Page 63
“‘Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’
‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’ said the Cat.
‘I don’t much care where—’ said Alice.
‘Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,’ said the Cat.
‘—so long as I get somewhere,’ Alice added as an explanation.
‘Oh, you’re sure to do that,’ said the Cat, ‘if you only walk long enough.’”
- Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
By the time Mull arrived back at Oz’s house, her absence had already been noted. Which wasn’t really something she wanted to deal with right now.
As soon as she walked in, Holly glanced up and frowned at her. “Oz said you’re not supposed to leave without one of us going with you.” She reminded her. “He was quite adamant about that.”
Natalie rolled her eyes, putting her coat back on the hook. “I have a job, Holl.” She retorted. “The store has a $14,000,000 Thanksgiving parade in a few days, and Mr. Martinez needs all hands on deck.”
“Are they paying you extra for that?”
Natalie shook her head. “No, it’s a volunteer thing.”
Holly snorted at that idea.
“I’ve spent all morning talking to the administrators of the Horizons Academy, coordinating with them so all of their empowered students can march in the parade.
And dealing with the musical acts, which is a whole other set of problems. As it turns out, The Lusty Carnies had a scheduling conflict, and the only group I can get is Half- Priced Sex Acts , but then I have an issue with the TV networks not using the name.
And, ironically enough, their price is double that of The Lusty Carnies . ”
“It’s all pre-recorded anyway,” Traitor reminded them, “just use the audio from the real group and hire some random people to pretend to be the singers. Hell, I’ll do it. No one will know the difference. Trust me.”
Natalie ignored Traitor’s suggestion, because as usual, it was preaching the benefits of weaving an elaborate tapestry of lies. “I’m wondering if that bitch from the Adventure Academy films wants to try her hand at singing instead…” She tapped her finger against her bottom lip, thinking.
Holly made a humoring sound. “Obviously an issue worth you dying over.”
Natalie made a face. “I refuse to lose my job at the store because of Oz’s paranoia.”
“How is he being paranoid?” Holly squinted in confusion. “You’ve almost died like… three times this week. So far.”
“They tried to kill you too,” Natalie rolled her eyes again, “but he doesn’t demand that you have a bodyguard.”
“They only tried to kill me because I was standing next to you. And he doesn’t care if I live or die, because he’s not trying to screw me .”
The phrasing got Traitor’s attention, and his head whipped around to watch the goings-on. “Wait, what? Who’s screwing Holly?”
“No one.” Nat rolled her eyes for the third time in as many minutes, wondering if that was somehow one of her powers today.
“Unfortunately.” Holly added, heaving a dramatic sigh. “In any event, he got home half an hour ago, then went out looking for you again.”
“Where else would I possibly go?” Nat wondered aloud.
“I have a job, an apartment, and almost all of my friends are in the room right now.” She flopped down into one of Oz’s stiff, ultra-modern looking armchairs, wishing the man didn’t have crazy issues with fabrics and comfort.
It was like sitting on a park bench, but one covered in sandpaper.
She glanced over at the man sitting next to her.
Apparently, Oz had gotten so concerned about her disappearance that he’d called in one of the Consortium’s strongest and most invulnerable members, Hazard Granger.
Hazard was over seven feet of muscle and apathy, tied around the finger of his petite and perky wife.
“Hey Hazz.” She greeted him friendlily. “So you got drafted into this too, huh?”
The man nodded. “Uh-huh.” He continued flipping through what appeared to be a back issue of Nintendo Power from the 1990s, obviously doing homework for future conversations with his wife.
Hazard studied his wife’s interests the way other men might study for the Bar exam.
Keeping her happy with him was his one all-consuming passion and it typically filled his entire day.
“Where’s Stacy?”
“My wife is visiting her nemesis in prison at the moment.” Hazard replied, not looking up from his magazine, which featured a cover story on a then new Metroid video game.
“Ah, that’s nice.”
“Why?” Traitor asked, confused by the idea.
“To gloat, look at pictures of our wedding, and discuss the new Star Wars movie.” Hazz turned the page. “It’s a complicated relationship.”
“And you didn’t go?”
“She made me promise to stay here and watch out for you this afternoon, because you almost died the other day and that was ‘such a bummer’ and she doesn’t want it to happen again.
” Hazz reported, nonchalantly. “And that Bekki is ‘the kind of evil my gentle soul needs to be protected from,’ so Stacy wanted to go alone and made me promise not to follow her, ‘for my own sake.’” Hazz unfolded a map of a game level, studying it the way someone lost in the woods would look at his only lifeline to rescue.
“Which means it’s just her… and Kass, obviously. ”
Before Natalie could reply to that, the bell rang.
Traitor jumped to his feet, looking down at his watch. “Dammit.” He raced to the door and leaned against the jamb. “Who is it?”
“Take one goddamn guess.” Poacher’s voice answered gruffly.
Traitor made a face and opened the door for him.
Sydney stumbled in, an unconscious man slung over his shoulder. “Relax, I got the bastard! ” He announced with no small amount of pride. “He was lurking around and then put up a fight when I confronted him, but I fucked him up and good .”
Mull stared at the unconscious man in question. “That’s the doorman.”
“The Doorman!” Poacher repeated in an “A-HA!” kind of way, like it was a criminal moniker of insidious renown and cracked the whole mystery. “What can he do? ”
“Open doors for people?” She looked up at Syd. “You just beat up a perfectly innocent guy.”
“Oh, bullshit!” He pointed at the man. “Why is he in costume then!?!”
“That’s a uniform.” She corrected. “A doorman’s uniform which he wears. For his job. As a doorman.”
He let out a long sigh and dropped the man to the ground like a ton of bricks. “Well, shit. Wyatt’s going to be pissed.”
“Meh. Just douse the guy in whiskey and dump him in the alley. Everyone will assume he’s a drunk and imagining things.” Holly suggested. “That’s what I always do.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Or don’t.” She continued, quickly covering. “Because that would be wrong.” She returned to her book. “…Obviously.”
Poacher nodded, subtly shifting his feet so that he was closer to the door.
“I’m fanatically against lying to the public, because Harlot always freaks out about it, but I think what the…
” He bolted from the room without finishing the thought, fleeing the situation and the unconscious man, like the coward he was.
Mull let out a sigh.
How typical.
She frowned down at Oz’s doorman, wondering exactly what she should do about this.
She wasn’t really used to there being consequences for actions.
Usually, she would have been first in line to laugh her ass off over the fact that Poacher had beat this guy up.
But this wasn’t just some random doorman.
This was Oz’s doorman! That connection to Oz made this guy important. Well, kind of important , anyway .
She bent down to check the man’s pulse.
The bell rang again.
Traitor jumped to his feet, looking at his watch.
“Dammit.” He raced to the door, glancing down at her on his way.
“If you’re looking for his wallet, I think Syd already stole it.
” He informed her sadly, obviously disappointed that he had missed that windfall.
Then he arrived next to the door and leaned against the jamb. “Who is it?”
“Pizza, sir.” The man on the other side informed him. “Somebody order three pies?”
Traitor was silent for a long moment. “Pizza?” He asked again, like he’d never heard the word before.
“Yeah,” the delivery guy responded, “from Tony’s?”
“Do I know a ‘Tony’?” Traitor wondered aloud. “The name doesn’t ring a bell. ”
“It’s the name of the restaurant, sir.” The delivery guy was clearly getting irritated now. “Listen, do you want them or not?”
Traitor looked down at his watch again. “Yeah… I… think… I… ordered… those…”
“ Today , sir!” The delivery guy’s temper snapped. “I have other deliveries to make!”
“In a minute…” Traitor stalled, then opened the door with a friendly smile on his face. “Thanks so much! I’m starved!”
The man on the other side of the door pulled out the receipt. “That’ll be $61.38.”
Traitor took on a disappointed face. “Oh, I’m afraid you didn’t quite make it here within your thirty minute guarantee.
” He held up his watch to show the man.
“One minute late.” He shrugged helplessly, like it was beyond his control and wasn’t the result of making the man wait on the other side of the door.
He grabbed the pizzas. “Happy Thanksgiving, though!” He slammed the door and turned around. “Pizza is here! You guys owe me $60.”
Natalie watched as the little slices of grease and cheese were handed out, trying not to cringe at the thought of anything staining Oz’s immaculate apartment.
“Do we not have plates?” She asked the room, hurrying off to Oz’s kitchen to grab them.
She threw open several cupboards to find that…
no. No, they didn’t. They appeared to have one set of dishes and silverware, along with a dishwasher that looked powerful enough to sanitize surgical instruments.
She quickly improvised, grabbing some apparently sterile paper towels and passing them out to the assembly, hoping to head off the worst of the stains and spills.
Table of Contents
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- Page 63 (Reading here)
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