UnDivided
Page 58
Starkey finds he can’t contain his anger. He thrashes, making his broken ribs resonate in pain. He practically dislocates his shoulders trying to pull out of the bonds. “You bitch! You made me say that. You made me make the deal!”
And yet Bam holds her Teflon calm. “No one made you do anything, Mason. We just gave you the rope; you’re the one who hung yourself with it.”
Jeevan laughs at that. “Good one,” he says. “Hung himself.”
“If you ever surface again anywhere,” Bam says, “we’ll play that recording for the storks. Not just our storks, but publicly for every stork out there. You’ll go from being their savior to being seen as the self-serving egomaniac that you are.”
“Self-serving? I did all of this for them! All of it.” Starkey would kill them right now if he could. The traitors! He would execute them without the slightest hesitation. Can’t they see what they’re doing? They’re killing a dream larger than all of them. How can storks ever hope to change their plight in the world without their leader?
He wants to scream with a wordless fury, but knows he must try as best he can to match Bam’s detachment. He forces down his anger and says, “It’s the small minds in this world that destroy everything. Don’t be a small mind, Bam. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”
Bam smiles, and Starkey thinks that maybe she’s finally beginning to see the wisdom of his words. Until she says, “You’re so smooth, Mason. You can slide your way into getting what you want, and then convince everyone around you that it’s what they want too. That was your best magic trick. You made everyone believe you were doing this for them—when it was all for the fame and fortune of Mason Michael Starkey.”
“That’s not true!”
“See how good the illusion is?” Bam says. “Even you believe it.”
Starkey will not entertain this accusation. He cannot doubt himself, because doubt is his enemy. So he’ll let Bam go on with her mindless lecture. Let her think what she wants to think. She’s just jealous that she can never be him, or have him, or be in the same league as him. He is Mason Michael Starkey, the avenger of storks. No matter how hard Bam tries to take that away, the world will reward him for all the good he’s done. He didn’t do it for the fame, but he certainly deserves it.
“I’ll never be a great leader,” Bam tells him. “But knowing that already makes me a better leader than you. I just wish I could have figured that out sooner.”
Starkey is exhausted struggling against his bonds. They’re looser now. He will escape. Not this moment, but soon. Ten minutes, twenty. The question is, will he go after Bam and Jeevan, or will he cave to their blackmail and go into hiding forever?
“You’ve heard our demands, and you know what will happen if you don’t follow them,” Bam says. “On the other hand, if you get with the program, we’ll keep that recording to ourselves. I know how important it is for you to be seen as the hero. You get to keep that. It’s more than you deserve. We’ll tell the storks you were captured while scouting out Mousetail, and that will make you an instant martyr. What could be better?”
Mason has no strength to argue anymore. He feels sick to his stomach, and he knows it’s not just from the tranqs. “Someone’s going to make you pay for this.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be you.” Then she turns to Jeevan, who pulls out a tranq gun—one of the nice ones the clappers provided. Probably the same one they tranq’d him with the first time.
“We can’t take a chance you’ll break free too soon,” Bam tells him. “And once you do free yourself, if you’re tempted to look for us at the power plant, don’t bother. We’ll all be gone from there long before you wake up.”
Jeevan comes close to Starkey, aims, but he doesn’t shoot just yet. Instead he suddenly spits in Starkey’s face. “That’s for all the people who died because of me,” says Jeevan. “The people who died because of the things you made me do!”
Starkey smiles at him, and repeats what Bam said just a few moments ago. “I didn’t make you do anything, Jeevan. I just gave you the rope.”
Jeevan’s response is a tranq blast right into the space between his broken ribs.
29 • Hayden
The waiting is unbearable, but Hayden cannot let it show, or it would arouse suspicion. He wanted to go with Bam and Jeevan—not that he doesn’t trust them, but he knows that Starkey is a difficult force to overcome. He was crafty enough to get this far, mesmerizing hundreds of kids long past the point when they should have done their own reality checks. Who’s to say if he might not Houdini his way out of the trap they’ve set for him?
Hayden still finds it amazing that Starkey managed to carve himself a cult, with few tools beyond communal anger and a fistful of personal magnetism. But on the other hand, there are plenty of historical precedents.
It’s morning in the abandoned plant that’s not so abandoned anymore now that it’s home to almost seven hundred storks. Breakfast is in full swing. The kids eat in three shifts in the plant’s basement, using folding chairs and tables that were here for them when they arrived—as were comfortable bed rolls—all courtesy of the “applause department.” Very organized, this society of randomized violence. They’ve vowed to keep the storks safe, although Hayden suspects they’re only safe until the applause department decides it’s time to sacrifice them, just as they sacrifice all the other angry kids they recruit to serve the cause of mayhem. The storks won’t blow themselves up, of course, but in the end, following Starkey off a cliff isn’t all that different.
And yet Bam holds her Teflon calm. “No one made you do anything, Mason. We just gave you the rope; you’re the one who hung yourself with it.”
Jeevan laughs at that. “Good one,” he says. “Hung himself.”
“If you ever surface again anywhere,” Bam says, “we’ll play that recording for the storks. Not just our storks, but publicly for every stork out there. You’ll go from being their savior to being seen as the self-serving egomaniac that you are.”
“Self-serving? I did all of this for them! All of it.” Starkey would kill them right now if he could. The traitors! He would execute them without the slightest hesitation. Can’t they see what they’re doing? They’re killing a dream larger than all of them. How can storks ever hope to change their plight in the world without their leader?
He wants to scream with a wordless fury, but knows he must try as best he can to match Bam’s detachment. He forces down his anger and says, “It’s the small minds in this world that destroy everything. Don’t be a small mind, Bam. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”
Bam smiles, and Starkey thinks that maybe she’s finally beginning to see the wisdom of his words. Until she says, “You’re so smooth, Mason. You can slide your way into getting what you want, and then convince everyone around you that it’s what they want too. That was your best magic trick. You made everyone believe you were doing this for them—when it was all for the fame and fortune of Mason Michael Starkey.”
“That’s not true!”
“See how good the illusion is?” Bam says. “Even you believe it.”
Starkey will not entertain this accusation. He cannot doubt himself, because doubt is his enemy. So he’ll let Bam go on with her mindless lecture. Let her think what she wants to think. She’s just jealous that she can never be him, or have him, or be in the same league as him. He is Mason Michael Starkey, the avenger of storks. No matter how hard Bam tries to take that away, the world will reward him for all the good he’s done. He didn’t do it for the fame, but he certainly deserves it.
“I’ll never be a great leader,” Bam tells him. “But knowing that already makes me a better leader than you. I just wish I could have figured that out sooner.”
Starkey is exhausted struggling against his bonds. They’re looser now. He will escape. Not this moment, but soon. Ten minutes, twenty. The question is, will he go after Bam and Jeevan, or will he cave to their blackmail and go into hiding forever?
“You’ve heard our demands, and you know what will happen if you don’t follow them,” Bam says. “On the other hand, if you get with the program, we’ll keep that recording to ourselves. I know how important it is for you to be seen as the hero. You get to keep that. It’s more than you deserve. We’ll tell the storks you were captured while scouting out Mousetail, and that will make you an instant martyr. What could be better?”
Mason has no strength to argue anymore. He feels sick to his stomach, and he knows it’s not just from the tranqs. “Someone’s going to make you pay for this.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be you.” Then she turns to Jeevan, who pulls out a tranq gun—one of the nice ones the clappers provided. Probably the same one they tranq’d him with the first time.
“We can’t take a chance you’ll break free too soon,” Bam tells him. “And once you do free yourself, if you’re tempted to look for us at the power plant, don’t bother. We’ll all be gone from there long before you wake up.”
Jeevan comes close to Starkey, aims, but he doesn’t shoot just yet. Instead he suddenly spits in Starkey’s face. “That’s for all the people who died because of me,” says Jeevan. “The people who died because of the things you made me do!”
Starkey smiles at him, and repeats what Bam said just a few moments ago. “I didn’t make you do anything, Jeevan. I just gave you the rope.”
Jeevan’s response is a tranq blast right into the space between his broken ribs.
29 • Hayden
The waiting is unbearable, but Hayden cannot let it show, or it would arouse suspicion. He wanted to go with Bam and Jeevan—not that he doesn’t trust them, but he knows that Starkey is a difficult force to overcome. He was crafty enough to get this far, mesmerizing hundreds of kids long past the point when they should have done their own reality checks. Who’s to say if he might not Houdini his way out of the trap they’ve set for him?
Hayden still finds it amazing that Starkey managed to carve himself a cult, with few tools beyond communal anger and a fistful of personal magnetism. But on the other hand, there are plenty of historical precedents.
It’s morning in the abandoned plant that’s not so abandoned anymore now that it’s home to almost seven hundred storks. Breakfast is in full swing. The kids eat in three shifts in the plant’s basement, using folding chairs and tables that were here for them when they arrived—as were comfortable bed rolls—all courtesy of the “applause department.” Very organized, this society of randomized violence. They’ve vowed to keep the storks safe, although Hayden suspects they’re only safe until the applause department decides it’s time to sacrifice them, just as they sacrifice all the other angry kids they recruit to serve the cause of mayhem. The storks won’t blow themselves up, of course, but in the end, following Starkey off a cliff isn’t all that different.
