by Bryan Smith
“I may have an idea.”
Casey cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh, really? Because I’ve got a confession to make. I don’t have the first fucking clue what to do.”
“Lana has a friend who might be able to help. A shady big money guy. He’s gotten us out of some of our stickier situations.”
“And why would he help me?”
Echo shrugged. “I’m not saying he will. I’m saying maybe he will. It’ll depend on the impression you make on Lana. You’ve got to try really hard to make her like you. And then there’s the other reason you can’t stick around here.”
“That being?”
Echo sniffed. “Because, Casey,” she said, enunciating the words with deliberation, as if addressing a “slow” person. “Before long the guy who sent these dead motherfuckers will start to wonder why they’re not reporting back to him. He might then send more thugs around to see what’s up. You probably won’t want to be around when that happens.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’s a good point.”
Echo shook her head. “It’s a wonder you managed to survive a year without me around.”
Casey stood up. “Fine. Let’s go meet your friends. But it’s on you if they kill me.”
Echo smiled. “But maybe that’s been the real plan all along.”
Casey eyed her carefully a moment before giving his head a wry shake. “You’re evil.”
Echo just laughed.
After gathering all the available weaponry, they walked out of Casey’s house.
Neither of them would ever return.
Chapter Fifteen
Two days after the shootout on 2nd Avenue
A time of hard reckoning was nearly at hand. John Wayne de Rais believed this with a conviction that easily eclipsed anything in his conman past. The Order of Wandering Souls had started as yet another attempt to part fools from their money, but it had become so much more than that.
There was a certain kind of fragile, possibly damaged soul that was eager to believe in an imminent collapse of the social order. These people saw the modern world as corrupt to the core, as a festering cesspool tainted by excessive greed and self-interest. It was a viewpoint John was able to exploit with instinctive ease and skill. He told his new audience the things he knew they wanted to hear, affirmations of all their darkest fears. He talked to them about how there was a handful of mysterious and very powerful men who controlled the bulk of the global economy and pulled the strings of political leaders behind the scenes. It was essentially a repackaging of the Illuminati myth, though he never used that term out of concern it would invoke kneejerk skepticism. But his followers found it easy to believe in a shadowy collective that controlled world affairs and relentlessly trampled on the downtrodden. After a while, John began to infuse his sermons with warnings of a coming revolution, a time when the downtrodden would rise up and wrest control of the world out of the hands of the puppeteers. The popularity of the Order began to surge, at least in part because so many of those damaged souls he’d courted also wanted to believe in revolution.
At some indefinable point along the way, John began to believe in it too. In part it was because he had spent so much of his life believing in nothing. And he had reached an age where it felt important to replace the soulless emptiness inside him with something that had real meaning. He began to wonder whether he might be a spiritual vessel of some sort, the means by which God would bring about the great cleansing that would allow the world to start afresh. Maybe that had been the real purpose behind his existence all along and he was just now awakening to it.
The shootout downtown had changed things yet again. It was impossible not to see the incident as a watershed event in the history of the Order. There were more eyes on them than ever now, both in the media and in law enforcement. The national press had even taken note of them for the first time, including reports on all the major cable news outlets. At any other point in his life, John would have shied away from such scrutiny. There were too many skeletons in his closet waiting to be unearthed. With this kind of attention, it was inevitable he would be linked to some of his previous scams. Even now his old instincts were telling him it was time to ratchet things down until the heat wore off.
But it was too late for that now.
This was his moment, his time to make his mark on the world. If things unfolded the way he hoped, he would likely be dead or in jail very soon, but it didn’t matter because either way his legacy would be secured. The world would remember John Wayne de Rais and his deeds for generations to come.
And maybe, just maybe, the events he was about to set in motion would provide the spark for a real revolution.
He was backstage at the compound’s community hall. This was where the faithful gathered every week to hear him speak about the coming great change that would signal the end of a dying world order. He could hear their murmuring voices on the other side of the curtain. There was a palpable extra level of excitement in the air. Though most of them were not allowed access to media, all were aware of the incident that had occurred. Many of them had been interviewed by the police in the intervening days. As a result, the rumor mill was working overtime. There was talk that a raid on the property was imminent. John Wayne had no idea whether this was true, though he suspected it was inevitable.
All the more reason to set the wheels in motion sooner rather than later.
He reviewed his handwritten notes a final time before folding the two sheets of lined notebook paper and shoving them into a hip pocket of his jeans. He glanced down at his hands, which were shaking ever so slightly. There was nothing he could do about this, just as there was little he could do about the throbbing ache behind his eyes. He withdrew a vial of pills from an inner pocket of his blazer, the shaking in his hands increasing as he worked to unscrew the cap. When he did finally get it open, he immediately popped three pills into his mouth and grimaced as he dry-swallowed them.
He breathed a tired sigh.
The pills would help a little—but not nearly enough, nor for long enough.
Before stepping out onto the stage, he peered through the part between the curtains at his audience. There wasn’t a single unoccupied seat in the house. Many more Order members were standing against the back wall.
John couldn’t help smiling.
Standing room only, literally.
There were a few notable absences that couldn’t be helped, but nearly the entire Order membership was under this roof this morning. The speech he was about to deliver would be the most important he’d given since founding the Order. Everything was riding on his ability to fire up the faithful in just the right way. And John Wayne had total faith in his ability to do just that.
He cleared his throat, moved through the part between the curtains, and strode confidently out to the podium at the front of the stage to thunderous applause.
Keely was not allowed to attend John Wayne’s momentous speech to the faithful. Though this was disappointing, it did not come as a surprise. She had been kept out of sight since shortly after returning from that debacle on 2nd Avenue. A scheme to cover up her identity as the target of the kidnapping attempt had been set in motion almost immediately after Casey was forced to flee the scene. She had been spirited away by Order security before the police could arrive and clamp things down. Another young blonde girl who had been part of the recruiting party that day wound up acting as her stand-in. The scheme worked thanks to the chaos surrounding the event.
She assumed this was a contingency plan that had been in place since her ascension into John Wayne’s inner circle. But it was more than just that. They didn’t want the police to track Casey down for inscrutable reasons. He knew things that could hurt the Order, supposedly. Also, John had a real thing for her. All she had to do was look at him the right way and he would get hard. So a desire to shield the hot young piece of ass he’d taken as a lover was maybe part of it too. Yet another factor was her brother’s original bungled attempt to snatch her away from
the Order’s clutches.
Thinking about that stoked her anger anew. Butting in where he wasn’t wanted was just like Casey. He had been pulling this concerned big brother routine forever even though she was actually the older sibling. It had gotten old a long time ago and it was high time he left her alone to make her own decisions about her life. If anything good had come out of the events of the other day, it was the shedding of the last vestiges of his former psychological hold on her. She had a new family now and a new purpose in life—to serve John Wayne and the Order.
Her comfortable new living space was more proof that her recent choices had been the right ones. There had been some rough times and many uncertain moments, but she knew now she was right where she belonged. John Wayne had installed her in a second-floor room of the big house. A large window in a corner of the room overlooked the cabins where the Order’s lower level initiates lived—where she had lived until just a few days. She stood at the window now, staring out at the warm yellow light visible through the windows of the gathering hall.
Most of John Wayne’s congregation was inside that building, listening raptly as the great man delivered another of his stirring, inspiring speeches. Keely wished she could be there with them. She imagined John’s booming voice resonating powerfully inside the building. Though he was far older than she was, that voice always stirred something primal and libidinous within her. But that wasn’t the only reason she wished she could be there this morning. John had been telling her of a big change on the horizon. The Order was at the forefront of a coming revolution that would shake the world to its foundations. To an outsider this would undoubtedly sound like a lot of overblown bullshit, just so much blustery rhetoric to pump up the faithful. But to the true believers it was akin to the holy word of God, wisdom handed down from on high.
She turned away from the window when she heard the door to her room open, grimacing when she saw Susan Wagner enter the room and shut the door behind her.
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Susan smiled. “I don’t think so.”
Her former tormentor was wearing black lace panties and nothing else. For a woman somewhere in her mid-forties, she was remarkably well-maintained, with pert breasts and a trim, toned figure that would be the envy of many women half her age. She normally kept her long hair in a ponytail, but tonight she had let the honey blonde locks down. Clutched loosely in her right hand was a thin rattan cane. In her other hand was a sleek cell phone.
Keely glanced at both items and shook her head. “Have you lost your mind? You know you’re supposed to stay away from me.” She smirked. “If you get out of here before I count to five, maybe I won’t tell John Wayne about this.”
Susan laughed and came farther into the room, swishing the cane back and forth as she moved. “Stupid girl. I’m here on John’s orders.”
Keely frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
Susan shrugged. “Boyd is standing guard in the hallway. Call him in if you want. He’ll confirm what I’ve told you.”
“Boyd!”
Susan laughed at Keely’s abruptly shouted call to the thuggish security man, but she said nothing further for the moment.
The door to the room opened again and Boyd poked his blond head in. “Yes, Miss Miller?”
Keely smiled as sweetly as possible. “Could you pretty please escort this psycho dyke from my room? She’s annoying me.”
Boyd grimaced. “Afraid I can’t do that. Miss Wagner is here on assignment.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
Another pained look crossed Boyd’s rugged features. “That’s not for me to say. I’m sorry, Miss Miller.”
He then ducked back out of the room and shut the door again.
Susan laughed as she came yet another step closer. This time she snapped the cane against the floor, making Keely jump. “Now then…where were we?”
Keely’s heart raced. Her mouth felt dry and she struggled to swallow as her gaze locked for a moment on the cane. The memory of being whipped was still so fresh in her mind. This wasn’t fair. She had been so sure this brand of humiliation was behind her.
“Please…” She struggled to keep a quaver out of her voice. Keely had her back to the wall as Susan continued to approach. Further retreat wasn’t an option. She could slide sideways to the corner, but that would accomplish nothing other than emphasizing her weakness and she didn’t want that. “What’s going on here? I don’t understand. I thought—”
“You thought you were his special girl.” Susan smiled in an irritatingly knowing way. She was only a few feet away now, nearly within touching distance. “In reality, you’re just another in a long line of naïve whores, albeit a slightly more useful than usual whore.”
Keely’s instinct was to refute the whore accusation, but in this case denial would have been laughable. It pained her how easily Susan shattered her illusions. Her tentatively restored pride had taken a heavy blow. “So what makes me useful?”
“John Wayne has a proposition for you. If you do what he wants, you can keep your favored position here in the big house.”
“And if not?”
Susan smirked. “You’ll belong to me again. And this time I’ll be able to do with you as I wish. I won’t have to hide or justify my treatment of you. No one will have a problem with it because everyone will know John approves. And after his speech tonight, the sheep will accept all John’s proclamations as holy writ.”
“That’s crazy.”
Susan laughed. “Is it? Do you really think so?”
Yet again Keely was forced to face an unpleasant truth. The Order faithful were already inclined to do as Susan said. John was their messiah. She had thought of him that way too. But now she felt only a sense of betrayal. She’d let herself believe John was genuinely interested in her as a person and as a valuable member of his inner circle. But the truth was he’d just been using her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but now that she’d been confronted with this ugly reality all she could do was accept it. Because the only other scenario—a future as Susan’s slave—was no option at all.
She’d sooner die.
“Fine. What does John want me to do?”
Susan smiled brightly and held up an admonishing forefinger, which she waggled back and forth a time or two. “Ah-ah, not so fast. We’ll get to that in a moment. First I need something from you.” Her eyes flicked toward Keely’s chest. She opened her mouth and licked her lips. “Take off your top.”
Keely scowled. “What? No way.”
She flinched as Susan raised the cane and touched the tip of it to her cheek. “Do it. Unless you’d like me to whip you mercilessly. The choice is up to you.”
“You fucking bitch.”
Susan laughed. “Yes. I am. You have until the count of five to remove your top. Five—”
Keely pulled her top off and held her chin high. “There. You happy?”
Susan smiled. “Very.”
She made no move to touch Keely. Instead she just stood there and stared at her bare breasts for at least a full minute. Her eyes had a glazed look. But she soon snapped out of it, giving her head a hard shake before smiling again. “My. I do believe you have the loveliest breasts I’ve ever seen. You can put your top back on.”
Keely wasted no time doing just that. “All right, you’ve had your fun. Now what the fuck does John Wayne want from me?”
Susan held up the cell phone. “We’re to record a scripted video message to your brother. You are to say every word exactly as we’ve written it out for you. Your job is to make your brother believe you really mean the things you say. Do you think you can manage that, stupid girl?”
Keely frowned. “But nobody knows where Casey is. John says he’s in hiding somewhere.”
Susan nodded. “And so he is. But the boy can’t lay low forever. He’s bound to surface eventually. And when he does, representatives of the Order will deliver the message to him personally.”
Keely chewed her bottom
lip and fretted over it a moment. “What am I supposed to say?”
Susan called for Boyd again. He came into the room and produced a folded sheet of paper at Susan’s request. Susan passed it to Keely, who frowned as she unfolded it and began to read the short script.
Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes got big as she encountered a particularly alarming passage. “You’re gonna hurt Casey.”
“He’s caused us a lot of trouble.”
Keely had her issues with Casey, it was true. There were times when she felt like she hated him. But she had never wished him any real harm. She couldn’t go along with this.
Could she?
Susan came closer and put a hand on Keely’s hip. “I know you think I’m cold-hearted, but I’m not a total monster. You don’t have to do this. You can refuse John’s offer and surrender yourself to me.” She raised a hand to smooth back a lock of Keely’s blonde hair. “I think we both know it’s what you really want, deep down.”
Keely’s face hardened. “Back off, bitch. I’ll read the goddamned script.”
The humor leeched out of Susan’s face. She sniffed disdainfully. “So be it. Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Sixteen
Some Fucked-Up Shit that Happened on the Road, Part Three
Somewhere in Louisiana…
The look on the doorman’s face as the trio of tattooed badass babes strolled up to the strip club’s entrance was comical. The way his mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out made the women smirk. Though he didn’t know who they were—had, in fact, never laid eyes on them in his life—he waved them in ahead of some guys who were waiting in line to show their ID’s.
The reason was simple—chicks with the kind of looks these three had were just good for business. It was standard operating procedure in a scenario like this. Hot female customers got a kick out of stirring up the male patrons. They would pay the strippers to give them lap dances, maybe even make out with them. Technically touching was against the rules, but the rules never applied to knockouts like these. The faux-Sapphic shenanigans got the male customers extra stimulated, causing them to get extra loose with their money. The female customers got the attention they wanted and the dancers and the club made serious bank, a win-win proposition for everyone.