I don’t know what Zachariel’s plan is, but there are way too many debt collectors and guns around us, all spread out. My brain is trying to calculate how this could possibly work, so I can be alert for whenever Zachariel puts his plan into action. But my mind is spinning too fast with too little information.
InTense reaches Ishtar, who hands him a full-face white plastic mask, the kind slashers wear on camera when they don’t want to be identified. A trickle of dread flows through me as I start to piece together what’s happening here… InTense in a mask, Scott from Lifetime in the spotlight, Lifetime vids behind us… and now me. Moloch’s putting together some kind of pre-game show for the big event tomorrow.
Moloch gestures to the debt collector manning the main camera. “Are we set?”
When the collector lifts his head from the elaborate hood of the camera, I finally see his face—it’s Samil, the collector who killed my father and whose life I spared.
“All set to roll on cameras. I’ll need to patch the signal and route the feed once we’re on.” He frowns in my direction. “Is Sterling part of this now?” His glare is cold. I don’t think saving his life has earned me any points.
Moloch gives me a casual glance. “Yes, I’m going to have her make a brief statement. Then it’s the same program we have planned.”
Samil gives a nod then turns to the bank of servers next to the camera. He taps into a screen mounted at the top. While he’s busy setting things up, Moloch backs up until he can keep his gun on Zachariel, out of camera range, while still facing me, square in the camera’s target. With his free hand, he waves to Ishtar, and she drifts just out of camera range. InTense remains standing behind us, his mask propped on top of his head, ready to don.
“As usual, Ms. Sterling, you’ve thrown a wrinkle into our plans,” Moloch says with a small smile. “Only this time, you’ve provided us with a pleasant opportunity to enhance our message regarding the upcoming terrorist attack perpetrated by Lifetime against the good people of California.”
I make a mental note that the attack is limited to California. Of course that’s not of much use, sitting where I am now.
“I’m not really interested in helping you out, Moloch,” I say, just because I need to buy some time. Even with Zachariel’s gun, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered in debt collectors two-to-one.
Moloch gives an elaborate sigh. Then he turns back to Zachariel.
And fires his gun.
The sound is like bomb going off, ricocheting off the walls and yanking my body straight out of the chair. Zachariel’s body jerks and then crumples to the floor.
“No!” I lurch forward, but Moloch’s gun swings to me and makes me stumble to a stop just a few feet from the chair.
“Do I have your attention now, Ms. Sterling?” he asks.
I drag my gaze from the barrel pointed at my head to Zachariel’s body on the floor. My breath is heaving, but I think I hear him moan. His hand moves slightly then lies still. I scan his body, but I can’t tell where he’s been shot. His face is frozen in pain.
Please no. Please no.
“Ms. Sterling, have a seat.” Moloch’s voice echoes in my head, but I don’t respond. I swing my gaze to Wyatt—but he’s still standing, still alive. For the moment. I search his face, but it’s frozen in horror, looking at Zachariel’s body on the floor.
I can’t breathe.
Moloch’s going to kill Wyatt, too. I know it. I have to kill Moloch first. There’s no other way. I have to get to Zachariel’s gun and shoot Moloch dead. And hope that we can fight our way out of the rest of it.
I blink to clear my vision of the tears I can’t afford to have right now.
“Ms. Sterling!” Moloch’s voice makes my body jerk.
I force myself to focus on him. “Is he dead?”
“My intent was to wound him. It’s a shame to waste all that life energy,” Moloch says, a small smirk on his face. “But then again, I’m not that good of a shot.”
“I want to know if he’s dead,” I say, staring him straight in the eyes.
Moloch lifts one eyebrow. “I can make certain he’s dead, if that’s of concern to you.”
“I just want to know!” I pour all my anger into it, then rein it back in. More quietly, I say, “Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Moloch raises the other eyebrow. And it is a strange request. “Very well.” He turns toward Zachariel’s body, on the floor a good ten feet away.
Before he can take a step, I say, “No! Not you. Wyatt.”
Moloch turns back to frown at me.
“I don’t trust you to tell me the truth, Moloch.” I straighten from my cramped position of wanting to run to Zachariel’s aid myself.
Moloch nods, like this is the first thing I’m saying that makes sense, then beckons Seth and Wyatt over with his gun-free hand. I struggle to tame my heaving breaths while they cross the floor. Wyatt kneels by Zachariel’s body, checking for a pulse. Even as he does so, I can hear the moan from Zachariel. But he’s still not moving.
Wyatt looks up. His face is stricken and pale, but he gives me a nod. Zachariel is still alive. At least for the moment. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this, but somehow I need to get over to Zachariel’s body and get his weapon.
Only I’m not exactly in the habit of firing guns. And I have no idea how I’ll accomplish any of that without dying first. At least I have Zachariel and Wyatt in the same physical location. Now I just have to figure out how to get us all out alive.
“Are you quite satisfied, Ms. Sterling?” Moloch’s voice is sneering. He lowers his weapon and takes a few casual steps toward me.
Even though the gun isn’t in my face any longer, I shrink back into my chair. Tension strings my body tight. I startle when I see Scott in the chair next to me. I had forgotten he was there. He’s yet another person Moloch can use against me… only I suspect Scott is still useful to Moloch, so he’s probably not in danger of dying next.
That person would be Wyatt.
“Your part in this is very simple,” Moloch says to me. He’s only a few feet away now, and I can see the glee on his face, like a life energy hit has enlivened it. “You simply need to state that you approve of the message Mr. Garner is about to deliver.”
My stomach wants to heave out its contents. “What happens then?”
“Then, we will film Mr. Garner’s statement and Mr. Mark’s as well.” Moloch dips his head to InTense, who is still standing behind us. He has slipped down the mask, so now he appears to be the ghostly joker that’s the latest fetish persona for slashers. Moloch keeps talking. “There is plenty of slash evidence pointing to Lifetime as the source of this attack, but we wouldn’t want to deny the world a visually compelling cinematic experience to go with it. After all, it’s such a salacious story. And even better now.”
Moloch glances back to Zachariel on the floor. Samil has a small holo-camera hoisted on his shoulder. Seth has stepped back to give him a good shot of Wyatt hovering over Zachariel’s bleeding body. I can just see how that will be cut in to whatever vid loop Moloch is planning to release: Wyatt, another employee of Lifetime, caught red-handed with the debt collector he just murdered.
My jaws ache from clenching my teeth so hard.
“As soon as you’re ready, Samil,” Moloch calls to him.
Samil moves around Zachariel and Wyatt to get a panoramic shot then scurries back to the main camera. Somehow I have to get out of this chair and over to Zachariel’s body. Somehow I have to stop all this madness. But a slowly sinking feeling inside me says no, it’s impossible. You’ve lost. And everyone else is going down with you.
I physically shake that thought from my head. I’m not giving up. Not until I’m the one bleeding and dying on the floor.
“Lifetime’s always been peaceful,” I say to Moloch, my defiance rising again. “No one’s going to believe any of this crap.” I say it, but I know it’s not true. People will believe whatever the government tells them. Whatev
er the media spins. And Moloch’s right: it’s all too salacious and sexy a story not to sell. Especially when ten thousand people will be dead because of it.
The public will be ready to burn Lifetime and everyone associated with it at the stake.
Moloch chuckles, a dark and ugly sound. “Oh, they’ll believe it, Ms. Sterling. Especially when the wild daughter of Richard Sterling joins forces with a rogue slasher to radicalize her father’s peaceful, yet highly ineffective and out-of-date activist organization.”
I’ve locked gazes with Moloch, but my mind is plotting out my next moves—do the vid, then when I’m off screen, make a run for Zachariel’s gun. But Seth is hovering over both Wyatt and Zachariel now. Maybe I can fight Moloch for his gun. I glare all my hatred for him, just to keep him talking while I sort this out. My silence and my hateful looks only earn a wider smile from him.
“Besides, it’s not only the people at large who are gullible,” he says. “Given the right slash of the right records, the right bribe in the right hands, anyone can be induced to believe anything—even things they know in their hearts are not true. That’s a lesson I learned early on, Ms. Sterling, thanks to your father.”
I blink, my attention zooming back to him. “What the hell are you talking about, Moloch?”
“Your mother… tell me, how did she die?” He smirks, and I remember what Zachariel said about how much he likes to play games with people. And right now, Moloch’s playing with me, tormenting me, drawing this out while Zachariel lies bleeding on the floor…
“You know how she died,” I throw back, anger clouding my brain again. “You said it yourself: she was cashed out too early in life. Something you’ve been threatening from the beginning to repeat with me. Just like my father—” I stop as what he’s saying hits me like a rock to the head, both stunning me and making me mute. My mother had complications in childbirth. She was cashed out shortly after I was born. All along, my father was convinced it was a revenge-kill for his activism, but after he brought in Jax to investigate… she found it was simply bad records.
Bad records.
“You’ve shifted records before.” My mouth is hanging open. Of course. How could I not have seen this? An organization like Gehenna doesn’t spring up over night. It’s something that’s in the works for years… decades…
Moloch’s eyes light up. “Oh, Ms. Sterling. It’s such a terrible shame we couldn’t convince you to join our cause. You could have done such great things with that intellect, when bent to the proper course.”
“You killed my mother.” I’m gap-mouthed—but it doesn’t make sense, not completely. That was twenty-five years ago.
“Oh no, not me personally,” Moloch says with an amused look. “That was before my time. But from what my predecessor told me, it was a lovely trial run, one of the first true successes Gehenna had in records manipulation. It survived all the scrutiny thrown at it, and in the end… even your father believed it had been a simple mistake. Didn’t he?”
I don’t know why, but somehow this is the last straw for me. The idea that Gehenna’s reach is so far and so deep, that its tendrils have wound into, choked, tarnished, and outright killed everyone and everything that I have ever loved, even back to the moment of my birth…
I decide in that instant that I’m going to kill Moloch with my bare hands.
Or die trying.
I launch myself out of my chair.
Moloch’s not that far away, only a half dozen feet, so he barely has time to react before I’m on him, one hand going for his throat, the other grasping like mad to get hold of his gun hand. The instant I have skin-contact, I pull… but of course Moloch has a thousand years of life energy stored up. It’s like a hundred foot wave curling over me, sucking me into a massive undertow just beyond the contact point of my hand on his throat.
A gun fires.
I can’t tell if it’s Moloch’s gun because I’m still flailing to get my hand on it. But whatever he’s shot, it isn’t me. I finally land a clawing grab at it, getting skin contact and pulling as much as I can against the tidal wave. But I’ve run out of time—he’s finally recovered from the shock of my attack, and he’s pulling life energy out of me so fast I can’t even squeak. I’m frozen in a death mask from head to toe. I hang that way, seized up and clinging to him, then he shoves me away.
My arms and legs are so cramped, I fall like a rock to the floor. Air rushes back into me, but before I can move, he swings his gun around to me.
Another shot rings out.
My body jerks with it.
But there’s no pain. And Moloch looks surprised. He blinks. Once, then twice. Slowly, slowly, his hand with the gun lowers until it’s pointed at the floor. I’m confused all the way until he tips sideways and drops to the floor.
My brain’s absolutely stunned, but my body is on automatic: my legs scramble across the floor and my hands grab Moloch’s gun. I crouch over his slumped form, and only then do I look up.
Wyatt stands over Seth’s body, a gun in his hand. It’s pointed at Moloch. I’m over twenty feet away, but I can easily see Wyatt’s chest heaving.
He shot them both.
It takes me several racing heartbeats to process that—Wyatt must have gotten hold of Zachariel’s gun, shot Seth, then shot Moloch, all while I was grappling with Moloch in the dazzling spotlights of the center of the room. As that all clicks in my mind, Wyatt drops a knee to the floor and scoops up Seth’s gun, which was lying on the carpet just past his body.
You need to move, my brain tells me. This time it’s working, ordering my body into motion. I stand up, gun in hand, and scan the rest of the room. Wyatt has one gun pointed at Samil, standing gap-mouthed by the main camera, and the other aimed at Ishtar, on the opposite side of the circle of holo-cameras. I glance back at Scott—the hapless Lifetime employee is cringing in his chair, legs tucked up.
“You’re with me,” I say. It takes him a moment to react, but he unfolds out of the chair and lurches to my side. I’m not sure how the next minute or two is going to play out, so he better stick close.
Behind the chairs, InTense has shoved up his mask to reveal his face again. His wide-eyed stare is fixated on Moloch’s body on the floor. He slowly inches toward Ishtar, who’s a good ten feet away, off to the side of the chairs, out of camera range. Maybe InTense thinks Ishtar will protect him. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to use her as a shield.
I point Moloch’s gun at him. “Stay where you are.”
InTense raises his hands. “This is not my fight.” His voice has edge, but it’s more like fear than the previous steely-eyed exec bullshit from before. Maybe it’s the gun. Maybe it’s the bodies. I don’t know or care.
“You chose a side already.” I’m very tempted to pull the trigger. Very. But we’re not out of this yet. And even more, I’d like to make him undo his slash work, but at the moment, I’m still working on keeping the good guys alive and the bad guys dead. One more wild card isn’t going to help.
I look to Wyatt. He’s holding his own, but even from here, I can see the tips of the gun barrels shake. He’s already shot two armed men—but that’s a whole different thing from shooting an unarmed woman and a boy barely out of his teens. Even if they are debt collectors. I couldn’t kill Ishtar or Samil the first time around, either, not when they weren’t actively trying to kill me. If they made a move for me now, I would, but Wyatt… I don’t want him to have to live with that.
“Are they alive?” Ishtar’s voice draws me back. She’s asking about Seth and Moloch, both of whom aren’t moving. InTense stands a little straighter, gaining back some of his arrogance now that he has a powerful debt collector by his side.
But I’m still the one with the gun.
Ishtar’s hands are fisted at her side. I’m sure she would rather have me under her palm, but she’s certainly not raising her hands in surrender, either.
“I don’t know,” I say. “If they’re still alive, they won’t be for long. We need stop thi
s thing, Ishtar. Moloch’s as good as dead. Seth, too. There’s no point in this anymore. Get the asshole slasher to help me shut down the attack, and you and Samil can just walk away from this.”
She shakes her head, and I’m pretty sure that’s a no, but just in case, she makes it clear. “Moloch isn’t the only person who understands where the future is headed. And it’s not with the humans, Wraith.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not going to have a future if you don’t help me out here.” But it’s a weak threat, plus I’m running out of time to get some life energy pumped in Zachariel—I don’t know how close death is hovering over him, but it’s not like he has Moloch’s vast reservoir of life energy to help him weather his gunshot wound. The truth is that Moloch and Seth are likely just passed out, unless Wyatt’s shots were luckily dead on. It’s Zachariel who’s going to die here very quickly. I’m praying his wound is something I can fix, or at least patch for now, but I can’t do any of that while holding Ishtar at bay.
She puts a hand on InTense’s shoulder. “Put down the gun, Wraith.”
He tenses up and looks sideways at her, like he’s suddenly unsure whether she’s his friend. I could have told him she never was, not that it matters. Except that I need InTense to stop the attack.
“Moloch’s ways were crude but effective.” Ishtar has a small smile creeping on her face. “Together, I’m sure you and I could find a much more humane way to bring the future that we both know is inevitable.”
I realize she’s already talking about Moloch in the past tense. Which means she’s given up on him… and she’s on to something else. That something else is apparently me… which seems delusional, given the situation. But I don’t like at all that she’s not trying to flee, which is the only thing that makes sense.
“There’s nothing that’s inevitable, Ishtar.” I shift my gun slightly to point at her rather than InTense. “Except for the fact that you’re going to die if you don’t help me out here.”
She shakes her head, and a tiny frown creases her forehead. “It’s such a shame, Wraith. We would have made a lovely team.”
The Debt Collector (Season Two) Page 34
