gowdy said it to Dunne. "Maybe the only smart thing? I've never signed a piece of paper like that."
"Don't you want to see them bring back Weeping Willows?" said Hannahlee. "Put you back in the spotlight? Who knows what it could lead to."
Gowdy snatched the paper from her fingers and waved it at Dunne. "That one, last release. I've never signed it. Not for Willows, not for any of my projects."
"Cyrus, please," said Hannahlee.
Gowdy was still talking to Dunne. "Maybe, to get a show made, I had to sign most rights away to a studio...but I never gave up a refusal clause. Because that's all you need in the end." Gowdy shook the paper roughly. "One inch of leverage."
Gowdy swung around and handed the paper to Hannahlee. She glared at him with her fiery emerald eyes...but she took it.
"Without that leverage," said Gowdy, "I would not have had the bargaining power to get the money I've needed. None of the things I've accomplished would have become a reality."
"Like Gaudíland?" Hannahlee's tone was sarcastic.
"Yeah." Gowdy flashed her a smile. "Like Gaudíland."
"Actually," said Hannahlee, "it's Martianland, now. Somebody doused it in bright green paint. And it's not exactly booming, is it, Dunne?"
Dunne just shrugged.
Gowdy walked around the table and chairs, hands clasped behind his back. "That was the first thing I did after Day 8. The fulfillment of a lifelong dream."
"To wipe out your savings?" said Hannahlee.
"To bring the work of Antoni Gaudí to America." Gowdy pushed his ruby-rimmed glasses along the bridge of his nose. "He's been my idol since I was a kid. He was a true creative genius. The greatest, most original architect who ever lived."
Dunne nodded. "The models in Gaudíland were pretty unique."
"The ones that weren't doused in green paint," said Hannahlee.
"Actually, the 'Martianland' theme kind of fits," said Gowdy. "Gaudí's work looked like it came from an alien planet. There was nobody else like him.
"That was how I wanted to be." Gowdy stopped circling the table and met Dunne's gaze. "I patterned my career after him. I wanted my work to be like his—unprecedented, controversial, irreproducible, eternal."
"Well, I think you succeeded," said Dunne, "with Weeping Willows, anyway."
"Exactly." Gowdy's eyes widened. "That was why, when Gaudíland went under, I started this." He flung his arms overhead. "New Justice."
"Another theme park, huh?" Hannahlee rubbed her chin. "How come no one's ever heard of this place?"
Gowdy grinned. "Because it never opened."
"What? Why?" said Dunne.
"It evolved." Gowdy cupped his hands together, then slowly spread them apart as if they encompassed a growing thing. "I stopped thinking 'theme park' and started thinking 'utopia.'"
At that moment, Leif groaned and tossed in the bed, and Hannahlee hurried over to him. "'Utopia?'" she said on the way. "In a replica of a fictional town from a 70s cop drama?"
"What better place?" said Gowdy. "What better town than Justice, where tolerance, compassion, equality, peace, and faith are woven into the fabric of everyday life? Where men and women live in perfect harmony with each other, with God, and with nature? Where a one-of-a-kind social code ensures that all that's finest in humanity will thrive, and all that's darkest will be enlightened and reclaimed?"
Hannahlee sat on the bed beside Leif and checked his temperature. "It's a fictional town, Cyrus," she said.
"So was Atlantis," said Gowdy. "So was Shangri-La."
"Where did you get the people?" said Dunne.
"Actors and fans, mostly," said Gowdy. "Every one of them signed an airtight nondisclosure agreement. Most of them have never left, though."
"So your utopia worked?" said Dunne.
Gowdy slumped onto one of the wooden chairs at the table. Leaning forward, he propped an elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand. "Actually, it was another Day 8. A complete failure."
Hannahlee flicked one of Leif's eyelids open and stared intently at the pupil. Satisfied, she closed the lid and got up from the bed. "What went wrong?"
"We used New Justice as a laboratory," said Gowdy. "We tried lots of variations on the social concepts featured in the show. Something always went wrong, and we had to start over.
"The last thing we tried was the religious angle. We developed a new system based on the show's Everyfaith concept. When that didn't catch fire, we finally gave up."
Dunne walked over to the table and sat down across from Gowdy. "When you say 'we,' who are you talking about?"
Gowdy shrugged. "Me and my partner, Lou Mendez." He grinned at Hannahlee. "Lianna, you remember Lou. He played Jeremiah Weed on the show."
"I remember." Hannahlee said it like the memory wasn't a good one.
"Wait a minute," said Dunne. "You mean to tell me the Jeremiah Weed who's killing everyone up there..." He pointed at the ceiling. "...is the same guy who played Weed on the show? And he's your partner?"
"Was my partner." Gowdy nodded. "I didn't know he was killing people until today. Hell, I didn't even know he was still up there. I didn't know anyone was still up there in New Justice."
"When was the last time you looked at your security cameras?" said Dunne. "Before today when we switched them back on, that is."
Gowdy thought for a moment. "A year ago, I guess. I've been in contact with the outside world via the Internet, but New Justice was supposed to be empty. The last time I checked the cameras was before I went underground."
"Before you died, you mean."
At the sound of Leif's voice, everyone turned to look in his direction. He still lay flat on his back in bed, but his eyes were open, and his left hand was up in the air.
Pointing at Gowdy.
"Either I'm dead, too, or someone's full of shit," said Leif. "Because you're supposed to be a dead man, Cyrus Gowdy."
CHAPTER 49
"What made you think I was dead?" said Gowdy. "What gave you such a crazy idea?"
"The funeral, for one thing." Leif managed a smirk.
Hannahlee hurried ove
r to check his condition. "Try not to move around too much."
"That's what they told the guy in the coffin." Leif chuckled...then grunted in pain.
Gowdy got up from the table and walked over to the bed. "But where did you first hear it? Who told you I was dead?"
"Your partner, of course," said Leif. "Your second in command, Jeremiah Weed. He said you were in a terrible fire, which is why the funeral was closed-casket."
"Lou Mendez?" Gowdy shook his head slowly. "You mean he didn't tell everyone to go home? He didn't announce the experiment was over, and I'd gone underground to work on a new project?"
"Nope," said Leif. "This is the first time I've heard a word of it."
"Why wouldn't Lou say what I told him to?" said Gowdy. "I don't understand."
Dunne left the table and walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Apparently, Weed—I mean Lou—took over when you left. Only I think he gave up on the utopia idea."
"What has he done?" said Gowdy.
Leif hissed between clenched teeth as Hannahlee checked his shoulder wound under the dressing. He relaxed when she replaced the gauze and tape. "Weed told us there was a contest...a reality show kind of thing being shot with hidden cameras. Whoever took over the town—without breaking character—would win the town, plus ten million dollars."
Gowdy looked shaken. He slipped off his ruby-framed glasses and juggled them from hand to hand. "I never told him to do that. He never mentioned it. Why would he do that?"
"So he could turn the place into a living hell and make our lives miserable?" said Leif.
"Sounds like he's been running an experiment of his own," said Hannahlee.
"All I know is, he's been winning the 'game,'" said Leif. "Whoever didn't join him, he's rounded them up. I don't know for sure if he's been killing them, but there are rumors. I do know no one ever sees those people again."
"He's capable of killing," said Dunne. "His people are using live ammunition."
"His own private shooting gallery," said Hannahlee. "Out in the middle of nowhere."
"It just doesn't seem possible." Gowdy stopped juggling the glasses. Dunne could see his fingers tremble as he fiddled with the ruby stems. "This is Lou Mendez we're talking about."
"It's like he became the character he played," said Dunne.
Hannahlee finished checking Leif's second wound and put the dressing back in place. "I guess you did a better job of casting than you thought."
Gowdy rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "All this time," he said. "I didn't even think there was anyone up there, and all this time, it's been going on right over my head."
Leif took a deep breath and tried to sit up...but he got only halfway. Wincing, he settled back down on the bed instead. "So tell me something."
Gowdy slipped the ruby glasses back on his face. "What's that?"
"Why did you leave?" said Leif. "What made you decide to go underground?"
Gowdy sighed and stared into space. "It's ironic."
"Why is that?" said Dunne.
"I came down here because..." Gowdy faltered and shook his head, looking sheepish...sheepish with an edge of anger and despair.
"Why?" said Leif.
"To save the world," said Gowdy. "I came down here to save the world."
CHAPTER 50
Warpath Journal
Dateline: New Justice, New Mexico
At least I know what won't work.
Namely, strangulation and beating. Based on the results so far, neither one will get the job done when it comes to putting Knox Pittenger back in control of Quincy's body.
The tough question is, what will work? What do I have to do to this guy to get to the personality I need?
After all I've done to him, Quincy just lies there in the dirt of Waystation Cemetery, curled up in a fetal position. I give him another kick out of pure frustration, and he barely flinches. Just coughs up a little more blood.
"Come on, Knox." I rest my boot on his hip as I think about what to do next. "We need ya, buddy."
"For the quadrillionth time..." Quincy's voice is weak and ragged from the beating. "...Knox is dead."
"Not according to Knox," I tell him.
At which point, Weed marches over from a pow-wow with his troops. Thanks to the bomb around my waist, he's been playing along with me...but from the look on his hairy kisser, I can tell he's low on patience.
"Getting anywhere?" says Weed.
"Not yet." I roll Quincy back and forth with my boot on his hip. "But we're close."
Weed blows out his breath. "How 'bout we go with Plan A instead? Forget about his inner prick and just use him as a hostage to flush out Gowdy?"
Frankly, I know he's right, we're just wasting time here...but for some reason, I can't let go. The longer it takes, the more determined I get to bring out Quincy's hidden self. To set free the personality locked away deep inside, trapped forever in the shadows of a lie.
To lead it into the light.
"Let's try Plan C instead." I hoist my boot off Quincy's hip and walk around in front of him. "Hey, Quince. Remember this?" Reaching into a side pocket of my fatigue jacket, I pull out the remote control for the bomb.
Quincy looks up for a second, then lets his head fall back to the dirt. "Phallic symbol, phallic symbol, blah blah blah."
I turn and walk between headstones across the cemetery ground. "They're right underneath us. Gowdy and your friends. This is where the secret tunnel ends up."
"'Secret tunnel,' huh? Now you're talking anal." Quincy manages a rattling laugh between his bruised lips.
Let him have his moment. "Ever hear of dynamite fishing?" I stop and look back with a grin. "Instead of getting one fish with one line, you toss a stick of dynamite in the lake, and boom." I throw my arms in the air. "You get all the fish at once. All the dead fish."
Quincy doesn't answer. I think he sees where I'm going with this.
"Knox could help bring up the one fish we need— Gowdy." I wave the remote control back and forth over my head. "Without Knox, we go dynamite fishing."
I turn and walk a little further before stopping again. "Right about here, I'd say." I raise my voice so Quincy can hear me. "Dead center of the cave, more or less." With one hand, I lift my yellow smiley-face t-shirt to give him a look at the bomb. "This oughtta bring the ceiling down on everyone. Gowdy and your friends."
I let it soak in for a minute...but nothing happens. Quincy stays curled up in the dirt and doesn't say a word. Either he's calling my bluff or he just doesn't give a shit at this point.
So I push it a little further. "Tough break about your buddies, but at least they'll die heroes. They'll have given their lives to save America, right?"
Quincy just stares at me for a while. Even from a distance, I can see his eyes are frustratingly normal...not rolled up to the whites Knox-style.
"Repeat after me." I put my thumb on the remote's big red button. "I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country!"
Weed isn't in on my game, and I can tell he's worried. "Hey!" He starts running toward me. "Hold on a minute there!"
I don't set him straight. His panic adds fuel to the fire I'm trying to light under Quincy. "Hey now, hero! See you on the other side!"
Weed keeps coming. Quincy keeps watching.
"Zastee!" I scream it to the heavens with every fiber of my being. "Death is approaching on his coal-black charger! Zastee!"
Then, finally, Quincy closes his eyes and opens his bloody mouth.
"War..." he says. "War Willow..."
I lower the remote control and take a step toward him. "Yes? Knox, is that you?"
When he opens his eyes, I see who it is.
"War Willow wouldn't do that," says Quincy. "Fipso facto...you're not War Willow."
Knox is not in the house.
And suddenly, neither am I.
The remote falls from my hand to the dirt. I stagger one more step, and then I freeze.
And everything fades to black
.
CHAPTER 51
"This is Godseye." Gowdy stood at the base of the silver tower in the heart of the chamber and knocked on a metal strut. "This is the reason I came down here a year ago."
Dunne stood beside him, gazing up at the gleaming fusion of lenses, lights, cables, speakers, and antennae. "You said you wanted to save the world. Is this supposed to be part of the plan?"
Gowdy sighed. He looked past Dunne toward the bed, where Hannahlee was tending Leif. "How do you stop the suffering? That's what I wanted to know."
Dunne nodded. "Good question."
"This led to another question," said Gowdy. "How do you change the world?"
"Tough question," said Dunne.
"So I asked myself," said Gowdy, "what's been the most influential vehicle in human history for achieving sweeping, lasting change? In terms of shaping Western thought and framing geopolitical evolution, I'd have to say the Bible, wouldn't you?"
"Sure," said Dunne.
"We need a new Bible," said Gowdy. "That's what I decided. A brand new Bible."
"Okay," said Dunne.
"Not a replacement. Not a book." said Gowdy. "An equivalent. A transformational narrative presented in the idiom of the day...which, in our day, would be bleeding edge multimedia technologies."
"Right." Dunne nodded, though he couldn't quite see where Gowdy's reasoning was headed.
"The more I thought about it," said Gowdy, "the more I realized how powerful something like that could be.
"Look what Christianity accomplished with a simple book. Now imagine what we could do with digital graphics, animation, sound, and projection. With immersive virtual reality simulators and responsive onboard artificial intelligence constructs.
"If words on a printed page had such an impact, wouldn't it be a million times more effective if we could embed viewers in an organic, multisensory experience? A piece of extraordinary transformational art rendered in the palette of the times?"
"Maybe," said Dunne.
Day 9 Page 23