Adam ran at him—
And a cluster of rubbery limbs ensnared him, dragging him back into the shelves. He felt at least three arms tightening around his throat. He tried to swing the scythe backwards — the blade struck a wall and was pulled off his arm.
NO!
A smothering weight forced him into the wall. Struggling to free himself, Adam got his first glimpse at his assailant — a four-armed man with gaping, fish-like jaws.
The Geek’s arms were malformed, underdeveloped, but still strong enough to hold onto his prey. The elasticity of his flesh meant there was no slipping free. He had Adam wrapped up in his limbs and was gnawing at his face.
Adam forced his hand up through the tangle of arms and drove his fingers into the Geek’s eyes. The rotter snapped at him, thrashing his head about, but Adam pushed harder and sunk his fingertips into the sockets of the undead’s skull. Now he was the one with a handhold.
The Strongman could be heard heaving shelves aside. He was coming.
The Geek released Adam and pawed at his eyes with all four hands. Adam kicked the rotter into the Strongman’s path and ran for the back of the store. He hit a door, plowed right through it, and was outside again. The cold slapped his shredded face.
The scythe was still inside! He didn’t stand a chance without it. Before he could think of what to do, he heard footfalls, dozens of them — runners. They were coming around the building.
It was true. The King of the Dead and his traveling circus were real. As Adam fled down the back street, the image of the Fire Juggler flashed through his mind. Drawing the dead in with those spinning torches…
The circus was recruiting.
Something barreled into his legs and he went sprawling. It was a dwarf, with a pinched rotten face and spurs of bone, like horns, growing from its skull.
Adam scrambled down an alley and back toward the main thoroughfare. If he could just make it to that store!
A literal human pincushion staggered across the street toward him, skewers of all lengths stuck through its body. The metal rattled loudly as the thing came at him. From the sidewalk approached a stiff-legged, cadaverous giant, not as wide as the Strongman but taller. Yawning wounds in his flesh had been filled entirely with bone tissue, and outgrowths of bone threaded through the rotter’s limbs and ribs, weaving in and out of gray flesh. The aberrant skeletal growth made the Petrified Man look as if he were armored.
Transfixed with horror, Adam almost didn’t see the Geek pushing through the dead in the street. The locals were mesmerized by the Juggler; only these sideshow curiosities were pursuing him. They behaved more like animals than rotters. They must have developed a pack mentality, complete with hierarchy… which meant the King himself was nearby.
And he was.
As Adam ran away from the rotters, further into town and away from his scythe — he saw Eviscerato standing alone in the road, cane twirling in his bony hands.
Leaping into Adam’s path, he sent the cane crashing into his knee. Adam tried to stay upright and keep running but the rotter jumped onto his back, and then Adam was on his knees and the cane was choking him. There was no risk of suffocation for Adam — but there was the risk of his head being torn off.
Eviscerato bit into Adam’s scalp. Adam grabbed the cane and tried to force it away, but Eviscerato was too strong! The world began to go dark again.
He went limp. The very last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the Fire Juggler’s approach, and the last thing he felt was searing heat.
Sixteen / Seeds of Fear
Casey brought everyone into the squad room early the next morning. There were a few P.Os Voorhees had never seen before; but then he was barely acquainted with his own partner.
“Senator Manning is going to be giving a public address at the amphitheater in about two hours,” Casey told them. “Something about plans for a new hospital. We’ll be doing security. This shouldn’t pull you away from your regular beat for too long.”
Emily Halstead rolled her eyes at Voorhees. Casey caught it. “This might not seem like much of a priority to some of you, but it’s the job. Orders are from Gillies himself. Your streets can wait.”
Under Finn Meyer’s watchful eye, Voorhees thought.
He hadn’t told anyone about his lakefront exchange with Meyer and Pat Morgan. Probably wouldn’t have done him a damn bit of good.
He glanced Halstead’s way. Maybe he’d tell her about it. She seemed to have her head on straight.
He and Blake were assigned to stand out on the stage where Manning would speak. They’d be surrounded on three sides by Gaylen’s citizens. Their primary responsibility would be to keep people back from the stage. Voorhees hefted his baton in his hand and sighed. It’d be worthless against a shooter, but of course no one in Gaylen owned a firearm.
The other cops would be positioned in the backstage area and throughout the audience. “Guess I won’t be seeing you out there, partner,” Voorhees said to Halstead.
“Let’s grab lunch after this is over. Then we’ll head into the Red.”
“The what?”
“Lake district. It’s red on the city map. Keep up, Voorhees.”
He smiled at that.
Backstage at the amphitheater, Georgia Manning looked over her notes, memorizing the lies, affirming them in her mind so that they’d come out of her mouth as gospel truth. She told herself it was necessary; the airfield had to be completed.
And why should you feel bad for lying to these people? You’ll be leaving them behind, won’t you?
She had tried not to think about that. She had hoped not to acknowledge the great betrayal until it was over and done with. Gillies had forced her into this damn speech. Why couldn’t he have taken care of this? He was the sociopath who loved playing man of the people. This was his grand plan—
And you’ve gone along with it like an obedient dog.
She closed her eyes, swallowed the doubt and the shame, and composed herself for her public appearance.
Something sharp stuck her in the back. She turned with a loud cry. “What was that?”
“Sorry,” came the reply. Manning rubbed her back with a scowl, then returned to her notes. Jesus, that really hurt. She’d have to find out which of the civvies shuffling around behind her had done it. Might have been on purpose. A thankless lot.
Out on the stage, Voorhees looked over the thin crowd. Maybe a hundred fifty people. He’d anticipated a real security issue when Casey pulled every officer off the street for this.
Manning came out from the backstage area to sparse applause. She moved slowly, hands on her lower back, looking more than a little out of sorts. Voorhees tried to catch her eyes, but she looked right through him.
It hurts. It hurts a lot more than I first thought. Oh God, it hurts…
Senator Manning stepped to the edge of the stage. The crowd quieted down. Voorhees and Blake exchanged concerned glances.
I don’t feel right… everything seems so far away… it’s like I’m not really here.
Manning’s eyes were glazed over and half shut. She let go of her back and slumped forward. She was going to fall. Voorhees moved quickly toward her.
I don’t… I’m not…
It doesn’t hurt anymore…
I don’t hurt anymore.
She fell forward.
Voorhees caught her arm and pulled her back, lying her down on the stage. Blake rushed over, speaking into his radio. “We’ve got a situation out here. The Senator’s down. I repeat—”