Chapter Forty
Forty
“Does it bother you that you’re starting to sound like your artwork, Grant? Like a cartoon?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Grant ordered.
“When it comes to art, everyone’s a critic, right?” Luke said. “I saw your Succubus last night. It was derivative, garish, uninspired, and poorly executed. In short, a cartoon.”
“You stupid bastard, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grant snarled. “You think you’re a critic? Well, you’re a dead critic.”
The strobe lights became more intense. They were beyond dazzling and disorienting. Luke knew that he was going under, struggling to breathe. He had to stop standing here like a target in a shooting gallery.
He could not fight the strobe. The energy of the flashing, mind-numbing lights was weakening all of his senses. His balance was off. He tried to reach inside his jacket but the leather got in his way. He flattened a hand against the nearest wall to keep himself upright.
According to the Boss, talking was a CEO’s only real power. Leadership 101. You’ve got to sound like you know what you’re doing. Otherwise everyone panics.
“That’s a Kaleidoscope weapon, isn’t it?” he managed. “I’m impressed that you were able to steal it from the Wells vault. That couldn’t have been easy.”
“Not my job. I’m a shooter, not a thief.”
“Did you murder the man in the Mirror Lake cabin and leave the body on the side of the road?”
“That was Orston,” Grant said. “He and Taylor went to Mirror Lake to get info on your uncle. But something happened. Orston said Taylor went mad and had to be taken out. Between you and me, Orston is on the way out, too. He can’t handle the guns. He’s not strong enough.”
“Who told you that you were capable of firing the weapon?”
“The Alchemist. He’s pretty smart, but he’s no genius like my brother. Trent says that when the project is completed he and I will be the only ones standing.”
In spite of the blinding light, a connection appeared between two more dots. Luke tried to take a step forward. He stumbled and almost went down.
“Hatch is your brother?” he managed.
“Half brother. Different fathers. Same mother. We’re both fucking strong talents. Just different.”
“What’s your talent?”
“The Alchemist needs me to fire the light guns and keep the mood enhancers running. They don’t last long.”
“You screwed up the mood enhancer in the honeymoon suite, didn’t you?”
“There’s something wrong with the crystal in that setup,” Grant shot back, voice rising. “It’s dead. The enhancers don’t work without a tuned crystal.”
“Why not replace it?”
“It’s not like those crystals are just lying around on the ground waiting to be picked up. You have to grow them in a lab. The Alchemist says it takes time, special chemicals, and the right seed crystal.”
“The Alchemist grew the crystals that are broadcasting his hypnotic suggestions?”
“Nah. He found them in the old lab. He’s got the formula but he hasn’t been able to grow his own yet.”
“How do the mood enhancers work?”
“Shut the fuck up. The only thing you need to worry about is this light gun. You’re going to go mad for a couple of minutes and then you’re going to be dead. This will be fun. I brought my camera so I can take photos. Don’t worry, I’ll show them to the succubus later.”
The power level of the strobe got more intense. Once again Luke tried to reach inside his jacket; again he failed. But in that moment it dawned on him that he was not the only one who made a perfect target. Like a flashlight, the strobes of paranormal energy marked the spot where Grant stood.
“Nothing to lose,” Luke said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Luke mustered everything he had left and threw himself forward, hoping to stay on his feet long enough to slam into Grant. In the narrow confines of the hallway, he could hardly miss.
It was an awkward, clumsy move but it had his full weight behind it. Sometimes raw power was called for.
Belatedly Grant realized what was happening. He yelped and stumbled backward but he did not go down. Luke heard the weapon thud on the floor. The gun went dark immediately, but he was blinded by the afterimages. He went down hard.
Muffled footsteps echoed in the maze, fading fast. Somewhere in the distance a door opened and closed. A heavy silence settled on the gallery.
After a moment Luke realized that he was sprawled on the floor. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and groped blindly, searching for the weapon.
Blindly.
Luke tried to open his eyes and discovered they were already open. He pulled hard on his senses, but the dark-violet floors and walls did not reappear. He wondered if he had lost his regular vision, too.
“Shit.”
He was trapped in the jet-black maze.