Page 76 of Anarchy Missing
He could only take me as far as the back bedroom, but his body flickered into a video of Case, up on the roof, completely naked, lying in a pool of blood.
Steve had to tell me how to get up on the roof, but he talked me through it via a small drone that was in danger of being blown away in the wind.
Case woke up for like one second, then fell back into unconsciousness again. And Steve barked out the phone number of his friend Thomas, and from there… the rescue, the fight over me being left behind, and then the ride out here to the mountains.
What the fuck was he doing up there? And what was all that blood? I couldn’t find any marks on him. Not one. But he had a knife in his hand. And even though he was naked, his body was warm and all the snow was melted underneath him.
I don’t have any idea how long he was out there. I don’t even know what time it is.
That gets me moving, my eyes searching for a clock. I find a digitized one in the kitchen, and it says five thirty AM.
I’ve been here over an hour now. And it was a pretty long ride in the helicopter. He was out there for hours and hours, at least. We fell asleep so early. Later afternoon or early evening.
“He’s not going to make it.”
“He’s going to make it,” a soft voice says behind me.
I turn to find Molly Masters leaning on the long black stone countertop, hand scrubbing down her face like she’s been through war.
“He was out there for a long time.”
She sighs. “It’s OK. He’s… special. He’s going to pull through. We’ve stabilized him with the nanites and a jellyfish cocktail. It’s got his heart rate up and his core temperature down. Lincoln can fill you in on more when he come upstairs.”
“When will that be?”
“Soon,” she says. “Sheila will stay downstairs with him. She’s highly equipped to handle this kind of thing, Lulu. So don’t worry. Case will wake up soon and he’ll be… fine.”
“Fine?” I ask. “I don’t know what any of that means. Nanites and jellyfish cocktail.” I have to shake my head, it’s so ridiculous. “But fine is not the word I’d use to describe what he’ll be when… if… he wakes up.”
“Like I said.” Molly sighs. “Lincoln can explain. Would you like some coffee?”
I give up. I have no clue what’s happening. I have no frame of reference for any of this. It’s out of my hands.
“One of the other detectives,” Molly says, walking past me to a large pantry on the other side of the kitchen, “brought me the most amazing cinnamon-flavored coffee the other day. It’s so addictive.”
“Really? That’s strange. I’ve been drinking that same coffee down at City Hall.”
“Well, I guess word travels fast. That new coffeehouse in the city center must be doing great business.”
“What’s the word on the riots?” I ask. “Were you there last night?”
“Yes,” Molly says. “I’m going to be in so much trouble for leaving work last night. But when Thomas called about Case…” She trails off. “I just feel so… guilty. Like this is all my fault.”
“Why would it be your fault?” I ask.
“It’s a long story. And I’m probably not allowed to tell it, so I should just shut up. But anyway. I have a lot of guilt right now.”
I take the hint and let it go. If she tells me something I might have to use it against her later. And I’d rather not. “So the riots were bad?”
“Jesus Christ. The whole city is a mess, not just downtown. The power was still out when I left and there was no estimate of it coming back on any time soon.”
“What made it go out?”
“No one is talking, but…”
“But?” I prod her.
“But it looks like a hack. From the inside. Someone hacked into the data center and…” She sighs and shakes her head. Like she’s unable or unwilling to say.
