“Like you said, does it matter anymore? I’m the head of the Company. And our job these days is mostly getting rid of people. We’re paring down. So maybe I just let it all fall apart? Maybe that’s the answer?”
“Are you the head, Adam? Are you really? And don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your job. I want Donovan or Carter to wake up and help me fix what’s inside Wendy’s head. The rest of it, I give no fucks at all. But if your human vices theory on why people do the things they do is right, then there are probably a whole lot of pissed-off people out there wondering why you took away their good thing.”
“It’s all so fuckin’ evil, that’s why.”
“I know that. You know that. But we’re…” He spreads his arms wide. “Us, Adam. Maybe we are some fucked-up people. Killers. But we have what we need. We’ve lived the good life. You, especially. Me, I did that stint down in Central America. It sucked. I thought they were gonna kill me. But I learned things from them. Important lessons about poverty, and desire, and what some people are willing to do to get more. We don’t think the same way they do. And I’m not talking about the elites, OK? And I’m not talking about the low man on the pole, either. I’m talking about the ones our age. The ones who grew up in it. Who worked their asses off. Did things that keep them up at night. Put in the sacrifices. And then got nothing in return. That promotion never came. That bonus never appeared. And most of them were hunted down and killed. The ones who are left, Adam? They know what we took from them. And they are pissed.”
A lot of what he says makes sense. I’ve heard it all before, of course. Some people only do evil things. I can deal with them. They’re in it for themselves and they’re just willing to do what it takes. If I give them what they want—and sometimes I do—they’re happy. These are the kind of men I have on my payroll right now. They do evil things but they aren’t evil people.
But there’s another kind of person inside the Company. The ones I do not work with.
The ones who avoid me. Who went into hiding the moment the chain of command was shattered and everyone in charge started dying.
They are the ones we need to worry about.
The ones who like the evil.
The ones who get off on it.
The ones who need it.
They don’t want money. They don’t want houses, or boats, or jets.
They want more life for themselves, but death for all others. They want breeding programs, and fucked-up mad-science experiments, and most of all, they want to be feared and they want control.
Supervillains, I guess. But they’re not the cartoon characters you see in comic books. They are stars in their very own horror show.
There are fewer of them than you’d expect. Most people aren’t truly evil, they’re just greedy, or angry, or violent—choose your vice. They can be reasoned with if you pay them enough. They are all still going to Hell, but they’re not interested in playing the role of Satan in real life.
“I think Carter is one of them,” I say.
“I have no doubt,” Nick scoffs.
“I think he might even be their leader. So what should we do about it?”
“Kill him. But only after I get what I need.”
I look him in the eyes and then we come to some kind of understanding. Because I say, “Agreed.”
CHAPTER NINE - DONOVAN
I am a man of accomplishments.
I thrive on them.
Achieving things drives me.
Like a goal, but not a goal, because the goal never seems to matter, just the effort it took to get there.
“That’s such a special thing, Donovan. You have no idea how rare it is to find a person who lives for the journey.”
Right. The journey.
“I’m glad you came back. I was hoping—you know…”
Ana Avery lets her sentence trail off. She’s an achiever too. She is never about the destination, just the journey. That’s why we’re so good together. But she’s not one to trail off in mid-thought, so I pay attention.
“I was hoping we’d spend our lives together. Out here, ya know? The wilds of Wyoming. I love it so much. I know it’s not your thing—”
I get a little lost in the view as she talks. We’re in her office. This is where she brought me when I was running away from that mess at Old Home. We’re sitting on a ledge on the side of a cliff. It overlooks a green plateau, a valley outlined in stone walls, and a flowing river.
How does she work in the winter? The whole place must get covered in snow.