“Welcome to the Mountain of the Scabs, where the meat is plentiful and so are the teeth.”
Dice couldn’t hold back a chuckle, even though his insides were doing flipflops. He figured guilt was the source of the queasiness. “At least this will keep Craven off our backs for a while.”
“How many payments did we miss?”
“Only one that I know about. There could have been others before I was read in as second.”
“Well, that was to be expected with the Frost situation and all.”
“Still, Craven’s not a man you want on your bad side, if you know what I mean.”
Sketch nodded, pausing for a few beats. “How much meat do you think they take with them? You know, after the initial feeding.”
“I really don’t want to go up there and find out, do you?”
Sketch held for a moment, then shook his head. “Just making conversation, that’s all. What about all the gear and ammo? We just going to leave it up there?”
“That’s interest on the debt. Craven demanded some vig for his trouble.”
“I guess that’s a small price to pay.”
“At least he didn’t want more fuel. That we couldn’t spare.”
“Any trouble?” Krista asked Wicks, who was still at his post in the brig, keeping watch on the prisoners.
“None,” he said, his shoulders square to the wall behind him.
Krista ran a quick visual check of the prisoners.
Horton and the Scab Girl were in the cell on the left, with the girl sitting cross-legged on the floor. Horton was a few feet away, standing adjacent to the cell door, his fingers wrapped around a pair of vertical bars.
Doc Lipton was on the cot in the other cell, lounging on his right side with his back to the door.
Krista brought her eyes back to Wicks, straining her neck to make eye contact with the man. “Why don’t you go get chow? I need to have a chat with our new friends.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wicks said, turning and marching out the door.
Krista walked to Lipton’s cell. “Hey, asshat, you sleeping?”
“Yes, I am,” Lipton said, holding up his left hand and flipping her the bird without looking.
“That’s what I thought,” she replied. “I need to talk to you.”
“Go away. I’m asleep, remember?”
The Scab Girl was now on her feet and standing next to Horton in the adjacent cell.
“Look, I’m not going to ask again. Get up before I drag your sorry ass out of that bed. We have important business to discuss.”
Lipton rolled onto his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
Krista held up the rainbow-colored notebook belonging to Morse, tapping the binder on the bars. “There’s something I need you to help me with.”
“Let me guess. You found an old cereal box and you can’t figure out how to open it.”
Krista shook her head. “You might want to check the attitude, mister. Otherwise, you’ll never get out of that cell.”
“Who are you kidding? I’m in here for the duration.”
“If you help us with this journal, that won’t always be the case.”
Lipton turned his head toward Krista. “What kind of journal?”
“One you might have written, if you worked for us instead of Frost.”
Lipton sat up, swinging his feet around and planting them on the floor. “I’m intrigued. Go on.”
“Our version of you died and left this notebook behind.”
“Handwritten?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what do you know? At least one of you can write.”
Krista ignored his condescending babble. “We need to know what it all means.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“One hour of exercise on the surface. Some fresh air might do you good.”
Lipton shook his head. “Me? Fresh air? Exercise? I think not. You need to sweeten the deal, if you want my help—with anything.” He pointed to his head. “What’s in here ain’t free.”
“You’re really not in a position to negotiate.”
“Actually, I am. You obviously need what only I possess. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here begging for it, with hat in hand like some kind of street vagrant.”
Krista held her temper in check, though every word out of his mouth demanded a beatdown. “This isn’t begging, pal. I’m only here as a courtesy. The boss told me to make a one-time offer, so here I am.”
“Then run along and go tell that little squirrel you failed. I’m not interested.”
Horton laughed from behind the bars. “Now you know what all of us have been putting up with for years.”
“I can’t believe Frost ever did,” Krista replied.
“He didn’t have a choice,” Lipton said, looking sure of himself. He stood up, putting his arms out to the side as if he were preparing to give a speech to the United Nations, back when that organization still existed. “Frost knew, just as you do now, that knowledge rules the world. To that end, I say to all you peasants, step before the king and shower him with gifts.”
Horton shook his head, laughing again, this time even harder.
Krista rolled her eyes at Horton, then brought them back to Lipton. “Trust me, you’re no king.”
“Au contraire, mon ami.”
Krista paused, soaking in the arrogance standing before her. She needed to change tactics, otherwise she would be forced to either unlock the cell door and beat him senseless or walk away empty-handed. Neither result was acceptable. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s it going to take?”
Lipton didn’t hesitate, firing back in a millisecond. “Freedom to move about this complex, as I so choose.”
Krista replied just as quickly. “Never going to happen.”
“Then I guess we’re done here.”
“Yes, we are,” Krista said, turning for the door. Before she could finish the first step, Summer walked in.
“How’s it going?” the new leader asked.
Krista stopped in her tracks, holding the notebook up, then shooting a glance back at Lipton. “Dingle fuck over there thinks he’s the new king.”
“What?”
Lipton stepped to the bars, wrapping his fingers around them just as Horton had done. “Ah, the little squirrel returns. Maybe now we can negotiate in earnest.”
Summer shot Krista a raised eyebrow. “What is he talking about?”
“He thinks if he helps us, he’s getting released.”
Summer walked to his cell. “Nice try, Lipton. But we’re not that stupid.”
“Oh, the minds of the ignorant. They shall forever live in a world of denial.”
Krista continued, “I asked him what he wanted and he just spouted some bullshit about the peasants showering him with gifts.”
“Sounds like isolation disease is starting to creep in,” Summer quipped.
“Though technically, none of us are isolated,” Horton said.
Lipton chuckled before he spoke to Summer again. “It’s a metaphor, darling. Try to keep up.”
Summer took the notebook from Krista and held it in front of Lipton. “Just tell us what this means. Otherwise, I’ll have Wicks back here in two shakes and he’ll drag you outside and tie you naked to a rock. Let’s see if the overnight temperature drop teaches you who’s really in charge here.”
Lipton’s smug expression never changed. “Then you’ll never know what secrets the journal holds.”
“So be it. We don’t know now. I really couldn’t care less at this point. Either help us or not. Your choice.”
“There needs to be adequate compensation, my little squirrel. Like I told Ms. All Balls over there, my wisdom is not free.”
Summer took a moment, then said, “I’ll tell you what, Lipton. If you help us, I’ll authorize one hour a day of roaming privileges, but under guard of course. Take it or leave it.”
Lipton held out his hand. “What if the notes only contain a failed recipe for some version of soy-based cupcakes?”