Rook crossed the expansive office, the parquet floor cold under her bare feet, and another armed alarm pad confronted her. What demanded all this security? Maybe Kyle didn’t want some rival religion to come in and steal his deluxe leather bible with the word of god highlighted in red.
If he was so pious, shouldn’t he believe god wouldn’t let anyone in here who He didn’t want in here? Kyle only pretended to be religious in order to keep control. There was something else going on. If she couldn’t escape, she might as well try to figure out what it was.
Was there any point to searching this desk again? Rook slumped into the overstuffed leather chair and pouted. Everything looked the same as on her first night here. She flipped through the desk calendar again, and again found nothing of interest. She stopped, hand hovering beside the phone.
Would it work? Or would it call the guards?
This was a business office. There was no way all the phones were routed through the guard station.
Right?
After five agonizing minutes of internal argument, she made up her mind and lifted the receiver to her ear, ready to hang up and dart back to bed if it rang through to the guards. If not, she’d dial 911.
There was a third option she had not anticipated. A robotic female voice stated, “The phone system is currently on Night Mode. If this is an emergency, you may override Night Mode by entering your six digit personal identification code, followed by the pound sign.”
Fuck.
Rook climbed the stairs back to the apartment, resigned to a long, tedious search. But not tonight. If she slept all day, Kyle would get suspicious.
The desk had four drawers full of files, plus there were the boxes by the door. Rook decided to pace herself and start with the desk — one drawer each night. Not only would that interfere less with her sleep, it would also prolong the distraction the investigation provided.
*** *** ***
Marcus spent several days locked inside Talisman, fasting in preparation for a vision quest. When every cell of his body screamed with hunger, he nourished himself with peyote. His body was clean, empty and receptive to a message. The mescal slammed into his system and transported him to another realm.
The Great Spirits of that realm treated Coyote well. They smoked with him and shared their women. Coyote was honored and pleased, but not content. He needed Raven. The Great Spirits agreed, and told him of a plan to defeat the other shaman and claim her. They put a mark upon his hand so Raven could know the truth of his words.
He knew what to do, now he needed to find out where to go. The gods of the DMV were pleased with Marcus’s monetary gifts and agreed to help him. The SHAWMIN plate was registered to Shaw Ministries in Donner. Marcus recognized Brian Shaw as his mental tormenter from Rook’s rescue at the factory, but not as the man who carried her away. News of Shaw’s demise confirmed that.
Coyote knew he was ready to face his adversary, whoever he might be. This one final test and he and Raven would begin their reign of chaos.
*** *** ***
After a day spent burning batch after batch of peanut butter cookies due to Brook’s distracting obsession with soap operas, Rook slipped out of bed as soon as Kyle’s breathing became deep and regular. The keys were once again on top of the dresser, in a pile with spare change and Kyle’s wallet.
Until now Rook hadn’t considered rifling the wallet. If she was careful he shouldn’t notice.
The contents were disappointing: Shaw Ministries corporate credit card, less than a hundred dollars cash, frequent flyer loyalty card from a Webster sub shop, a condom. Nothing that looked like a security pass, no cheat sheet with alarm codes. Rook memorized the credit card number and put everything back the way she found it.
Before starting her search of the den, Rook trotted down to Kyle’s office and checked to see if the alarm was armed and the phone on Night Mode. Suspicions confirmed, she went back upstairs and sat on the oriental carpet in front of Shaw’s desk.
The first drawer held correspondence, chronological within each alphabetical listing, mostly concerning the finances and ‘good works’ of Shaw Ministries. Rook went through all of it, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything tying the ministry to the mysterious factory.
A Real World marathon kept Rook occupied the next day. Kyle came up for lunch and watched an episode with her. He took her out onto the balcony to fuck before going back to his office.
Rook checked the alarm pad that night. If she ever found it unarmed she would need to remember to get dressed before running out of the building.
The papers in the second drawer all pertained to old sermons and the New Revelations. The sermons were filed chronologically along with notes and bibliographies. Shaw had subtly been wording things to prepare his audience for his Revelations. A bunch of religious bullshit, but at least a change from the dry financials of the previous night. The writings were dense and Rook struggled to keep everything straight. Eventually she admitted she couldn’t stick to her original schedule and saved half for the next night.
Rook couldn’t take any notes during her research because Kyle might find them. While Brook watched The Price Is Right, Rook mentally reviewed what she had learned, which was not much. Hopefully the rest of the papers in the drawer would fill in the gaps.
By the time she replaced the drawer that night, Rook’s brain was so full of useless theology it almost drowned out Kyle’s oppressive drone.
This stuff veered wildly off the map of generally accepted scripture. It was ridiculous of course, but Rook could see how someone could draw parallels from the story to Fin, Kyle and herself. She would be the Completer, the Tanner brothers the Divided Man. In some nebulous and undefined way she was meant to, what, be a bridge between the halves? Did Kyle step so neatly into her life the moment Fin died because it was foretold? Bullshit. Prophecy could go fulfill itself. She hoped this wasn’t being preached from the Shaw Ministries pulpit. It would be utterly embarrassing to get away from Kyle only to have people regarding her as some sort of icon.
At lunchtime the next day Kyle came upstairs, pulled her into the bedroom and callously fucked her twice, then went back to work, all without saying a word. At dinner she caught him glaring. This was how things were with Marcus.
At least with Kyle she felt she had a good excuse for not leaving.
The third drawer held staff reports, employee records, resumes. Nothing about Kyle. No reason to think he had even worked for Shaw, let alone been the heir apparent.
All the next day Kyle was agitated. It was Saturday, so he spent the whole day in the apartment making Rook nervous. His signal came through skittery and intense.
Shortly after dinner Kyle announced he had some pressing business. Gary was needed elsewhere tonight, so Mitch would be staying with Rook. She must stay out of the bedroom so Mitch could see her. If she needed to use the bathroom, she was to use the one in the hall and not take too long. Mitch knew how to keep her safe. She shouldn’t worry. She should, as always, behave.
Mitch turned out to be less personable than Gary. He sat in the armchair where he could see the front door and the glass door to the balcony. He had a hefty handgun which he kept in plain view, and a little thing in his ear like a secret service agent. He told her to keep the volume down on the TV. He called her Mrs Tanner. Rook didn’t like Mitch.
The evening passed slowly. Mitch did not falter once in his duties. Rook hoped he would fall asleep like the guards in movies, but he stayed alert the entire time. She actually wished Kyle would come home.
At midnight, Mitch stood and stretched. Rook arched her eyebrows at him.
“Mr Tanner is on his way.”
Rook felt Kyle’s vibration increase and a moment later heard the elevator rumble. Mitch approached the front door. Rook heard the elevator bing and the doors open, lots of male voices. Mitch looked out through the peephole, opened the door, and holstered his gun. In swaggered Kyle and four other guys, including Gary, dressed all in black and we
aring bulletproof vests. The boisterous gang smelled of gunpowder. Mitch and several of the men high fived, some let out war whoops. It was like downtown Webster after the Buck U Broncos won a football game.
Kyle grinned like a madman. He trotted over to the sofa where Rook sat, tossed her over his shoulder and did an end-zone dance. He stood her in front of him and kissed her. The other men cheered and hollered.
“We did it!” Kyle explained.
Then he was off to the kitchen, passing out beers.
Rook stood in the living room, wondering whether any of them would notice if she slipped out the open front door and into the elevator. She started walking in roughly that direction, which was also roughly the direction to the kitchen.
“Hey, Mrs Tanner,” one of them yelled. Rook looked up in time to catch the beer he tossed.
Kyle removed his vest and handed it to Mitch. The others handed theirs over too and Mitch tossed the pile out into the vestibule and shut the door.
Amid the revelry Rook pieced together a small amount of the story. This commando squad had just returned from a successful attack on a cult’s headquarters. There was a lot of gunfire, but no serious injuries “on our side.” They hadn’t recovered the whole batch, but got most of it. They were the dudes! They were awesome! They kicked ass!
After two beers, Kyle gave the guys five hundred dollars to celebrate with and booted them out. He celebrated naked with Rook, then had her bathe him to wash away the scent of brimstone aphrodisiac.
In the hot, frothy water of the whirlpool bath, a memory blindsided Rook, of sharing the small bomb shelter tub with Fin. Her heart clenched painfully and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
They had the same shoulders. The same wisp of hair curling around their navels, the same arch to the eyebrow, the same toes.
She could not allow herself to be fooled by the similarities, lulled. There were differences. Rook set out to enumerate them all, to keep the two men separate in her mind. She owed at least that to Fin.
Fin had tattoos, and a pierced ear and eyebrow. Kyle was circumcised, had extensive surgical scarring on his right knee, and short hair...
***
Sunday morning Kyle was up early to watch Spitz’s broadcast. The high from the previous night’s revels had worn off and he was in a surly mood. He said sarcastic and ugly things to the reverend on the TV.
That night in bed things came to a head.
“Why, Rook?” Kyle’s voice came out of the darkness, startling Rook.
“Why what?” Rook hoped she sounded innocent and sleepy.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Sleeping?” In fact, she had been about to get up. How long had he known? What would he do?
“Don’t be stupid.”
Rook kept quiet.
Kyle rolled on top of her, pinning her hands to the pillow above her head, looming.
“Fin’s dead, you know.”
Rook nodded.
“I’m the only one left. It’s not like you have a choice.”
“You’ve got me!”
Kyle used his knee to part Rook’s legs as his vibrations rubbed her mind raw.
“Please, Kyle, tell me what you want!”
“You know,” he said, starting to thrust. “You know exactly what I want and you won’t give it to me.”
“Kyle, I don’t like this game.”
He let go of her left hand and slapped her. She yelped in surprise and pain.
“This is not a game. This is everything. This is fate. You have to Complete one of us. Fin’s dead. That leaves me! Do it!”
Rook felt fear rising into panic and confusion. “Do what?”
“MAKE ME WHOLE!”
Tears slid off her cheeks onto the pillow. Kyle kept thrusting. She realized, distantly, he was talking about the New Revelations.
“I... I can’t. I would. I don’t know how.” It all tumbled out together.
Anger rolled off Kyle. Rook could smell it.
He growled, “A Completer, an Unknowing angel with Shadowed Wings, shall heal the Divided Man and restore Light upon the Earth!” He came. Rook held still.
Kyle got out of bed and left the room. He returned less than a minute later and turned on the lights, spreading out several file folders beside Rook on the bed, along with the little journal from the cigar box downstairs with her underwear. She recognized the files from the desk in Shaw’s den.
She looked up at him, tried to keep her voice calm. “What’s this?” She didn’t want Kyle to know how badly he had scared her.
The anger had left him. Now he was desperate. “This is the future. It’s all here. Read it and then tell me why you refuse to help me.”
Rook read the journal first, while Kyle paced naked. When she set it aside, Kyle said. “Well?”
Rook shrugged.
“Don’t you see yourself?” he demanded.
“Maybe. It could be anybody.”
Kyle refused to believe that. He saw clearly the key individuals were the Tanner brothers and their wife. Divided Man and Completer. The New Revelations also frequently mentioned crows. Crows were rooks. He’d looked it up.
Rook asked why he believed this stuff when he didn’t believe in the bible. Kyle explained this was more like Nostradamus. Rook told him Nostradamus could be interpreted any number of ways, and so could this, but Kyle was already convinced he was right.
“I can’t figure out why it’s not working. I saved you. I fucked you. I married you. I fell in love with you.” He held her with his flat green eyes while she cringed inside and tried to decide if he believed what he’d just said. “You have to want me to be Complete. It’s the only thing left. I even went...” Kyle stopped and looked thoughtful. Rook almost laughed. He looked like a dog trying to understand something. “Tell me, Rook,” he said finally, “what’s the significance of skeletons?”
“Skeletons?” Was Kyle threatening her?
“What do they mean?” he persisted.
“They’re bones,” Rook said slowly.
“What do they symbolize?”
“Please, Kyle, you’re scaring me. I’ll help you if I can.”
“What do they symbolize?”
He wouldn’t be happy until she said it. “Death,” she said quietly.
“Well that’s pretty obvious.” He sounded impatient. “What else?”
“Um. Secrets.”
Kyle’s eyes lit up. “What kind of secrets?”
“Bad ones. You know, skeletons in the closet.”
“Like what, specifically?” he prodded.
“I don’t know!”
Kyle noticed Rook’s agitation. He sighed and smiled. “Hey, calm down.” He moved the papers and sat beside her, putting his arm around her. “You’re so tense.”
I wonder why, Rook thought.
Kyle took her left hand in both of his, playing with her wedding ring. He raised her hand and kissed the ring, kissed her forehead. Sitting with his back against the oak headboard, he snuggled Rook up against his chest with one arm around her, the other still holding her hand.
“You know, we never talk,” he said.
Rook choked back laughter.
“You’re a smart girl, aren’t you?”
“I like to think so,” Rook said. But somehow I ended up in this situation anyway.
“I’d like to find out. Let me get to know you.” He almost sounded like he meant it.
Two weeks after the wedding and they were already getting to know each other? Wasn’t that rushing it a bit?
“Tell me everything you know about skeletons,” Kyle said, like he was asking typical first date, get-to-know-you questions.
“Why?”
“I’m just curious. I want to know what you think.”
“About skeletons.”
“Yes.” He kissed the top of her head.
*** *** ***
As Rook spoke, the sexy purr that lived in Kyle’s head settled down to its normal level. It always flared up
while he fucked her, tonight more so than usual. Kyle soon remembered why he didn’t usually spend his time in intellectual conversation with his lays. Several times he needed to drag his gaze away from her tits in order to follow what she was saying. All she knew about skeletons was a lot, it seemed, and most of it symbolic. Kyle tried hard to pay attention. Something she would say would enable him to decipher and utilize the slimy bones he dragged out of her head and forgot about.
She went from obvious things like death to more subjective things like mortality, secrets, buried things, to the downright abstract. That’s where Kyle paid the most attention. The way Rook saw it, skeletons could symbolize very personal things since they were the innermost part of the body. They were also a lasting record of the past. Being the most enduring part of the body, they were the most likely part from which a resurrection would occur. That’s why Egyptians made mummies, why burial started as a practice worldwide.
“Of course, by nature they like to be hidden. That’s why they’re easy to forget about.”
“Are they?” Kyle thought that might explain why he hadn’t thought about Rook’s bones since he took them.
“Can you remember exactly where your childhood dog is buried?”
“Point taken.” Kyle never had a dog, but he didn’t want to slow her down.
“If you ask me, a person’s skeleton is a sort of key, a Rosetta Stone. If you can control the skeleton, you can learn anything about them. You can control the person,” she concluded.
Kyle liked the sound of that.
“How?”
“Ask Marcus, he’s the one who thinks he’s a shaman.”
“Is that like a voodoo thing? A witch doctor?”
Rook laughed heartily. “No, more like a medicine man.”
“But he didn’t explain the zombie thing to you?”
“Skeletons are one of the few things he didn’t preach about. He thinks we’re going to live forever, being gods and all.”
Miss Brandymoon's Device: a novel of sex, nanotech, and a sentient lava lamp (Divided Man Book 1) Page 28