Swords of Exodus [Dead Six 02] by Larry Correia, Mike Kupari Page B

quite talkative. You described the events of your mother’s death in great detail to me, and I told you I’d look into the matter for you.”
    I’d been too drugged to remember. I sure as hell wouldn’t have talked to Dr. Silvers about it. But deep down, I knew that I had told her everything.
    “The men that murdered your mother were William and Jesse Skinner. The Skinner Brothers were, at the time, the subject of a multi-state manhunt. They’d been terrorizing small communities in the Upper Midwest for a year when you encountered them. The older of the two, Jessie, was suspected of multiple counts of armed robbery, rape, and murder. William was a high-functioning psychotic with extremely violent tendencies.”
    “I know all that. They killed my mom, for chrissakes. I went to court and was interviewed by the cops over and over. Why are you telling me this?”
    “Oh,” Dr. Silvers said, unperturbed. “Last time we spoke, you were having trouble remembering, so I looked into the matter for you. In any case this is what I want to talk about today.”
    “You want to talk about my mother?”
    “Not specifically. I want to talk about what happened to you when you found her dead, when you realized that you were in danger. What did you call it?”
    I looked down at the floor. “ Calm . I was calm.”
    “Yes,” she said, eyebrow raised. “I want to talk about this sense of calm with you.”
    Why is she asking me about that? It was hard to remember what we’d talked about before. I knew I’d been grilled about Gordon Willis a great deal. There had been a sense of desperation in the way she’d asked. He was one of theirs, but he’d gone off the reservation. He’d been working with Eduard Montalban, and I told them that too. I don’t remember telling them about my involvement in Eduard Montalban’s death, but for all I knew, I’d already betrayed Hawk, Bob Lorenzo, and . . . the other Lorenzo, too.
    But why was she asking me about the Calm ? Why was she asking me about my mom? I couldn’t figure out what she wanted, and that scared me.
    Dr. Silvers stood up, and stepped closer to me. “Michael,” she said softly, her lips inches from my ear. “You are a unique individual. What we’re doing now is figuring out the best course for you going forward. Do you understand?”
    “No,” I managed. I felt strange. Groggy, but my heart was racing. They were doing something to me again. I could feel it.
    “That’s alright,” she said, not quite smiling. “I’ll be with you on this journey, every step of the way.”
    I don’t remember much after that.

    LORENZO
    Somewhere over the Caribbean
    February 6th

    The ocean flashed by below us. I leaned my forehead against the Plexiglas window as the plane, a loud, rattling, turboprop Cessna Grand Caravan, banked toward the west, giving me one final look at the white sand and green tropical forest that was St. Carl. I sighed, mentally shifted gears, and returned to business.
    The plane had an unusual interior layout, with limited seating. A curtain hung between the pilots’ seats and the rest of the cabin. The back half of the cabin had a gurney and some medical supplies, presumably for Valentine. The hulking black man sat directly across from me, a bemused expression on his face. He looked me in the eyes, but didn’t say anything. It was pissing me off.
    “So who are you supposed to be?”
    “My name is Antoine,” he replied over the noise and vibration of the engine. The accent suggested West African. A folding table was between us, and it concealed his hands. He either had them folded in his lap or was pointing a gun at me. He smiled, his gleaming white teeth contrasting with his dark skin. The plane vibrated as we gained altitude. My Gearslinger bag was in my lap, one compartment unzipped. I thought about my next move. I didn’t trust these people, and they didn’t trust me. They were right not to trust me.
    “Thank you for coming with us, Mr. Lorenzo. Your