by Jerry Hart
He stepped into the foyer and looked around carefully. The house was quiet. The air smelled familiar; it burned his nose. He was reminded of the way Les’s house had smelled, and there had been dead bodies there.
As he looked around, Owen saw something in the living room to his right. It was D. He walked cautiously to the robot and noticed its blue eyes were dark. D was turned off. Owen reached behind the head and flipped the switch. Nothing. The battery must have finally gone dead.
The light he’d seen from the outside was coming from the adjoining kitchen, which cast the living room in a dim glow. Jason could be hiding somewhere in here and Owen wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.
Walking to the kitchen, he grabbed a knife to go with his hammer. He felt a little better being in the brightly lit kitchen, but it didn’t alleviate the feeling he was being watched, and for some strange reason, he didn’t think it was Jason doing the watching.
Owen walked out of the kitchen, passing a huge hole in a wall and a pile of rubble on the floor (this place was pretty much turning into Les’s house). He knew this to be the hole Curtis had made when Jason punched him through the wall earlier. Owen looked into the garage and saw no one there.
He turned down the main hallway, facing the front door, and was not shocked to see that it was closed now. He had left it open when he came in, that he was sure of. He walked slowly toward it. The first room on his right was open and pitch black inside. He stared into the darkness for a moment, noticing a rotten smell. He flipped the light switch quickly and was relieved to see no one there. Inside the room was a bed against the wall opposite him. The sheets were soiled yellow. Owen figured that was the source of the smell. It looked like a deathbed.
Forgetting the room now, he moved on to the next one. He flipped the switch and saw the room was a study. There was no one in there either, though Owen saw his backpack on a desk and the pump from Cullen’s truck. This was confirmation enough of Jason’s involvement with the bomb-balloons.
Owen was about to move on and search the second floor when he heard a thump behind him.
Someone was there.
The smell from the room was suddenly stronger. With knife and hammer in hand, he whirled around and saw…
At first, he didn’t know what he saw. His brain just couldn’t register it. His eyes only took things in like snapshots on a camera. He saw little red strings of hair on a practically bald head.
Snap!
Next, he saw dark sunken eyes in what looked like a skull with a thin layer of skin.
Snap!
Then he saw a dirty white T-shirt on an extremely thin torso. A bony arm was raised in front of the thing, its fingers reaching for Owen.
He wanted to scream but couldn’t. He wanted to stab the monster but couldn’t. The hammer also seemed useless. He simply backed away from the creature. It wasn’t a leech, though it reminded Owen of the one in the shoe store. Owen kept walking backward until he bumped into something. That something wrapped its arms around him, locking his arms to his side.
“Hello, Owen,” Jason whispered into his ear. Owen tried to free himself but Jason wasn’t letting go. “This is nice. All of us together again.”
Suddenly the knife Owen was holding flew down the hall. Jason had knocked it out of his hand.
“Look what you did,” Jason said casually. “Look at what you did to my brother.”
Owen, who had been trying to avoid looking at the creature in front of him, finally gazed upon it. The thing that had terrified him was Michael. He looked like a walking corpse. His skin was wasting away on his bones. It was hard to accept that this could happen to him after only two days.
“What happened to him?” Owen found himself asking.
“The thing that was inside him left his body that night at the garage. It left him because it thought he was dying. The moment it did, Michael started to deteriorate. All the bodily harm that was done to him by you and Les while under its influence is now affecting him tenfold.”
Michael stepped closer to them. Owen couldn’t look at him anymore.
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you two?” Owen asked.
“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” Jason said, and Owen could hear a smile behind the words. “You’re going to fix him.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re going to give him your power, your half of the supplement.”
Michael took another shambling step closer.
“If it’s that simple, why didn’t you return the half you took from him?” Owen asked, stalling while he thought of a way out of this. “You said it yourself: It left him because he was dying.”
“It thought he was dying, though he was only unconscious. But, as you can see, he’s up and at ’em now.”
Owen looked at Michael again. He was barely “up and at ’em” right now. Owen couldn’t imagine him looking worse than this.
“If it will take him back,” Owen said, “then why didn’t you just give him yours?”
“Because I’m incredibly selfish,” Jason said, tightening his grip on Owen. “Once I got it, I couldn’t give it back. But now I don’t have to, because you’re here. I was going to join them in me so that I could fix the orb, but my brother’s needs are greater than mine. Once he’s back to his old self, we can work together, like brothers should.”
Fix the orb? What was wrong with it? Owen didn’t ask because it didn’t matter. He struggled in Jason’s grip again, but it was unbreakable. At first, he didn’t understand why that was, but then he remembered that the two of them were of equal strength. If they had been playing tug-of-war, neither of them would have won. The game would have just gone on forever.
Owen needed to be a little stronger. D would surely fit the bill if it weren’t for his dead battery.
Michael’s warm, clammy fingers touched Owen’s face. Owen freaked out at the touch and instinctively jerked his head back, which connected with Jason’s face.
He let go of Owen in that instant, so Owen darted around him, not wasting a second. He went to the living room, where D still stood like a statue. Statue? Owen suddenly had a crazy idea, but before he could attempt to execute it, Jason had him in his grasp once again. He spun Owen away from the robot to face the hallway where they had just come from.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jason asked. “We’re not finished.”
Owen reached out with his fingertips for D’s hand. They were standing next to the machine and Owen could feel its cold steel fingers. If he could just will it out of him for just a minute, convince it to help him…
“Your robot can’t help you,” Jason said coldly.
Michael came shambling into the living room to join them. Jason ushered Owen toward his little corpse-brother. Owen didn’t resist—he no longer had the energy.
As Michael drew closer with his fingers outstretched, Jason said to Owen, “Normally you would have to be dead or close to it for the supplement to leave, but Michael and I have found a way to coax it out of you. Because we’re considerate like that.”
Michael laid his clammy fingers on Owen’s face again. Owen wanted to scream, but didn’t. He felt nauseated from his sudden weakness. But that was okay. It would all be okay in a minute. He tried communicating with the supplement as it got comfortable in its new host—he’d only been able to filter a little bit of it out. He could feel what it was feeling.
“Dad would be so proud of us,” Jason said to Michael. “Of the things we’re going to accomplish. Taking over a whole world is something even he couldn’t do.”
That last part stayed with Owen. Just who was their father? Suddenly Michael brought his hands away from Owen’s face and said something unintelligible. Owen was expecting Jason to tell his brother to repeat himself and not mumble, but instead, he said, “What do you mean he doesn’t have it?”
Owen had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize the extraction had begun. He’d been so repulsed by Mic
hael’s touch that he’d retreated into his own mind, to communicate with it.
Just then, something grabbed both of Jason’s arms and pried them from around Owen. Owen fell to the floor and looked up to see D pulling Jason’s arms back as far as they could go. No, farther. Owen winced at the sounds of Jason’s shoulders popping out of their sockets.
Jason screamed in pain as D lifted him into the air and threw him straight through the ceiling. Owen could hear the path of destruction Jason left as he soared through the floor of the upstairs bedroom.
Owen stood up and backed away as D rampaged up the stairs in the hall. Michael took this as his cue to flee. Owen followed him as he shuffled down the hall and into the last room on the left, the one with the soiled bed. He tried to close the door behind him, but Owen pushed it open.
Michael fell to the floor; he looked so pitiful. Owen looked to his left and saw a big sword and axe in the corner. They seemed so out of place in this house. He recalled Les Huntington’s life-sized Norrack and Aslain replicas, and how Curtis had said their weapons were missing. These must have been them.
He walked over to the corner and grabbed the axe. It was almost too heavy to lift in his weakened state. He did it anyway. Nothing was going to stop him from what he was about to do.
He then walked over to Michael and lifted the axe over his head with all of his might. Michael shielded his face with his bony hand and mumbled something that didn’t make any sense. Owen held his pose, straining to keep the axe raised. He barely heard the ruckus going on upstairs as D attacked Jason. Owen was controlling D like a remote (there was still a little of the supplement left in Owen’s mind to do this); he could see through the robot’s eyes as well as he could see through his own. He knew he would eventually have to go up there. For the moment, though, he just stood where he was. This pathetic creature lying on the floor, begging for his life in some weird language, had killed Daniel and Alyssa in cold blood. He’d killed Curtis’s friends Marco, David and Les. He had tried to take over the world with his brother, resulting in the deaths of innocent people who couldn’t control their actions.
He didn’t deserve to live. Not in Owen’s eyes.
But…
He lowered the axe and backed away from Michael, never taking his eyes off of him. He knew he was crying as he walked away, but he didn’t care. He started down the hall, intending to go upstairs to help D fight Jason—
Daniel.
Alyssa.
Owen yelled so hard his throat burned. He raised the axe and ran back into Michael’s room. Before he could even swing it, however, Michael clutched his dirty shirt with his bony hand. His mouth hung open, as if trying to catch a breath. At first Owen didn’t understand what was happening, but then he realized the monster on the floor was having a heart attack.
The attack lasted for a few seconds that felt like a lifetime to Owen.
Then, finally, Michael collapsed on the floor. He was dead.
Owen had no doubt in his mind that the attack had been brought on by him charging into the room like a maniac. He knew he’d been the cause of Michael’s death.
* * *
After a few moments, Owen walked out of the room and went down the hall toward the staircase. He was passing the study when he noticed something on the desk. It was poking out of his backpack.
He went to the desk and picked it up. He wondered why Jason hadn’t used the Rejecter in his deadly plan. Perhaps he couldn’t tell what it was—it was unlike the Buster bombs.
Half of the Rejecter’s casing had been removed. Maybe Jason just couldn’t figure it out. Owen wasn’t surprised: No one could match Daniel Hudson’s genius. With a satisfying snap, Owen put the other half of the casing on and went back out to the hall and up the stairs.
On the top floor were three bedrooms. Owen went to the one on the far right. It was the master bedroom. The door was open, so he stepped in. He was only vaguely aware of the dead old couple lying in their bed, eyes wide open and their necks broken.
He did, however, notice Jason lying on his back on the floor next to the bed. The hole he’d made was right next to him; his right leg dangled through it. He was bleeding from his eyes, ears and nose. D was standing a few feet away, staring at Owen. He went to the robot and placed his hand on its shoulder. The white mist that was the “supplement” flowed back into his body. Immediately he felt better. After that was done, he knelt down next to Jason’s bleeding, broken form. His white shirt and blue tie were painted red.
“You killed Michael, didn’t you?” Jason managed to say. Blood spilled out of his mouth as he did. Owen ignored him. He was thinking about how he wanted to kill Jason. “Your robot broke my back. Are you happy?”
“You know, once you’re gone, the other half will be mine,” Owen said coldly.
“Once those two join, you’ll only want to do one thing, and that’s to rule the planet,” Jason said confidently. “You won’t even be able to fight it. The will behind it is too strong.”
Owen groaned noncommittally.
And then Jason said, “I know all about Armenus.” This got Owen’s attention. “I know all about what he wanted to do in his world, and how he was thwarted. That’s why he ran. But he had every intention of going back and finishing what he started. It was an accident, him coming to our world.”
Owen listened, never taking his eyes off Jason’s. If what he said about the supplement was true, could Owen risk taking it on himself? Claude and Calvin didn’t yet know he had it, so would they be able to dispose of it when Owen returned the orb to them?
And then Owen saw the orb under the bed. It wasn’t on. He was about to reach under and grab it when a hand clutched his shoulder and threw him against a wall. The breath was knocked from his lungs. Before he could get it back, Jason was in his face. The blood from his mouth flew into Owen’s eyes, stinging them.
“You killed my brother,” Jason snarled. “And now I’m going to kill you.”
Owen cursed himself for falling for Jason’s lie. The blonde’s back wasn’t broken. Owen remembered in that brief second how Eric had escaped death by telling Owen his shoes were untied.
Jason spun Owen around and threw him through the ceiling. Owen landed on the shingled roof of the house and immediately rolled toward the edge. He was able to grab hold of the gutter to keep from falling to the ground but he lost his grip on the axe.
The axe lay just out of reach of Owen as he dangled off the gutter. He looked down at the ground. He wouldn’t die if he fell, but he would probably break something.
A noise caught his attention. He turned back to the roof and saw Jason standing next to the hole. He was holding the sword Owen had left in the bedroom downstairs.
Jason carefully made his way toward Owen, sword held high over his head. “Goodbye, Owen!” he said as he swung the weapon hard.
Owen let go of the gutter and fell through the air for a few heart-stopping seconds. Then he hit the ground hard. He lay there for a second before realizing he hadn’t broken any bones. He sat up and sighed in relief as he looked up to the roof.
The relief didn’t last long. The sword was shooting toward him like a bullet. Owen spread his legs as the sword landed between them. His eyes went wide as he realized how close it had come.
He looked back up to the roof and saw Jason standing there, now holding the axe. Owen jumped to his feet, pulled the sword from the ground, and then leaped into the air. He landed on the edge of the roof, right in front of Jason.
The blonde swung the axe so quickly Owen was barely able to block it with the sword. The blow caused him to teeter on the edge. Jason was preparing to cut his head off as Owen regained his balance and spun around. Now he was standing next to the blonde with the axe.
Owen swung the sword and connected with Jason’s weapon. The force was so strong that the axe would have flown from Jason’s hand had he not been holding it so tightly. He fell down on the roof because of his unwillingness to let go. Owen stood over him, breathing heavily
. His eyes were fire.
“You killed my friends,” he said to Jason.
“And you killed my brother.”
“Where does that leave us?” Owen’s mind was racing; he didn’t know what to do. He wished Chris were here now. He was the leader.
“Where I come from,” said Jason, “we don’t have videogames. We don’t even have last names like you, Owen Walters. We don’t have much at all. My brother and I were left to fend for ourselves when our foster parents were murdered. You have no idea what we went through. I don’t apologize for the things my brother and I have done.”
“Good,” Owen said. “Then I won’t feel bad for doing this.”
Before he even knew he was doing it, he was placing the already-activated Rejecter into Jason’s mouth. Complete silence surrounded the two of them as it lit up, sucking up all sound. Owen closed Jason’s mouth and pressed his hand down against his lips to keep them closed.
Light spilled out of Jason’s ears and nose as his whole head trembled. For a brief, comical moment, his eyes even crossed.
The force of the explosion sent Owen flying up. He fell through the hole in the ceiling and landed on his chest at the foot of the bed. He lay there for a moment after the wind was knocked out of him.
Then he rolled onto his back and looked up at the hole. A silvery mist was making its way toward him, and he didn’t attempt to get away from it. He was no longer afraid.
The joining of the halves wasn’t as chaotic as he thought it would be. His head felt cold at first, and he thought he was going to experience brain freeze, but then the coldness evaporated. All he was left with was the need to hold the orb in his hands. The urge to rule was there, and it was strong. Owen could feel Armenus’s rage as if it were his own. Armenus wanted to be a leader, but Owen had never wanted that for himself. That had been Chris’s job. Owen wondered how Chris would handle this situation if he’d been the one to house the supplement in his head.
Thinking of Chris was like a slap to the face. He was still out there, zombified. And then Owen thought of Alyssa and Daniel. He’d come all this way to find answers, so that their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. They had died because of the orb, and now Owen had all the pieces of the puzzle before him.