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Authors: David Beers
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serene.
The FBI hadn't tried to hide Victor, not that it would matter if they did. Matthew found his residence easily enough a few minutes after hanging up the phone and then started his drive. It took him around fifteen hours to get here, but he'd done similar drives over and over, so it didn't bother him. He came immediately because he had no time to waste; things were...deteriorating. He needed to figure this part out fast, in order to decide what came next.
He saw the two FBI agents sitting in the car outside. He couldn't see inside the car but he knew what they were. That was strange in itself: one car, alone here. The back door had been an easy enough pick, and he slipped in as silently as he had the other houses he took from. He crept from room to room, looking for the kid he now stood above. He found the parents in another room, looking as peaceful as Victor. Everyone at peace in the house, and the FBI agents outside, if not at peace, then certainly not in turmoil. Why hadn't they put someone out back? They already made that mistake last time and they paid pretty dearly for it. Or rather, Joe Welch and his family paid dearly for it. So why do it again?
Allison Moore made the mistake last time. Art hadn't. So was this Art's mistake? Had he not given enough attention to Moore's tactics to learn from them? It was possible. The man wasn't necessarily slow but there were plenty of faster fish in the sea. Or was Matthew making the mistake? That was the other possibility, and from there, Matthew saw two more sprout out like roots from a tuber. If Art didn’t make the mistake, if he put a single car out there on purpose, then it meant they wanted him to come here, to take Victor. Either because they thought Victor could convince him to stop or because Victor wasn't Victor. Victor was someone else, some staged FBI agent acting like Matthew's long lost son.
If Art didn’t make the mistake, and the safe bet was to assume he didn’t, what choices did that leave Matthew with? He could walk away from this right now and concentrate on holding his mind together and collecting the remaining bodies. And maybe doing that was the smart move because things were cracking quickly inside him. He knew Morgant had woken up, briefly, but that still meant he pushed Matthew aside. He saw where Morgant tried to wreck his work, saw the ripped up feet on the people he tried to rip from their spots. Blood had leaked down to the concrete floor from the torn flesh and Matthew mopped it up, wondering how long Morgant had been loose. Wondering how much more time Morgant would need to pull someone off. Matthew didn't know the answer, but he knew that he would find out pretty quickly if he didn't do something . So leaving now, just going out the same way he came in, was a solid idea.
But if this was his son. If Rally and he created this child, then he couldn't leave him here. He couldn't walk away and leave him only knowing what the television told him about his father. He couldn't leave him and go back to building a damn death ray. He couldn't kill the last of his kin without at least knowing him, without knowing whether this kid could absolve the rest of the world's sins. Maybe he could let everyone live if this was his son; Matthew felt he deserved that. What was wrong with that?
If the kid wasn't Brand's son, but an impostor...well, did he want to leave him here on this bed if that was the case? If Art and Jake and this Victor collaborated to invent a scheme to fool Matthew, then did the impostor deserve to live? Did he deserve to go on with his life after having used the only thing that could possibly matter to Matthew, the only thing that he thirsted for through the past three decades—a son? No. If this was a scheme, then the schemers would die. Art and Jake when the world ended, and this kid? In a much more painful fashion.
* * *
M aybe the wrecked streets woke Henry, or maybe whatever concoction Brand used to put him under finally wore
The FBI hadn't tried to hide Victor, not that it would matter if they did. Matthew found his residence easily enough a few minutes after hanging up the phone and then started his drive. It took him around fifteen hours to get here, but he'd done similar drives over and over, so it didn't bother him. He came immediately because he had no time to waste; things were...deteriorating. He needed to figure this part out fast, in order to decide what came next.
He saw the two FBI agents sitting in the car outside. He couldn't see inside the car but he knew what they were. That was strange in itself: one car, alone here. The back door had been an easy enough pick, and he slipped in as silently as he had the other houses he took from. He crept from room to room, looking for the kid he now stood above. He found the parents in another room, looking as peaceful as Victor. Everyone at peace in the house, and the FBI agents outside, if not at peace, then certainly not in turmoil. Why hadn't they put someone out back? They already made that mistake last time and they paid pretty dearly for it. Or rather, Joe Welch and his family paid dearly for it. So why do it again?
Allison Moore made the mistake last time. Art hadn't. So was this Art's mistake? Had he not given enough attention to Moore's tactics to learn from them? It was possible. The man wasn't necessarily slow but there were plenty of faster fish in the sea. Or was Matthew making the mistake? That was the other possibility, and from there, Matthew saw two more sprout out like roots from a tuber. If Art didn’t make the mistake, if he put a single car out there on purpose, then it meant they wanted him to come here, to take Victor. Either because they thought Victor could convince him to stop or because Victor wasn't Victor. Victor was someone else, some staged FBI agent acting like Matthew's long lost son.
If Art didn’t make the mistake, and the safe bet was to assume he didn’t, what choices did that leave Matthew with? He could walk away from this right now and concentrate on holding his mind together and collecting the remaining bodies. And maybe doing that was the smart move because things were cracking quickly inside him. He knew Morgant had woken up, briefly, but that still meant he pushed Matthew aside. He saw where Morgant tried to wreck his work, saw the ripped up feet on the people he tried to rip from their spots. Blood had leaked down to the concrete floor from the torn flesh and Matthew mopped it up, wondering how long Morgant had been loose. Wondering how much more time Morgant would need to pull someone off. Matthew didn't know the answer, but he knew that he would find out pretty quickly if he didn't do something . So leaving now, just going out the same way he came in, was a solid idea.
But if this was his son. If Rally and he created this child, then he couldn't leave him here. He couldn't walk away and leave him only knowing what the television told him about his father. He couldn't leave him and go back to building a damn death ray. He couldn't kill the last of his kin without at least knowing him, without knowing whether this kid could absolve the rest of the world's sins. Maybe he could let everyone live if this was his son; Matthew felt he deserved that. What was wrong with that?
If the kid wasn't Brand's son, but an impostor...well, did he want to leave him here on this bed if that was the case? If Art and Jake and this Victor collaborated to invent a scheme to fool Matthew, then did the impostor deserve to live? Did he deserve to go on with his life after having used the only thing that could possibly matter to Matthew, the only thing that he thirsted for through the past three decades—a son? No. If this was a scheme, then the schemers would die. Art and Jake when the world ended, and this kid? In a much more painful fashion.
* * *
M aybe the wrecked streets woke Henry, or maybe whatever concoction Brand used to put him under finally wore
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