Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland (13 page)

BOOK: Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland
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“You have got to be shitting me,” I say. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as Job,” Kelvin says.

“Is that even a thing?” I ask. “Being serious like Job?”

“If you’re Job,” Kelvin replies, and gets up from his stool. “Now, where is the catheter? Oh, here it is. Time to get to work.” Oh, fuck me. Fuck me!

Chapter Six

 

“You know, as torture sessions go, this really isn’t so bad,” I say to Kelvin after he sets the cup of water aside he’s just given me. There’s been a lot of talking, so my throat is a hair parched. “It’s more like a really shitty and uncomfortable conversation.”

“That’s because you are a talker, Jace,” Kelvin says. “If you weren’t, I’d have removed several of your toes by now and shown them to you.”

“Why show them to me?” I ask. “I think just the removing them would be motivation enough.”

“Because of the paralytic and pain killers in my cocktail,” Kelvin says. “You wouldn’t feel the removal, so showing them to you would be the motivation.”

“You know, you could totally show someone somebody else’s toes if you wanted to,” I suggest. “Never actually cut off your subject’s toes, then later show him his intact feet. That’s when you start cutting. Really bring the fucked up mind fuckery. Talk about motivation.”

“I think you missed your calling, Jace,” Kelvin chuckles. “You would be an excellent interrogation specialist.”

“Nah, I’m more a generalist,” I reply. “I hate specializing in anything. I get bored too easily.”

“Well, I have to say our conversation so far has been anything but boring,” Kelvin says, and picks up a pad of paper. He flips through a couple of pages, then looks me in the eye, all snakey snake and shit. “Okay, so you killed Mondello, and then tried to rebuild Asheville, correct? That’s when your troubles with Camille Thornberg and the Consortium really began, is that it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “But I think those troubles were always there. I mean Vance was sort of in her employ. Or some business partner. I’m not quite sure what was going on with their business relationship, but I know he was connected.”

“True enough,” Kelvin says.

I catch the confidence in his voice.

“Uh, did you know Vance?” I ask.

Kelvin composes himself nicely, but I can tell my question has rattled him. I think he let his guard down for a second, and I caught him in it.

“I haven’t ever heard of the man until you told me about him,” Kelvin replies. “He sounds like he was a small player. I didn’t mix in circles with small players.”

“You don’t now, either,” I say. “You got the direct hook up to God, yo. Ain’t nothin’ small in that, am I right? High five!”

“You can’t lift your hand to high five,” Kelvin says.

“Do it for me, will ya?” I ask. “Humor a torture subject, man.”

Kelvin stares at me for a second, then unstraps my hand and gives me a high five. He lets my arm flop back on the armrest, and straps me down again.

“You are such an interesting person, Jace,” Kelvin says. “I may keep you in here forever just to study that brain of yours. I have seen people deflect before, but you are extraordinary. It’s not just your brain damage that causes you to make light of everything traumatic, I honestly think you are wired this way.”

“Copper and gold, baby,” I smile.

“What?” Kelvin asks, honestly puzzled.

“My wiring,” I say. “It’s copper and gold. I’m filled with precious metals, that’s why everyone keeps me around. I got the pimped out brain.”

“Incredible,” Kelvin says, and flips a couple more pages on his pad. “But I think we need to get back to business. Tell me what you know about Camille Thornberg.”

“Not a lot really,” I say. “She was some rich bitch pre-Z, and is now some rich bitch post-Z.”

“Z,” Kelvin says. “Just Z. Post-Z would mean after the undead have gone away. I don’t think that’s likely to happen anytime soon.”

“I mean, like post-Z-Day,” I respond. “But it’s faster to say post-Z than post-Z-Day. That’s just awkward. And life is too short to worry about awkward phrasing. We are only given so many days on Earth, Reptile Jesus. Or didn’t your big Daddy in the Sky tell you that? Come on, man, if you’re gonna have the Batphone to God then you should use it more often and get the details. Awkward phrasing is out, just like grammar Nazis. The world has no need, man. No need.”

“Yes, well, we’ll agree to disagree,” Kelvin says.

“See! That phrase right there,” I state. “There is no need to say we are agreeing to disagree. There is no need to agree to that. We can just disagree, and leave it as it is. When people disagree about disagreeing, then that’s called a fight, and by that time things are way too far to fix. So, one should always assume that agreement is implied with a disagreement unless it devolves into an honest to goodness throw down. It’s that simple.”

“I don’t believe there is anything simple when it comes to your way of thinking, Jace,” Kelvin says. “So let us get back to the subject of Camille Thornberg. Tell me what you know of he
r
post-
Z
.”

“Everything I know of her is post-Z, and thank you for using my term, because I had never heard of her pre-Z,” I say.

“You had never heard of Camille Thornberg?” Kelvin asks.

“You sound suspicious,” I say. “Why are you suspicious? Why the fuck would I have heard of Camille Thornberg?”

“The Thornbergs were once one of the richest families in this country,” Kelvin answers. “They had power and influence like you couldn’t believe.”

“The Thornbergs,” I laugh. “Wasn’t that a miniseries in the eighties?”

“That was th
e
Thornbird
s
,” Kelvin says. “And stay on topic, please.”

“If I had a nickel for every time someone told me to stay on topic,” I sigh, “I’d have a fuckton of useless nickels. Who needs nickels in the apocalypse? That shit just weighs you down.”

“Like this conversation,” Kelvin mutters. He stands up and starts to pace back and forth. “I won’t bore you with the details of Camille’s influence. I will say that I am not surprised she is the head of the Consortium and already making a push to take over more than just the eastern region. She’s probably gotten her grip on the South and is about to come after the Midwest. That is going to put a damper on my mission.”

“By mission, you mean like the Blues Brothers, right?” I ask. “Your mission from God? Not some secret CIA mission?”

“Who said I worked for the CIA?” Kelvin asks.

“You did,” I reply. “Or I think you did. Didn’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“Huh. Then I must have guessed it,” I say. “Probably all that talk about rendition stations and advanced interrogation techniques. That’s spook talk.”

“Spook talk?” Kelvin laughs. “You are a colorful character, Jace. Let’s move on from Camille. I am getting the feeling you know less than I do about her and her organization.”

“Really? What do you know?” I ask, honestly interested. “Come on. Sharesies!”

“No,” Kelvin states. “This is not a two-way conversation.”

“Is it a three-way?” I ask. “Because I’ve never had one of those. They seem awkward. And a lot of work. Who wants to work like that?”

“Are you talking about conversation or sex?” Kelvin asks.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “My head hurts.”

“Does it?” Kelvin asks, then looks at his watch. “That’s good to know. I meant to ask you to instruct me as to when you started to feel any discomfort, especially in the form of headaches, but you are such a distracting person that I honestly forgot.”

“If I had a nickel for every time someone said-.”

“Please stop,” Kelvin sighs. He picks up the X-ACTO blade and sticks the tip into my arm.

“Ow! Hey, motherfucker! That hurt!” I shout. Then I realize a lot of me hurts, not just my head, or where he poked me. “Looks like it’s time for my medicine.”

“No, Jace, it is not,” Kelvin says. There’s a sadness on his face like I’ve thoroughly disappointed him. “The formula works differently on every subject. Your system has burned through it faster than most. Unfortunately, I can’t give you more without risking serious damage to your nervous system. You could fall into a coma, and end up a vegetable. Or you could have a major seizure and die. Neither of those scenarios helps me.”

“So, it’s just regular torture, then?” I ask. Using then at the end of my question makes me think of Stuart. I really hope he’s okay. And Critter. I hope Critter is okay too.

“They are both fine, I am sure,” Kelvin says. “I have instructed my men to let me know if they are overwhelmed in the pit. I doubt they will be if they have both survived in this world this long. The pit will be uncomfortable, but not insurmountable.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” I respond. “So ... about that normal torture thing?”

Kelvin glances at his cart of shiny, scary tools. “I may have to go that direction, but I would rather not since pain is rarely a true motivator. Fear of loss is what really drives people. And I am fairly confident that I know what you fear to lose.”

I stay quiet. Not even gonna come close to taking that bait.

“Carly Thornberg,” Kelvin says, startling me. “Tell me what you know about her.”

“Who?” I ask, but I can tell my delivery is less than convincing. “Is she related to Camille?”

“There it is,” Kelvin says as he pushes the cart of tools over to the wall. He walks back to me with a particularly nasty looking pair of metal snips. “There is the defiance and deception I have been waiting for. You have been incredibly honest with me all night, almost a little too honest, if I may be honest as well. But now you have told me your very first bald-faced lie. Good. That means progress might actually be achieved.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I reply.

Kelvin sits down next to me and makes sure the metal snips are the center of my attention. “These can cut through sixteenth inch sheet metal without a problem. Can you guess what they can do to flesh and bone? While you ponder that question, let me be more specific. You see, Jace, I can use these to cut off all kinds of body parts. Fingers, toes, ears, of course. Those are extremities and easily accessible. But, a true artist, uses these for other body parts. The tongue, love handles on those that have them, breasts. Ah, breasts. Young, supple, vulnerable breasts.”

“You motherfucking asshole,” I growl. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, I have been thinking about nothing else since I dragged you into this room,” Kelvin says. “It took us a while, but we are finally where I thought we’d end up. Now, tell me about Carly Thornberg, or whatever you call her.”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

Kelvin taps me right between the eyes with the metal snips. “What do you call her, Jace? I won’t ask again. Tell me the name she goes by, or your beautiful little girl loses her left breast in the morning. She will be stripped naked and made to stand for everyone in the compound to see. Then Maury will take these very same snips and slowly, carefully, agonizingly, cut off her breast. How old is she? Have her breasts even finished growing and forming yet? How sad for a girl to be mutilated like that before she even reaches womanhood.”

I turn my head and puke. It’s only bile and water, so it doesn’t make much of a mess, but the act itself is quite the statement as to my mental state.

Kelvin stares at me, I stare at Kelvin. He gives the metal snips a quick squeeze and they pop open to show me just how sharp the blades are.

“Elsbeth,” I say. “She goes by Elsbeth.”

“Elsbeth? Really? Why is that?” Kelvin asks. “Is it because of Foster? Did that woman name her that?”

A cold chill runs up and down my spine, and I shudder suddenly.

“I can see you’ve met the woman,” Kelvin laughs. “Did she give Carly her new name?”

“No,” I say. “Some cannibal molester did. His name was Pa, and he brainwashed El into becoming like him. They hunted a whole bunch of survivors before I stumbled across them.”

“Yet you survived,” Kelvin nods. “You left that out of your earlier narrative. In fact, you left out Elsbeth altogether. I am guessing she had a lot more to do with your successes than you did. Any reason you didn’t mention her?”

“I’m holding out for a hero?” I say. “Holding out for a hero that is larger than life?”

He presses the tip of the snips to my right eye. “Funny. But answer the question. I have no problem mutilating you, then mutilating your daughter. Oh, and did I forget to mention that I’d brand her a sinner, and that I would declare her presence to be an affront to God? Do you know what happens to pretty, teenage girls that are branded as such? All bets are off. My followers can do what they want with her without worrying about it being a sin. In their eyes, and in the eyes of God, she will deserve every moment of her humiliation and defilement.”

“I was being serious,” I say. “Elsbeth has an uncanny way of pulling my ass out of the fire. I didn’t mention her because there is a distinct chance that she’ll track me down and save me. Along with my daughter, Stuart, and Critter.”

“And Rafe? Will he be saved as well?” Kelvin smiles. “Or is he the sacrifice in this chapter of your life? I have a sneaking suspicion that there are quite a few sacrifices along the path you have walked, Jace. Not that I see that as a bad thing. God asks for sacrifices all the time.”

“You got that right, brother,” I nod. “That God is all about his sacrifices. Sacrifice this and sacrifice that. In fact, I think what he really wants, more than anything in the world, is for you to take those metal snips and shove them as far up your nose as you can. Now that would be some sacrifice, am I right?”

BOOK: Z-Burbia 5: The Bleeding Heartland
2.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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