by David Beers
“There’s someone else? Another one?” Luke asked.
Christian closed his eyes and shook his head. “What. Do. You. Want,” he said through gritted teeth.
“There. That’s the man I know and love. The one whose determination will carry him across galaxies.”
Christian heard Luke move, relaxing back in his chair. Christian didn’t open his eyes.
“You went and saw Jennie, then you decided to tell me about her on television. How did you find out about her, Christian?”
“I … I saw her in my mansion.”
“But I never mentioned her,” Luke said.
“It doesn’t matter. My mind was ….” His face flexed involuntarily. “It was trying to tell me something.”
“What? Did you ever figure it out?”
“NO!” Christian shouted.
A pause ensued, and when Luke spoke, his voice was low. “Why not? Are you ignoring it?”
More tears squeezed from beneath Christian’s eyelids. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“BECAUSE YOU MADE HER CHOOSE! YOU MADE HER CHOOSE WHETHER SHE WOULD PLANT THOSE DRUGS ON HER ROOMMATE OR NOT!”
“That’s right,” Luke said, his voice a shocking contrast to Christian’s screams. “I did. I gave her a choice of which road she would go down. True, I lied about her roommate coming on to me, but she didn’t have to plant the drugs in her car. That choice was hers and hers alone, and it set up the rest of her choices.”
“I don’t want to make a choice,” Christian whispered.
Luke ignored him. “Once she decided that it was okay to do what she wanted, regardless of any moral boundaries, she made poorer and poorer choices. And now … well, now might not be the right word, but she ended up in a slum and worked at a bar. All because of that first choice. What do you think your mind was trying to tell you, Christian, by showing you the first person I gave a choice to?”
“It wanted me to focus on my own choice.”
“That’s right. But why haven’t you?”
“Because I don’t want to. Because I knew I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop you. Because I CAN’T EVEN GO INSIDE MY OWN FUCKING HEAD ANYMORE!”
“ … Right on all accounts,” Luke said. “But the time is almost here and you need to start considering it. Do you know what the choice will be?”
Christian nodded.
“Tell me.”
He shook his head, resorting to an almost childlike state—his whole essence trying to push away what was being thrust upon him.
“Yes, Christian. It’s important.”
He shook his head again.
“Fine. But you know what it is, and you know that you know.” Silence fell on the room for a few minutes, and slowly, Christian’s mental stability returned some, enough to allow him to open his eyes. “Our host is watching us right now,” Luke continued. “He’s listening. He’s going to kill us. That’s what Waverly paid him to do, and I think our boy is big on keeping his promises. Are you ready to die?”
Christian nodded.
“I thought so. Are you ready for me to die?”
He nodded again.
“Perhaps one day you will want to live? Though, time is short on that.”
Christian stared at Luke without a clue as to what he meant.
Luke held his eyes with an intensity that Christian once thought entrancing. An intensity that communicated more than words could ever hope to.
“Tomorrow, Christian, you get to choose who lives or dies. Tommy or Veronica. One of them will, unless of course you prefer they both do.”
How long have I been ignoring it? It’s been so obvious the entire time, from the moment I knew Luke would come for me. Maybe from the moment he took Veronica. That would be my fate, choosing who died—yet, what did I do? I ignored it. I shoved it aside, because I couldn’t handle it. And now, look at what it’s gotten me … I’m trapped in a madman’s house, and tomorrow, someone I love dies by my choice.
“You could have stopped it,” the mouth said. It hovered directly above his head, tilted downward so its teeth faced the floor. “You could have analyzed this and found a way to stop him.”
It was right. His mind showed him Jennie Goodrow so that he could begin understanding what Luke would force on him. A choice. One that would irrevocably change his life forever. Yet, he’d hidden from it, refusing to see the truth. Then, in that damp sewer, his mind tried to show him again with the people in the chairs. It couldn’t come out and simply say it, because Christian wouldn’t have been able to handle that at all.
His weaknesses kept his mind from flat out telling him the truth, always trying to lead him to it. Yet, Christian had been too weak for that. Before, Luke tried to make him choose who died: people he didn’t know through Luke’s war, or Christian’s family and friends by Christian’s own hand. Then, the choice had been easy.
But his mind had known Luke would make it harder. That he would force Christian to play his game. Only, Christian refused, choosing what little peace he could find rather than recognize fate as it roared toward him.
The other sat across the room, despondent. Had Christian ever thought he would identify with such a creature? Something left behind by Luke himself?
“No,” the other said. “I don’t think you could have stopped it. I think this was fate, set in motion from the moment you first showed up at the FBI. Maybe since Quantico.” He sighed and stared blankly across the room. “I’m ready for it to be over. This is just too much. It used to be fun, but now, with this thing hanging around, it’s not fun anymore.”
Christian wanted to respond, to yell at the thing dripping blood from its mouth—scream, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU’RE AS MUCH A PART OF THIS AS ANYTHING ELSE!
He forced his mouth to remain closed though, because he’d only be screaming at an empty room. The voices were talking, but that didn’t mean he had to respond.
Focus on Luke’s words. They were cryptic, but not that cryptic.
Luke was doing just as the dream said he would: he was telling Christian that they needed to act … or everyone would die. He was offering his hand in partnership—to kill the man holding them captive. He wasn’t offering false hope, though. Someone would die tomorrow; Luke was simply saying it needn’t be everyone.
“Why not let everyone die?” the mouth said.
Christian stared into its dark, bottomless opening.
“Let it end, and everyone can walk hand in hand into the night together. A happy family.”
Night fell across the large house. Luke was alone in the living room, or as alone as anyone could be in this place.
He would have a few more hours with Christian tomorrow, but he wasn’t sure how fruitful they’d be. He had thought Christian more resourceful than this; in some ways, he had thought Christian his peer. Yet, that no longer appeared to be the case. Luke had definitely changed when he watched his mother and brother die—but he hadn’t grown weaker. He’d grown stronger.
Christian might have faced more physical pain, but he hadn’t watched his mother be brutalized by a man of the cloth. And still, his mind was crumbling and Luke could do nothing about it.
Were you wrong? he wondered.
He had thought both his cards and his play were better than God’s, yet now it appeared that wasn’t so. It appeared that God might have blocked Luke worse than he ever imagined possible. He needed Christian to get out of this. Veronica would never be capable of killing this psychopath, especially not in her current state. Tommy was useless. Luke was still badly injured.
And, just when he needed Christian the most, to ensure that his plans continued, the man broke.
Well played, God. Well played, Luke thought.
Was he meant to lose? Were these the final moments, and Luke would watch as God scored the game winning goal?
He leaned his head back against the chair and stared at the moon shining across the mountains.
“Are you thinking?”
“Yes,” Luke said
, immediately alert. His mind was restless and annoyed, but it quickly took on a reptilian survival mode. The killer was behind his chair, at a distance of four feet given his voice’s projection. Luke hadn’t heard him appear.
“About what?” The killer moved around the chair, giving Luke a wide berth, letting him know he was not in danger at the moment.
“My life,” Luke said. He wouldn’t lie to this man, not if he could help it.
“Are you not pleased with how it is turning out? Are you afraid of death?”
“Those two possibilities are not bound together. I’m not scared of death, but it isn’t death that makes me unhappy with this ending.”
The man sat down in the seat Christian had occupied earlier.
“I’ve never met someone not afraid of death,” the killer said. “I’ve met people who said they weren’t scared, but in the end, biology takes over. Your cells, your DNA, wants to continue living. Fear sets in. It will set in for you as well.”
The two were silent for a few minutes. Neither took their eyes from the other.
“So, what about your life are you contemplating?”
Luke chuckled, unable to help himself. “My death.”
The killer nodded without mirth. “Do you want me to let you go?”
“No. If I lose, then I lose. I play the game fair.”
“I’ve watched you with these people over the past few days. There is a lot of talk about God. You believe in him?”
Luke nodded.
“I don’t, but you’re playing your game with him, right? With God?”
Luke nodded.
“And if you die, you lose?”
“In this instance, yes.”
The killer nodded. “God didn’t send me after you. Someone else did. If there is collusion, it is between them.”
Luke didn’t know if he was joking or not, but no smile appeared on his face.
How am I going to kill you? Luke wondered. With no help and broken ribs, how do I make you die?
“I’ll leave you alone,” the killer said as he stood up. “I’ll kill you tomorrow. I told the man that hired me you would scream, but I’ve decided against it. I’ll make your death quick. I’ve enjoyed watching you work. You’re an interesting person.”
The killer walked away, leaving Luke alone once again.
This psychopath was going to win and he could barely stand it. Luke’s hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing in the moonlight.
Tomorrow, Luke would either die, or find a way to score against God again.
Chapter 29
Veronica Lopez still existed, though not like before. This wasn’t the first time her existence had changed, as moving across the country and taking on a new identity had been an enterprise. However, she’d never experienced anything like this.
Veronica saw her actions, but she didn’t feel she held control over them. It was an odd feeling, to watch oneself but not be able to do anything about it. She didn’t think she was dreaming, but she wasn’t sure she was actually awake either.
A lot of her time was spent with Luke. She should be angry about that, but in her current state, anger never arose. Sometimes he would make her very sleepy and then talk to her. She never remembered what he said during those times.
Veronica had stood up this morning and walked across her bedroom. She didn’t have any end goal in mind, so when she got to the door, she simply stood there. Perhaps an hour passed. Veronica didn’t notice.
Christian came last night.
The thought fluttered through her mind and she attached to it like a butterfly on a flower.
Christian came here.
The name made her feel something, though she didn’t know what.
Christian …
The name continued. She and Luke had spoken about him recently. They’d actually spoken a lot about him. That was the only real feeling Veronica possessed anymore: the purpose that Luke told her surrounded Christian. Her purpose.
She didn’t want to think about that right now.
Maybe I’ll go see Christian, she thought … 30 minutes after the first idea had come to her.
That sounded like a good plan. Veronica wasn’t aware of it, but it was the actual first idea she’d had in three weeks.
She opened the bedroom door and walked out, moving down the hallway with a singular purpose in mind. She would see Christian. She would see the person that was always in her head. She didn’t know exactly where he was, but the basement might be a good place to start. Tommy still lived down there. She didn’t understand why he refused to come upstairs, but Luke said it was best not to ask.
Veronica found the staircase and wound down with it. Her mind was mostly blank as she walked.
Finally, she reached the floor and went past Tommy’s door. She remembered that they had once been friends. They had once shared intimate thoughts with each other, but she couldn’t remember what they were. Something bad happened to him but whatever it was happened a long time ago, and Luke said it wasn’t important anymore. Bad things had happened to everyone, but Luke assured her those days were past. No more bad things. As long as she remembered her purpose.
She started passing other doors, slowing as she reached each one and looking in.
Veronica went by three before she found someone.
The man was lying on the floor. He had a scar on his cheek, a circular one. He stared up at the ceiling.
This is Christian, Veronica thought. You know him.
Did she, though? Veronica wasn’t sure. He looked familiar, and the scar certainly held something (no bad will happen to anyone anymore, Luke had said) for her, but she didn’t know what.
She reached up to knock on the door before she knew what she was doing. She stared at her hand as if it weren’t attached. She hadn’t known she was going to do that, nor had she watched herself. She had, for the first time in weeks, actually willed something.
Remember your purpose, Luke’s voice came to her, echoing through her head like a midnight bell. No other sounds, nothing to interrupt it. Just the gong, gong, of his voice telling her this was wrong.
Veronica let her hand fall back to her side.
She would remember her purpose, even if she didn’t want to think about it right now.
Veronica stared for a minute longer, then wandered back upstairs. Luke had told her today would be a big day, and she should be ready for it.
Luke awoke and lay as still as Christian was downstairs. Both men stared at the ceiling, both trying to figure out solutions to insurmountable problems.
Luke wondered if death-row inmates felt similarly on their last day. Were they still trying to figure out how to keep the needle from entering their veins, or had they accepted their fate?
Luke was near acceptance, but he would not give up the fight. For his brother, for his mother, for himself, he would go down swinging at this ancient beast of a god.
He finally stood from bed, dressed, and went to gather Tommy. He said nothing as he picked up his former partner, carrying him up the stairs to the living room. It was a large area, and if death were to happen, then let it stain this killer’s main floor. He wanted the living room for the space, though. If there was a chance to escape, he didn’t want to be in tight quarters.
Luke sat Tommy down on the couch. “Do you want your wheelchair?”
“What’s about to happen?”
“We’re probably going to die,” Luke said.
“You don’t see a way out of this.”
“Not yet. However, the Buddhists say it is not about the result, but about the action, so we will continue the best we can.”
“I hope I get to see you die first,” Tommy said.
“I doubt that’ll be the case, but I wish you luck.”
Luke walked away, heading to Veronica’s room. He found her standing next to her bed, staring down at it. It was unmade, which was a good sign. She should do as little as possible—it meant the hypnosis was still holding
strong.
“Veronica, will you come to the living room with me?”
She looked up at him. “Christian is here.”
Luke’s head cocked sideways for a second. He hadn’t expected that response.
“Yes, he is. Are you ready to see him?”
“I don’t know.”
Luke nodded. “Good. Come with me.”
He walked her back to the living room and sat her next to Tommy.
“I’m going to go spend some time with Christian now. I will be gone for a while. Tommy, I understand how you feel about me, and while I’m not sorry for anything I’ve done, I am sorry that you look at me in such a fashion. To show it, I’ve decided to not let your last few hours be spent alone. Veronica will stay with you while I’m away.”
“The woman you’ve turned into a zombie? How kind of you, Luke. You’re a generous individual.”
Luke nodded without smiling. There was no reason to smile. What had once been a glorious endeavor was taking on the hue of failure, and it was a dark, dark color. Luke wasn’t worried about Tommy snapping Veronica out of it. Even if he did, what did it matter at this point? If she came fully back, growing uncontrollable as her situation dawned on her, the contract killer would subdue her quickly.
“I’ll be back,” Luke said.
Tommy watched Luke walk away and then turned to Veronica. She stared straight ahead, looking at the empty chair before her. Her face was calm, disinterested even.
“Veronica, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Do you remember me?”
“Yes. Some.”
“What do you remember?” Tommy asked. He wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, nor what he could get out of it. Still, he would try. If there was breath in him, he would try.
He and Luke shared at least that singular trait.
“We talked about something important once, didn’t we? Something about ourselves?”
“Yes, that’s right. We did. Do you remember what?”
Veronica shook her head. No.
“Do you know what Luke’s done to you? Do you remember him talking to you?”
She shook her head again.