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Authors: Glenn Beck

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BOOK: The Eye of Moloch
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She frowned a bit, and the transition from casual conversation to thinly disguised bedside exam was smooth and professional. As she continued he answered her questions and complied with each prompt and instruction, following her moving finger with his eyes, extending his arms and touching his nose, pressing against her outstretched palms with his own when so directed.

“Do you feel any nausea, or dizziness?”

“No, I don’t.”

A young lady arrived with a small wooden tray of fruit, bread, sliced cheese, and a tall glass of water. She handed the food to Cathy Merrick, the two exchanged some quiet words, and then the girl left again the way she’d come.

“Mom thought you’d be hungry,” Cathy said, “but don’t eat too much too fast.” She rearranged some things, slid the tray onto the nightstand within his reach, and then walked over to the window. “You missed lunch already, so some of that can tide you over until dinnertime. Now, are you ready to see some sunshine?”

“I think I am.”

She pulled the heavy outer drapes aside to the edges of a large bay window behind them, then drew the inner curtains by their braided cord. “There you go,” Cathy said. “That’s the best view we’ve got.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll send Tyler by to see you when you’ve had time to take care of your necessities.” She retrieved her basket and started for the door. “He’s my son, and he’ll walk you around the place a bit, just so you can get your legs underneath you again.”

Hollis was so absorbed in the magnificent view of the grounds beyond the window that he managed only a slow, inadequate nod in answer to her question. “Thank you,” he heard himself repeat after a while longer, though when he glanced her way he found she’d already slipped out by then to leave him to his thoughts.

Chapter 10

T
hough his sleep had been troubled, it had served its purpose. After such a lengthy day of rest, in fact, Hollis felt he might never need another.

When the escort Cathy Merrick had offered failed to arrive in due time he decided to venture out on his own.

The hallway was spacious and meticulously rustic, all hardwoods and polish with native art hung here and there and simple Shaker furnishings. An old grandfather clock stood watch in a narrow alcove. Next to the clock was an oil painting of some stern pioneer who’d survived Red Cloud’s War only to be reluctantly captured in canvas and hung up in a gilded frame.

At the far end of the hall the space opened out into a soaring log-framed atrium with several cozy sitting areas, well-stocked bookshelves, and a massive fieldstone fireplace that easily spanned twelve feet from end to end. This all engendered a homespun, welcoming atmosphere that nevertheless carried more the feel of a fine country hotel than a private residence.

He found Molly’s suite near the corner. The door had been left half
open; she was seated at a mirrored vanity near the far wall, facing away, wrapped in a woolly plaid dressing gown. Two older women attended to her, one fixing her hair in a braided ponytail while the other held her hands and finessed a long-neglected manicure. They didn’t notice him as they fussed and smiled and spoke among themselves, and he didn’t interrupt. For the moment he knew all he needed to; she was fine.

When Hollis looked to the atrium again he saw a young man of maybe sixteen years, sitting off alone in the corner of the large space. He was slumped down in a reclining posture, feet up on the burl-oak slab of a coffee table, completely absorbed in the content of an animated screen in his hands. On the assumption that this was the boy assigned to be his guide, he walked over and sat nearby.

“Are you Tyler?”

“Hold on.”

The big-screen cell phone the boy was interacting with was more visible from this distance. He was playing a game, it appeared, dragging and tapping with a finger to slingshot cartoon birds toward a series of breakable structures.

Hollis watched and waited through another similar level or two, and then, seeing no intent in the boy to stop what he was doing, he got up to leave. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he said. “I can show myself around.”

“Jesus, just a second,” the boy huffed. “I’ll be right with you, okay?” He sighed and went through a quick procedure to save his progress and put the device into standby. “She told me to give you the tour, so I’d better give you the tour. I really don’t need my mom any further up my ass today.”

The impulse to apply a swift discipline to another person’s offspring had rarely been stronger, but for a couple of weak reasons Hollis simply took a deep, cleansing breath and put it aside. Despite the boy’s offhanded discourtesy to his absent mother, Hollis was reluctant to spoil his still-sunny mood by calling out the offense. Also, he was a guest, and it might test the bounds of hospitality to start a conversation that could
easily end in a headlock. So he let it pass and only followed as the boy tucked away his phone and walked on ahead.

“If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble for you,” Hollis said.

“Don’t get too excited, bro,” Tyler replied. “There’s not that much to see.”

•   •   •

The most expensive home in America is not in New York, or Honolulu, or Beverly Hills, but in Wyoming. This wasn’t that home, Tyler was quick to note, but the once-humble Merrick ranch was regularly in and out of the top ten whenever such lists were compiled.

As they walked, through a series of one-word answers and bored descriptions from his guide Hollis was gradually able to glean a better understanding of the place and the people who lived there.

The boy’s ancestors had made their substantial fortune in cattle, mineral rights, and various speculations. Since frontier times no part of the estate had ever left the family’s hands. Today the spread was best known as an upscale dude ranch and a twelve-thousand-acre training facility for working horses and their riders. The roster of regular clients included people of all stripes, from reclusive billionaires and celebrities to national rodeo stars. There was also a long waiting list of normal-Joe vacationers who might save up for years in order to flee their teeming cities for a few precious weeks of a saner, simpler life.

These days the lion’s share of any profits quietly went toward charitable endeavors. Throughout the summer the ranch played host to a number of youth retreats from service groups, and no child’s request from the Make-A-Wish Foundation had ever been denied.

The guest annex where Hollis and the other new arrivals were staying was of relatively new construction. On the private side of the atrium the original house had been built around, added to, and augmented with modern conveniences. Most of the growing lineage of the Merrick family made their home in those quarters, and they all made their living off the land. Tyler’s great-grandmother, in fact, still stayed in the rooms
she’d shared with her late husband back when this place was still just a small, hand-built outpost in the heart of a lot of rugged, untamed land.

The ranch was normally closed to guests during the harsh winter season, and without much public explanation it had remained closed well beyond that time this year.

This is where Tyler Merrick’s understanding of the recent goings-on became sketchy and incomplete. Whatever was currently happening, the details were being guarded and shared on a need-to-know basis, and evidently there was a lot he didn’t need to know. Still, he seemed to have a sense that something slightly unlawful might be afoot this week. While that clearly didn’t trouble his morals he seemed very curious as to the clandestine nature of these latest guests.

It turned out that Tyler was new to these surroundings himself. His parents had finally split up after a long separation and sold their house in Albuquerque as the assets were divided. His mother, Cathy, had left her life as a successful graphic artist, moved back to her childhood home, reclaimed her maiden name for them both, and dragged her son along into this socially barren wilderness to start all over again.

While the boy had met these relatives over the years he’d never imagined he’d one day be living with them. Though he didn’t say so, despite any warm welcomes it would be hard for even a well-adjusted teenager in such a spot to feel like anything but an outsider.

The tour concluded at a small wooden pier on the lakefront, and they went to the end and sat down on its edge to rest. Having now walked a bit of the grounds, as far as Hollis could see it was all as picturesque as it had seemed through his window. But more striking than the view itself was how these surroundings made him feel. For the first time in months he found he could look at the horizon with no dread of what might soon be storming over it.

He heard a distracted, private laugh next to him, and Hollis glanced that way and leaned to read what was on the screen. He was so alarmed by what he saw that he nearly knocked the boy into the lake as he
snatched the phone from his hands and canceled the entry before it could be sent.

Tyler’s immediate verbal reaction went quiet in mid-profanity. Even if he didn’t know what he’d almost done, it seemed by the look on his face that he knew he was in trouble.

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m afraid sorry’s just not gonna cut it,” Hollis said. “Your folks told you we were lying low here, didn’t they? And you know what that means, don’t you?”

“I said I was sorry. God, I didn’t mean anything—”

“What you typed was
Showing some hilbilly around the farm. Somebody please shoot me.
” Hollis put the deactivated device into one of his pockets and its battery into another. “First off, you need to be careful what you wish for. Second, there are four
l
’s in
hillbilly.
And third, I imagine the reason your mother is up your backside so often, as you say, is because she damn well needs to be. Every year you get older, the mistakes you can make get bigger, and the consequences get harder to survive.”

Before the boy could speak Hollis held up a hand to quiet him. “I don’t need to hear a thing you’ve got to say right now, but you need to hear this. That phone’s got a microphone and a camera, so it can see and hear whatever’s around it. It can recognize a face, understand words, and match a voiceprint. It’s got an accelerometer, so it knows when you sit, when you stand, and which way you’re walking. It’s got a GPS receiver that tracks where you are within a five-foot circle. And whether you know it or not, you’ve signed over your permission to strangers to monitor and make a record of all those things every minute of the day. Google’s a quarter-of-a-trillion-dollar company but they give away almost every product they make for free. Don’t you know what they’re selling to make all that money? They’re selling
you.

“You wouldn’t trust your best friend with what that phone knows about you, and yet you trust all those strangers lurking out there in the
cloud, who’ve all said time and again that privacy is a relic of the past and a man’s wish for it is a cause for suspicion. If you’re dumb enough to believe that way, then go right on ahead. But you will not imperil me or mine with your foolishness.”

The boy sat silent, and when he worked himself up to speak again his voice was timid. “Are you going to tell my mom?”

“No, I’m not. You’re going to tell her, all about it, and then I’ll be having a talk with both of you after dinner. Now get on back home.”

Hollis turned away to look out across the water.

When the boy had left him alone Hollis stayed and thought and waited, but no trace of the serenity he’d felt just before would be returning. The unsullied vastness of this sovereign land shrank before his eyes, retreating to within its fragile, unprotected borders. This ranch was an island of peace and personal liberty, he’d allowed himself to think, a place of safety, and maybe even a glimmer of hope for a better future. But an island is another thing he’d failed until then to consider.

Surrounded.

Chapter 11

U
pon his return to the main farmhouse Hollis stopped by to ask a favor of the fellow he’d been told was in charge of security and technological matters. Then, without identifying a specific offender, he made it clear that some strict remedial instruction should be given to all residents right away, particularly regarding the safe use of electronic communications during this sensitive time.

BOOK: The Eye of Moloch
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