F Paul Wilson - Sims 04 (10 page)

 
          
“What
sort of things?”

 
          
“Painful things.
Things that will hurt me
personally, and devastate other, more innocent, parties.
Things that no
one will want to hear. And don’t think you’ll come through unscathed, either.”

 
          
Zero
swallowed. “What do you mean?” He couldn’t suppress a mocking tone. “Or is it
‘too sensitive’ again?”

 
          
Ellis
looked away and shook his head. “Some of it is sensitive. And some of it
is…unspeakable.”

 
          
The
last word lingered in the air between them. Zero’s mouth felt dry, his tongue
like old leather. He couldn’t bear the thought of one of the most decent, moral
men he had ever known connected to something unspeakable.

 
          
What
had Ellis got
himself
into?

 
          
“So,”
Ellis said finally. “Do we understand each other? Will you concentrate on
finding
Meerm
and back away from
Manassas
?”

 
          
Shaking
his head was the hardest thing Zero had ever done in his life.

 
          
How
could he turn down this man who’d been so good to him? But he didn’t see any
other choice.

 
          
“I
can’t do that. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I could call off
Romy
and Patrick.”

 
          
“Of
course you can. You’re they’re leader.”

 
          
“Causes
take on a life of their own.
Romy
and Patrick are off
and running like hounds who’ve caught a scent. There’s no whistling them back.”

 
          
Ellis
rubbed a hand across his eyes,
then
dragged it down
his face. He looked ten years older than when he’d arrived.

 
          
Zero
said, “But I will do this. I will push the search for
Meerm
as best as I can. If that pans out, then
Manassas
and ‘surge’ will be moot.”

 
          
“I
pray so.”

 
          
Looking
exhausted, Ellis rose slowly from the recliner and shrugged into his coat.

 
          
“Is
there nothing I can say to make you change your mind?”

 
          
“I
wish there were, Ellis. You don’t know how much it hurts me to go against you.”

 
          
“Hurt?
You don’t know hurt, Zero. Keep on this road, and it will come to a very bad
end.
A terrible end.
And you…you may end up the
sorriest of all.”

 
          
Without
another word, Ellis Sinclair opened the door, stepped outside, and walked to
his car, leaving Zero wondering if he’d just made the worst mistake of his
life.

 
          
NEWARK
,
NJ

 
          
DECEMBER
20

 
          
Benny
come and
go
.
Meerm
can’t
stay hide. Too many kick inside when
Meerm
squeeze
into wall.
And must go wee.
Meerm
go wee so
ver
much these day. Leave closet now.

 
          
Feel
stuff on floor.
Look see
white powder.
Meerm
touch taste.
Mmmm
. Sugar.
Why sugar on floor?

 
          
Meerm
not know.
Must go wee now.
Meerm
hurry to bathroom. Do wee.
When
Meerm
finish she flush.

 
          
No-no-no!
Meerm
forget! Must not flush!
Nev
flush in day when no
sim
round! Benny
hear
!

 
          
Benny
come
now!
Meerm
hurry to
closet. Climb to shelf.
So hard, so
ver
hard climb.
Squeeze into hole.
Squeeze-squeeze-squeeze.

 
          
“I
heard that! Goddamn it I might imagine a creak or a thump, but I know I
ain’t
imaginin
no toilet flush!

 
          
Meerm
squeeze into
hole
, push
board back. Wait and listen.

 
          
“Ay!
Lookit
that! Tracks through my sugar! So I
ain’t
loco! Someone’s up here,
an I
know just where you are, man!”

 
          
Meerm
hear bang-bang-bang on closet door. Jump with every
bang.

 
          
“I
don’t know where you
was
hidin
before, but Benny gotcha now!
Ain’t
no monkey
gonna
outsmart Benny. Benny out smart
you
!
So come on out where I can see you!”

 
          
Meerm
not come out.
Meerm
too
scare.
Meerm
stay.
Benny
nev
find
Meerm
here
behind board.

 
          
Bang-bang-bang again.
“Hey! You hear me? No sense
draggin
this out. It’s over! You tagged!”
Meerm
hear closet door open.
“You—what
the fuck?”
Hear hangers move. “Hey! What’s
goin
on here?”

 
          
Now
Benny start bang closet wall—bang-bang-bang!
Ver
loud to
Meerm
behind board.
Meerm
hold breath and hold ear.
Now Benny
bang
Meerm
board.
No-no-no!
Board move.
Meerm
see light.

 
          
“Ay,
lookit
this shit! Damn me, there’s a space back
there! Ay, that where you are? That where you been
hidin
on Benny? Say
somethin
, will
ya
?
Awright
,
dammit
.
That the way you
wanna
be…”

 
          
Meerm
hear Benny go but
Meerm
stay. Not move. Then hear Benny come back. Hear chair drag across floor. Benny
push
board and big light shine in
Meerm
eye.

 
          
“There
you are, you lazy monkey.
Playin
hooky from the job,
huh?
Wait’ll
I tell the boss. Ay, you’re a plump one,
aintcha
.
Whatcha
been
doin
?
Eatin
all day? You—wait a minute. Wait a
fuckin
minute. You
that
sim
they
lookin
for!
The pregnant one! The five-million-dollar
sim
! Holy
Christ! Holy Christ! You her! An I gotcha!
I gotcha!”

 
          
Light
go way, Benny go way,
then
closet door close.
Meerm
hear bumps against closet door.

 
          
What
Benny
say
?
Meerm
pregnant
sim
.
What pregnant?
Meerm
five-million-dollar
sim
.
What five million?
Meerm
not understand.
Meerm
try
understand
later. Now
Meerm
must
run. Benny
find
Meerm
. Benny
will call mans who hurt.

 
          
Meerm
climb out on closet shelf and drop to floor. Push on
closet door but door not move.
Meerm
push so
ver
hard. Push-push-push, but
door not
move
. Door locked. No-no-no!

 
          
Meerm
trapped.
Meerm
ver
fraid
and
ver
scare.
Meerm
shake inside and out, almost hard as
kick-kick-kick.
Meerm
cry.
Poor,
poor
Meerm
.

 
          
SUSSEX COUNTY
,
NJ

 
          
“Mr.
Portero
,”
Nowicki’s
voice
said through Luca’s office intercom, “I think you’d better take this call.”

 
          
“Who
is it?”

 
          
“Calls
himself
Benny Morales and says he knows you.
Says he’s got the pregnant
sim
.”

 
          
“Sure.
Him and half a million others.”

 
          
Luca
shook his head. How many times had he heard that since the five megabuck reward
hit the news? People were crawling out of the woodwork with crazy stories, some
wishful thinking, others outright lies.
Meerm
, or an
equally pregnant
sim
, had been sighted in
Chicago
,
San Francisco
,
Buenos Aires
,
London
,
Hong
Kong
. The
world was suddenly full of pregnant
sims
.

 
          
“This
Morales
says he met you at the
Newark
crib when you came looking for the pregnant
sim
; says she’s been hiding there right under his
nose all along.”

 
          
Luca
remembered Morales now, a quick, jittery little ferret of a man.
Remembered that damn crib too.
After a weeklong fruitless
vigil, he’d yanked surveillance from the place, figuring if the pregnant
sim
hadn’t returned by then, she wasn’t coming back at all.

 
          
But
if she’d never left the building in the first place…

 
          
“Put
him though.”

 
          
Luca’s
hand darted toward the phone and hovered over the receiver. He let it ring
twice before picking up.

 
          
A
few minutes later, after listening to Morales’s story, Luca hung up and jabbed
the intercom button.
“
Nowicki
.
Get Grimes and
Alessi
. Meet me in the garage. We’re
rolling!”

 
          
This
was it. Morales’s story hung together too well to be anything but the real
thing.

 
          
We’ve
found her!

 
          
Luca
felt as if a magnum of Dom
Perignom
had popped open
inside his chest.

 
          
NEWARK
,
NJ

 
          
The
rain clouds that had been threatening all day opened up just in time to snarl
traffic throughout the metropolitan area. So it was well after dark when Luca
and his men arrived at the crib. Benny Morales met them at the front door.

 
          
“Upstairs!”
he said, leading them up a narrow stairway. “I got her trapped, locked up tight
inna
closet
an
I been
keepin
an eye on it all a time ’
cept
for when I was
watchin
for you at the window so I
know she still in there.”

 
          
Morales
had reminded Luca of a ferret last visit; now he was a ferret on speed. Luca
could understand that. The little man was going to be a multi-millionaire. But
Luca was going to recapture his pride and his credibility, and maybe even his
future, and that was worth more.

 
          
“There
it is,” Morales said, as he led them into a bunk-filled space on the second
floor.

 
          
“Where
are
the rest of your
sims
?”

 
          
“Not
back yet.” He glanced at his watch.
“Maybe half hour.
But look here.” He stepped farther into the room and pointed to a door on the
right.
“She in there.”
He held up an old-fashioned
skeleton key. “I got her locked and blocked. She
ain’t
goin
nowhere
nohow
.”

 
          
Luca
smiled. Morales
wasn’t
kidding. He’d wedged a chair
under the doorknob. Hiding his excitement, he held out his hand and Morales dropped
the key into his palm. He stepped to the door, removed the chair, and poised
the key before the lock.

 
          
“
Meerm
?” he said though the door. “My name is Luca
Portero
. I am from
SimGen
.”

 
          
He
spoke softly, maintaining
a calm
, soothing tone. He
wanted to take this
sim
with the least possible fuss
and muss. Everyone—from the
Sinclairs
all the way to
the top of SIRG—wanted her and her unborn baby alive and well. The better the
condition he delivered her in, the better for him. But if she was going to make
this difficult he’d come prepared. One way or another, Luca intended to leave
here tonight with the world’s only pregnant
sim
.

 
          
“The
company has sent me here to protect you,
Meerm
. We
know you’re not feeling good and we’re here to take you back to where you can
rest and get well. I’m going to open the door now.”

 
          
Luca
slipped the key into the lock and turned it.
As he gripped
the knob…

 
          
“Don’t
worry if you don’t see her right away,” Morales said from a few feet behind
him. “Like I told you, there’s this loose piece of wallboard and—”

 
          
Without
looking back, Luca waved for him to shut the hell up. He turned the knob and
pulled the door open—slowly, so as not to appear the least bit aggressive.

 
          
As
Morales had said, the closet looked empty.
Some old shoes,
some hanging clothes, a hat or two on the shelf.

 
          
“Upper
right,” Morales said in a stage whisper.
“Above the shelf.
See the loose board?”

 
          
Luca
nodded. The remodeling had been done on the cheap, probably not even up to
code. Or maybe the codes had been relaxed because the floor wasn’t designated
for human habitation. Whatever the reason, the framing studs looked to be about
two feet apart and the wallboard carelessly nailed. As a result the whole upper
corner of the inner wall had popped loose, allowing easy access to a dead space
beyond.

 
          
Luca
held back a hand, palm up. “Flashlight,” he said, and one was slapped into it.

 
          
He
dragged the chair into the closet and stepped up on it for a better look. He
pushed back the board and shone the light into the opening. But instead of the
expected pair of frightened brown
sim
eyes staring
back at him, he found an empty space. Cold sweat started in his armpits as he
quickly angled the beam around, revealing knotty studs, the unfinished reverse
sides of wallboard, lots of crumbling brick, but no
sim
.

 
          
No
goddamned
sim
!

 
          
“She’s
not here!” he rasped through his sand-dry throat. “You said she was here! Where
is she?”

 
          
“
Whatchoo
you mean, she not there?” Morales
cried,
a panicky edge to his voice. “She
gotta
be there! I lock her in myself! She can’t be
nowheres
else!”

 
          
Luca
poked his head through the opening. The dead space was deeper than he’d have
thought. It angled back around the rear of the closet, beyond his field of
vision.

 
          
“
Meerm
?” he called, still keeping his voice soft. “
Meerm
, are you there? We’re here to help you.”

 
          
No
reply. Not a rustle of movement, not even a breath.

 
          
Okay,
he thought. She wants to play it that way
,
then the
gloves have to come off.

 
          
He
swiveled and hopped off the chair. Morales
was
waiting
for him right outside the closet door.

 
          
“
Lemme
see that light! I find her for you! I know
she
there!”

 
          
Luca
studied him a moment. He hadn’t been lying about seeing a
sim
in there. He was too upset. Probably he’d had the five million already half
spent in his head and now he saw it slipping away.

 
          
Luca
shoved him aside. “Go find yourself a corner and stay out of the way, little
man. We’re going to do it our way.” He looked at his three men and jerked a
thumb over his shoulder, toward the street below. “She’s hiding in the wall.
Get the tools.”

 
          
They
were back in two minutes with crowbars, axes, and sledgehammers.

 
          
“Hey,
whatchoo
think you
doin
?”
Morales cried, running over.

 
          
Luca
held up a crowbar and glared at him. “You want to be alive to collect your
reward, right? Then stay the hell out of our way.”

 
          
With
that he turned and smashed the curved end of the bar through the wallboard,
gave it a half twist, and yanked back, dislodging one side of the board from
its stud. His men did the same, attacking the closet and the walls around it
with gusto. In five or six minutes they’d stripped this end of the room back to
the underlying brick.

 
          
But still no
sim
.
Luca wanted to
scream. Where could she be? Had Morales lied to him? But there seemed no point
to that.

 
          
Then
he heard
Alessi’s
voice from his left, near the
corner of the room. “Aw, shit, boss. Take a look at this.”

 
          
Luca
hurried over and saw a large hole in the bricks. He grabbed the flashlight and
shined the beam through. More bricks inside. He stuck his head inside and
looked up and down. Cool musty air wafted against his face from below.

 
          
“Looks
like an old airshaft.” His voice echoed off the walls. He pulled back and found
Morales standing a few feet away, his hands rubbing over each other in a
nervous, washing motion. “Where’s it go?”

 
          
Morales
shrugged. “I didn’t even know it was there.
Nobody tell me
nothin
.”

 
          
Okay.
The
sim
had crawled from the dead space behind the
closet into the air shaft. Once in there she had two directions to choose from:
up or down. Considering she was frightened and pregnant, she’d have taken the
easiest and fastest route.

 
          
“Check
out the first floor,” he told his men. “Tear out the wall and see if there’s an
opening down there.” To Morales: “You got a basement here?”

 
          
“Sure.”

 
          
“Show
me.”

 
          
He
followed the little man down two levels. When Morales turned on the basement
lights, Luca saw a piece of plywood and its exposed nails dangling from the
ceiling, smears of blood on the floor, on the wall, and on the sill of the open
window, and he knew in one spirit-crushing instant what had happened.

 
          
The
sim
had eased
herself
down
the shaft and landed on the plywood that had closed the opening. Her weight
knocked the crudely fixed board free and she’d fallen to the floor, cutting
herself on the nails in the process. She’d limped to the window, opened it, and
squeezed through.

 
          
Gone!

 
          
Without
warning—Luca was barely aware of what he was doing—he grabbed Morales and flung
him against the wall. The ferret-man slammed against the concrete and slumped
to the floor, wincing and clutching his shoulder.

 
          
“Aw,
man!” he moaned. “
Whatchoo
do that for?”

 
          
Because
it
feltgood
! Luca wanted to scream. Instead he said,
“Because you had her and you let her slip away!”

 
          
“I
did
everythin
I could!”

 
          
“Not
enough!” Luca sensed his rage peaking toward critical mass. He forced himself
to step back, knowing if he let himself get any closer to the whining little
bastard he’d break his neck. “You had her! You had her and you let her get
away!”

 
          
At
least that was the way it seemed. Luca glanced around. But what if she just
wanted him to think that was what happened? What if—?

 
          
Wait.
What was he thinking? He was dealing with a
sim
. They
didn’t have the brains for misdirection. Still…this one had made a fool of him
once already…

 
          
Just
to be sure, Luca did a quick search of the basement. Not much down here; no
closets or crawl spaces to hide in, just cinderblock walls and solid concrete
floor. Satisfied that she was gone, he closed and locked the open window and
headed for the stairs, leaving Morales behind on the floor.

 
          
He
called his three men together and faced them in the front hallway.

 
          
“All
right,” he said, forcing a calm demeanor, “here’s the situation: She’s gone.
Escaped through the basement window.”

 
          
“Shit!”
Grimes muttered. He was wiry and redheaded, and his Adam’s apple wobbled in his
long neck when he spoke. “We’ll never find her out there in the dark!”

 
          
Luca
wheeled and got in his face. “She’s hurt, she’s bleeding, she’s on foot, she’s
pregnant, and she’s a
sim
! If you can’t track
something like that, you should be working for somebody else!”

 
          
Grimes
backed up. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”