Chapter 166
THRUM
Bright. Brighter than the birth of the universe.
The crinkling fabric shredded through my ears like a sudden gale of wind. A metal saucer bearing, massive, far too large to be the utensil it resembled, forced its way in my mouth, cracking against my teeth. An overwhelming taste of vanilla radiated through my tastebuds and sinuses, so strong and overwhelming I nearly vomited. The metal withdrew, banging against a molar hard enough that my root nerves screamed.
I watched helplessly as a gigantic fist of flesh manipulated the metal, driving it down into an endless sea of white that split easily as the saucer scooped out its insides.
I
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The clock on the TransAms console read 5:00am. Miles took another bite of ice-cream. It tasted like ash in his mouth. He held the pint up and rotated it, gazing at the green and blue label. The brand name was Ben and Harrys, in the same cutesy, copyright-infringing font. Updated from novelbIn.(c)om
To be fair, it wasnt the system knock-offs fault he couldnt taste it. It wasnt quite the same as the original, but from his previous visits to this particular 7-11, it was a damn good imitation. Right down to the vanilla extract and the shitty little black bits that were supposed to look like ground up bean. As far as he was concerned, you had to take time to enjoy the simple things in life. The simple things kept you grounded. Reminded you that no matter how dark you delved, there was something waiting for you on the surface.
Of course, that was easier if you could taste it.
Miles scowled at the spoon, and proceeded to eat it anyway.
Youre going to get diabetes before you hit forty. Hawkins commented from the passenger seat. She had one knee against the console, an unopened pint of Rocky Road balanced on her knee. The green and red neon lights of the sign illuminated her haggard face, unkept hair, and sizable dark bags under her eyes, foundation and other makeup banished with the cosmetic equivalent of a brilopad. Hed never voice it, but Miles secretly preferred her this way. Not that the makeup was bad. Hawkins was an artist with it, and art should be appreciated. But hed seen her like this enough to know that something about her sleepless, messy presentation appealed to him.
Assuming I live to forty. On that note, your hairs going to thin if you dont find a way to manage stress.
Big talk, for a man whose forehead seems to be growing by the year.
Miles toyed with his side swept hair, pushing it up and inspecting his hairline.
So were dropping Matt. As a suspect. Hawkins asked.
We are looking in other directions. Miles confirmed.
Then youre cutting him loose from the Taskforce? Hawkins asked.
No.
So were not dropping him as a suspect. The pint of ice-cream nearly toppled, and Hawkins caught it with a fingertip before it could fall.
Miles fought down an upsurge of annoyance. The problem with working with associates that knew you so well was precisely what it said on the tin. He wasnt sure what he thought. How he felt. About Myrddin, about Matt. About the unknown third party.
His thoughts went to Waller, and his chest hurt. Still, taking emotion out of it, the mans death stuck out like a sore thumb. The garrote Miles gave him was an excellent tool for covertly taking down a threat, but Myrddin had every opportunity to kill Cook after he used it. Only, he hadnt. Considering how quickly things had devolved into chaos, the fact that the bodycount only encompassed a single person was a miracle.
And there was no such thing as miracles.
There was little reason to kill Waller from a rational standpoint. If Myrddin was his own person, unaffiliated from Matt, killing Waller first made a small amount of sense. Hed come up with the profile, which was insulting to Myrddin in too many ways to count. However, it required a degree of pettiness that Miles considered Myrddin to be above. If this was some sort of shadow-play to throw Miles off, killing Waller made no sense at all. If he was smart enough to pull that off, he was smart enough to know that killing the obvious antagonist in the room was stupid as hell.
Yeah. Tyler was pissed. Hes not taking any chances. And the little girl came storming in with more contractors than I saw over three years in Afghanistan.
Hawkins snorted. There were a lot.
Hes safe. As far as the Ordinator is concerned, we stick to homicide rules.
A lot of interviews, a lot of sittting on our hands and wait for Myrddin to make a mistake. Hawkins filled in. Even if were dropping him as a suspect
Which we are
I get the feeling you arent. Hawkins held her silence after that, letting the words sink in.
Ten minutes later, Miles pulled in to a small suburban house on the outskirts of the city. If you walked fifty feet further down this road, you could reach out and touch the dome. Theyd done that together, at the beginning of all this.
Hawkins got out, then bent down and knocked on the window. Miles rolled it down.
She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Want company?
Miles grinned. Pretty sure that twenty-four hour chapel in downtown is still open. Want to be my fourth wife?
Hawkins sighed. If you drive around brooding until the sun comes up, youll hate yourself for it.
Okay mom.
Im getting mixed signals. Do you want me to be your mom or your wife?
Miles made a finger-gun and pointed it at her. Yes.
Gross. Hawkins rolled her eyes and turned, waving behind her. See you in the AM.
Once Hawkins was safely inside, Miles pulled out. He drove almost automatically, until he reached the tall blue tarps that lined the outskirts of region six. Several people in white hazmat suits had removed their helmets and were smoking at a nearby picnic table. A man in a reflective vest next to a concrete barricade waved a flashlight, indicating for him to go around.
He followed the direction, the numbness returning, as he caught glimpses of the flesh covered buildings behind the barricade.
The core of anger hed suppressed so well began to bubble in his gut. Wallers face flashed in his mind. Followed by Myrddins shifting, ever-changing visage. For some reason, the scene of the interrogation, where Myrddin had pretended to waterboard the goon in the necromancers operation flashed in his mind.
It was so easy for things to turn nasty when the stakes were high. If Myrddin had actually intended to waterboard the man with gasoline, Miles might have let him. Instead, hed been impressed with the mans restraint. The reliance on trickery, rather than brute forcing a situation that could have turned ugly all-too-quickly.
Hed been impressed. With Myrddins restraint.
Miles stepped on the gas, blowing through a stop sign. The white arches of the Mcdermott bridge came into view, peeking over the near abandoned highway.
The engine roared as Miles barreled towards the bridge, barely arriving stopping on the median that marked the domes edge where he stumbled out and onto the sidewalk, gripping waist high wall tightly, gazing down into the dark water below as a tingling anxiety ran rampant down his neck, his spine, pressure building until it felt as if his head might explode.
He breathed in and out, waiting for the panic attack to pass.
Whoever you are, Miles whispered raggedly, searching for his elusive reflection in the water, seeing nothing but darkness. Ill find you.
