Peter Clines - Ex-Communication

“He did all of this,” Freedom said. “Your partner is the source of the ex-virus.”

“He is not our partner,” said Stealth.

“I never even met the guy until we set up the Mount,” said Danielle.

“This man is responsible for everything,” hissed the captain. “For the deaths of millions of people.”

“Billions,” said Stealth. “By the last known population numbers and projected estimates, five-point-four-two billion people died in 2009 as a direct result of the ex-virus.”

“My men died!” shouted Freedom. “That man caused the death of dozens of soldiers under my command. You knew this and you said nothing to me about it.”

“Lots of people died, Captain,” said St. George. A cloud of smoke rolled from his mouth as he said it. “Everybody here lost friends and family and loved ones. You think we haven’t all thought about going down there and chopping him up until he stops healing?”

“And why hasn’t anyone?”

“Because we’re the good guys,” St. George told him. “We remind everyone that sometimes you’ve got to do the right thing even when the wrong thing would be a lot easier and make you a lot happier. We’re the ones setting an example so all of this doesn’t turn into a Road Warrior movie. That’s our duty. And yours.”

It was enough. The huge officer calmed himself.

“He was being punished,” said the hero. “We told everyone he went insane and killed himself. He was always so depressed about his wife, no one questioned it. He’d spent the last year and a half in a twelve-foot-square cell. He hadn’t seen daylight that whole time. I was the only person he ever got to talk to. We even stopped feeding him once we realized he doesn’t need to eat. Once there’s some real stability here, we were going to turn him over to the people for a trial.”

“As someone who understands morale issues,” said Stealth, “I am certain you also understand the need to keep all these facts secret until then.”

Freedom’s jaw shifted. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I do.”

“As such,” she said, “our primary concern is not justice but containment. Which means recapturing him must be our highest priority.”

“Problem,” said Danielle. She tapped a finger on the map. “We can’t go after him without crossing Max’s magic symbols.”

“If they are real,” Stealth said.

“That thing outside looked pretty real,” said Barry. “With all the teeth and the fire and the twisting body parts. It was like a John Carpenter movie come to life.”

“It exists,” said Stealth, “but that does not mean it is a demon. Or that it is being held back by magical symbols.” She gestured at the maps. “The exes will follow Regenerator as long as he remains within their range of sight or hearing. If St. George or Zzzap reaches sufficient altitude, they may be able to see a pattern of movement, much like a tide or current. This will give us a general sense of his current location.”

“I’ve got a question for the floor,” said Barry. “Is this really a bad thing?”

Stealth turned to him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Okay, so Josh got out. And he got out of the Mount. Out of our whole complex of New Los Angeles or whatever we’re going to call it.” He shrugged in his wheelchair. “So now it’s him alone against Cairax McBitey and, what, five million exes here in Los Angeles. Six hundred million or something in North America. Not to sound harsh but … well, it sounds like the problem’s dealt with.”

“Or is it?” Danielle pulled her arms tight. “Can they actually kill him?”

“Forgive me for saying so,” said Freedom, “but from what you’ve told me, can anything kill him?”

There was a quiet pause.

“To the best of my knowledge,” said Stealth, “he has never been decapitated.”

“Oh, come on,” said St. George. “Are we going to hunt him down and chop his head off?”

She bowed her head inside her hood. “I was merely offering a possible scenario where his powers would not allow him to regenerate.”

There was a brief lull, and then someone cleared their throat.

Max sat in a chair at the far end of the meeting table. His suit was navy blue with a paisley tie of red and silver. St. George realized he could barely see Jarvis in Max’s face anymore. There was a little something around the eyes, a bit in the cheeks, but for the most part the salt-and-pepper man had vanished.

Another person consumed by the dead.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max said. “I was up all night working out a couple ideas before I lost them. With Cairax being so determined and aggressive I figured I needed to put some serious thought into banishing him.” He swung his feet up onto the table.

Freedom glanced at the door. “How did you …?”

Max twiddled his fingers in the air and smiled.

“He is wearing rubber-soled shoes,” said Stealth, “and the doors have pneumatic hinges.”

“Do you have no sense of wonder in your soul?” Max shook his head. “Good news is, I’ve got it figured out. I’ll need four days of prep and I can get rid of Cairax for good.”

“Really?” said Barry.

“Yep. So, what did I miss here? Anything that’s still relevant?”

“Josh’s escape,” said St. George, “and if we can go after him or not.”

“Anyone crossing the wards before I banish Cairax would be bad,” said Max. “Refresh my memory—who’s Josh?”

Danielle sighed. Stealth stiffened and crossed her arms. “Joshua Garcetti,” she said, “better known as Regenerator.”

“Wait,” said Max, sitting up. “Regenerator’s still alive?”

“Yeah,” said Barry. “You missed the big catch-up.”

“No way? It’s like we’re getting the band back together again. Where’s he been?”

“He was our prisoner,” said Stealth, “until he escaped two and a half hours ago. He is somewhere in Los Angeles beyond the Big Wall.”

“WHAT?”

Max leaped out of his chair so hard it skittered across the floor and hit the far wall. He looked at each of them in turn. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved. He pressed his hands against the tabletop. “Regenerator is out in the city? He’s past the wards?”

St. George nodded and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Does he still have his powers? Just before everything collapsed I heard he’d lost his powers.”

“Still got ’em,” said Danielle.

“He took over a dozen twelve-gauge slugs during his escape,” said Freedom. “They barely slowed him.”

“Oh, Jesus,” muttered Max. He reached back and grabbed the back of his head. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stealth crossed her arms. “Is there a problem?”

Max’s eyes were still huge. “Problem?” he echoed. “Well, everyone in Los Angeles has maybe nine or ten hours left to live. But other than that, yeah, things are just fantastic.”

“ EXPLAIN,” SAID STEALTH.

Max shook his head. “Okay, look, the whole reason Cairax Murrain can’t manifest is because any host needs to meet two major conditions. They have to be alive and they need to be durable enough to survive the process of possession. That’s why it was so important that George didn’t go past the barriers. It could kill anyone, but it could actually possess him.”

“Okay,” said St. George with a nod.

“Well, now there’s a body out there that won’t die. Regenerator can take all that damage and keep going. He’s viable. So the instant he says yes, Cairax is going to start moving in, just like I did. And once he’s got flesh he’s going to march in here and kill every single man, woman, child, and fluffy kitten in the Mount.”