Chapter #44Plan B by: Seuzz   "We should stop by the elementary school basement on the way back," you say. "Gordon and I didn't think of it last night--"
"Just spit it out!"
"Those copies of the spells. You know I made some, right? Tsosie and Gordon--the evil one, you know--took them out to the basement last night--"
"Shit, those copies!" Prescott exclaims. "Fuckin' good thing you remembered. If the golems got their hands on them, they could double their production speed." He suddenly shoots you a very piercing glance.
"Well, they might not work for them," you continue. "After they converted Roth and Small, they were able to turn a new page in the book. You know how that works, right?"
"Will you stop talking like I'm not you?"
"Well, they got a new spell. I'm not totally clear on what it does, but it's like a new kind of layer that can go into a mask. It uses the same ingredients as in a golem."
"Fuck," Prescott says after a pause, and his knuckles whiten around the wheel. "That sounds bad. It sounds a lot more convenient than setting people on fire."
"But they couldn't get it to work. They copied it out and tried it on Victoria's mask, but nothing happened. So they left it and the other copies back at the basement. They had the book by then, after all."
"Still, we definitely need to pick up the copies you made."
"But if they can't get them to work--"
"Oh, they'll be able to use the copies you made," he says grimly. "I'm pretty sure anybody will be able to use them. Which is why we don't mention them to Blackwell," he adds in a vehement snarl.
"Why? What's so important--?"
"Just keep your mouth shut and leave them with me and Joe. Blackwell's place is a hideout, and the man himself can offer some help. But he's as bad as that thing he has prowling his grounds, and we can't trust him."
"Didn't he take an oath to help?" you ask stonily.
"He's a scorpion, and they can't help their nature. It's a kindness to keep any and all temptations out of his way, or he'll wind up fucking himself."
* * * * *
To your relief, the spell copies are still at the basement. Your phone--the one your twin is carrying--rings as you're returning to the truck. He listens with a taut expression on his face. "Then they're running," he says. "They got Prescott's brother at least, and that means his folks, too." He doesn't look over at you. Briefly, he tells about what you found at Robert's school. "So there's someone at that school who's also a golem. It probably alerted the others, and they'll have gone to ground. We'll double check on this end, but I'm not hopeful.
"There was no one at Black's house or Small's," he tells you when he's hung up. "And they're not answering their phones." He dials a number and puts the phone to his very pale cheek.
"Who are you calling?" you ask, dreading the answer.
"Your dad," he says. His face grows longer as the silence extends. "We'll have to go check out at Salopek after we go by your house again. I'm sorry, Prescott, but--"
You can only swallow. At least it doesn't seem real yet, not without the evidence staring you in the face, as it had with Robert.
* * * * *
There's still no one at your house, and your mom doesn't answer her phone either. Out at Salopek, they tell Will Prescott that his father suddenly left around lunch time on an emergency errand. "They're definitely running," he says as you jog back out to the truck.
"Why? What are they doing?"
"They don't want us getting into any of the masks," he says. "If we recovered one of the masks, we'd instantly have the identities of all their current converts, and could start rolling them up. That's why the golem at the school took your brother's mask. The rest of them are probably gathering in some safe location. Masks are coming off, and the old golems are being stowed away by their new confederates until they can get new, safe masks made for them. Or they'll go to work mass producing masks and other paraphernalia, since there's not enough public disguises to go around."
"How did they get to them so fast? My folks, Gordon's dad? Perry's family was okay last night when we grabbed him. We looked inside his mask last night at Blackwell's, after--"
"Gordon's dad is a cop. That's a mighty convenient guise for getting into someone's house in the middle of the night. Ring the doorbell, ask the man of the house to come out to the cruiser because there's some emergency--"
"If they're converting cops, what chance have we got?" you gasp.
"There's a limit," he says. "They have to use the book. Assume one conversion an hour, which is pretty damn fast, and they'd still likely be limited to twenty or so conversions a day, max. Cops aren't the right tools for fast production. They'd only be useful for night work, like they probably used to get the Smalls, and maybe your family. So there's probably only one or two cops who have been converted.
"No," he says grimly. "If I were doing it, I'd park the book someplace where there are lots of potential victims, where you can get them one at a time quietly, and the victims can be taken off for processing without anyone asking any awkward questions."
"Oh, Jesus. Perry was talking about using the school last night!"
"Exactly. Blackwell was wrong, Prescott," he says grimly. "It's a really good thing you found me and Joe, and that we left before things got rolling out there."
* * * * *
Frank calls his brother back, and arranges to rendezvous with him and Gordon; fifteen minutes later you find them waiting in the parking lot of a strip center. The mutual debriefing is quick, and there is a quick consultation on how to proceed. It is clear that the disguises as Perry and Justin and Maize have been blown. There's only one unchecked lead: Joe--who is still wearing Perry's mask--puts in a quick call to Traci Small, who is also a student at Schuyler, and gets no answer. "She'll just be another statue someplace out there," Prescott says grimly.
Gordon's phone tweets, and he gets a pained look. "That's Chelsea," he says. "She's been calling for the last hour, but I haven't been answering."
"I didn't let him," Perry explains. "We had a job to do." He gives Gordon a careful, sidelong look. "But if the golems have gone for the families, they'll be going for the friends next. If they haven't caught her, we should sweep her up, keep her safe. If they have--" He hesitates as Gordon's jaw clenches. "Well, it would be a lead."
The phone has gone silent by now, but Prescott gives Gordon a brief word, and he calls her back. The conversation is mostly one-sided, with Gordon just grunting that he's "skipping" and "put the phone down someplace." And then his face turns a peculiar color. "Yeah, I'd come back up for that," he murmurs. You the others exchange a glance.
"She wants to hook up with me in the gym loft," he says after he's hung up. "She's feeling affectionate."
"You can't afford to be sentimental, Black," Prescott says.
Gordon gives him a hard look. "I'm feeling sick." He looks away.
"Alright," says Prescott. "We'll all go back with you. We'll keep these faces on. If she's still herself, it won't look too odd. And if she's baiting a trap, she'll be happy to see us--" He indicates you and Perry and himself-- "show up too."
Your quartet separates again, and you join your twin in your truck. "Last night, when we caught up to Perry, he said something about using the loft as the place to make the changes," you say. "There's a pretty good chance they've got the book up there, right?" You're feeling pretty certain you'll be walking into a trap.
"We can hope. That's the key to stopping it. If we can get the Libra back, then they just become a lot of fakes. I suppose they could still do some damage, just out of a spite, but we'll be able to hunt them down and roll them up."
"Maybe there will be a spell that reverses what they did to these people?"
"Like I say, we can hope. But do you mind shutting up? Joe can talk, flirt, text, compose poetry, and solve quadratic equations simultaneously, but I have to concentrate when I'm thinking."
* * * * *
Lunchtime is well and truly over as you pull into the school. You risk interrupting Frank's train of thought as you dismount from your truck: "Don't think I'm scared to go up there, but do you need me along? Maybe I should keep watch down here?"
"There's no danger up there," he says. "It's just Chelsea, and even if there's more golems, me and Joe can handle them easy. I'd rather not leave you alone, either." He pauses, then shrugs. "Still, maybe it's a good idea to have a lookout. I'll leave it up to you." So saying, he trudges off to join Gordon and Perry.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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