“I’m also armed.”

  “Luanne, have you ever considered that your threatening to shoot me is a subconscious desire to make our relationship more physical?”

  “It is a very conscious desire to protect myself.”

  “How about a picture? Can you send me a picture of you? In that nightgown?”

  “Good night, Sigmund. I think we’re going to have to have to take another break. Don’t contact me again until next week.”

  “Please! I couldn’t bear it! I need to hear your voice, like a fish needs to breathe water! Like a bee needs flowers! Like sugar needs spice to make everything nice! I love you, Luanne! I’ll do anything to make you happy! I’ll move mountains! I’ll completely erase whole mountain ranges! I’ll commit genocide on unheard of scales! I’ll destroy all life on Earth! I just want you to love me the way you loved Dad!”

  Ziggy realized she had hung up and he’d been speaking to a dead line.

  He allowed himself to wallow in lovesick shame for ten seconds, and then he buried his emotions deep down.

  Luanne will take me seriously, once I start destroying towns.

  She’ll beg me to be with her.

  The lights blinked off and back on, and Ziggy wondered if Bub had somehow damaged the compound’s electricity.

  The fire alarm went off next.

  Bub is becoming a bigger problem than anticipated.

  While Ziggy was grateful to Charles for inviting him to Esbat, and facilitating all the funding for the Tesla project, he disliked the man.

  Ziggy knew himself, and his eccentricities.

  Yes, I’m a sadistic, Machiavellian, psychopathic narcissist.

  Yes, I have psychosexual feelings for my mother, which Freud declared is completely, entirely, one hundred percent normal. It’s even more normal for me because she’s my adoptive mother, so our inevitable union won’t result in a baby with fourteen toes and a pointy head.

  Yes, I’m single-minded and ruthless, willing to commit crimes against humanity to get what I want. I’m also selfless enough to rule the world as a fair and noble leader. Which, as Albert noted, will require a great deal of time and effort that I’ll never be adequately compensated for.

  But ultimately I am a man of science.

  Charles, however, is a zealot. A megalomanic. A fanatic, driven by beliefs larger than himself.

  Which is not only idiotic, but reveals him to be an ideological, preachy, self-important tool.

  It’s insufferable. And now the object of his obsession—a monstrous killing machine of indeterminable age and background—has been unleashed, and that jackass is off playing County Clerk rather than dealing with this shit.

  Plus, to be perfectly honest, the man is a pandering, milquetoast bore.

  “We’ve done it, Ziggy. You were right. Bert is the one who solved it. We now have a superweapon of mass destruction.”

  Ziggy snapped out of his reverie and checked the monitor.

  The large pile of thrift store lamps in the center of the lab had been reduced to a smoking mound of ash.

  Bub didn’t mess with the electricity and set off the fire alarms.

  It’s the teleforce!

  Glorious! This is glorious!

  “How powerful is it, Nicky?”

  “As powerful as we need it to be. Bert figured out the equations to make it scale. With enough Tesla turbines, we could cut the moon in half.”

  Incredible!

  “You’ve done well, Nicky. When I usher in a brave, new world, ruled by science and my own infallible logic, you’ll have a place at my side. Well, technically not at my side. You’ll be beneath me. But you’ll be rich. Isn’t that the thing you’ve always wanted, Nicky?”

  “I told you a thousand times, my name is Nick.”

  Ziggy squinted at the monitor, and noticed that Nicky’s new weapon was pointed at the wall.

  The wall that connected the lab with control room.

  He’s going to shoot the teleforce at me.

  Smart.

  I underestimated Nicky. And Albert. Shame on me for not seeing it coming.

  But Ziggy quickly forgave himself, as he always did, and leapt up from his seat and ran to the door to get the hell out of there, grabbing the door handle—

  —which came off in his hand.

  What’s going on?

  He squatted, peering through the round hole.

  That ridiculous extinct dodo bird, Stosh, stared back, half of a broken doorknob clenched in his giant beak.

  Standing next to him, Abagail the turkey.

  “Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeet!” tweeted Abagail.

  Well, I suppose there is some measure of irony here that I can muse over at a more convenient time.

  Ziggy reared back and kicked the door once. Twice. Three times.

  Then he noticed the hinges were on the inside.

  That won’t work. New plan.

  Ziggy hurried back to the desk and hit the intercom button.

  “Attention all personnel. Stop whatever you’re doing and come help me. I’m stuck in the control room.”

  He checked the monitors, but no one seemed to be coming to his aid. Mostly people were running around, screaming. Ziggy did see Augustus Torble, lumbering through Hallway 13.

  “Gus, this is Ziggy. I need you to get to the control room immediately.”

  Augustus gave him the middle finger.

  Well, half of a middle finger. The other half is missing.

  The lights flickered.

  Nicky must be charging up the generator for another shot.

  No need to worry yet. There are still options.

  Ziggy took out his cell phone and sent a group text.

  Stuck in control room. Need immediate assistance. A million dollars to whomever helps me.

  He hit send.

  Message not delivered.

  That’s odd.

  His sense of urgency growing, but still refraining from panic, Ziggy checked his Wi-Fi settings.

  The password has been changed.

  Apparently Presley is more resourceful than I gave her credit for.

  This is an unfortunate chain of events. But there must be a solution.

  There’s always a solution.

  The bank of monitors exploded, and Ziggy finally recognized the horror of the situation and became paralyzed by complete, full-body fear.

  He managed to utter a single word.

  “Mommy.”

  Then came a wave of heat.

  A MAJOR wave of heat. Like a hairdryer, times fifty billion.

  Is this what the pain wand feels like? This is horrible.

  It’s getting worse.

  IT’S GETTING WORSE!!!

  I PROMISE I’LL BE A GOOD BOY JUST MAKE IT STOP!!!

  That was Ziggy’s last thought, just before his brain boiled and burst out of his ears.

  BERT

  Area 57 – New Mexico

  Though it had been Bert’s idea to shoot the teleforce at Ziggy, Nick had insisted on pushing the fire button, and even seemed eager to do so.

  That didn’t sit well with Bert.

  I’m still not entirely sure whose side Nick is on. His own, I suppose. Just like the rest of us.

  And we didn’t really have any choice in the matter.

  I can hold off blaming myself for what happened when everyone is safe.

  “Did you get him?” Bert asked.

  “Ziggy had cameras everywhere. Including the control room. I hacked into his feed a few days after I arrived.”

  Nick held up his cell phone, and Bert winced at the carnage. But then he saw another tiny window and touched it.

  Weejy!

  And SoJo, too!

  And…

  Who is that guy with the white hair and the bleeding hand?

  “Is there a way to hear sound?”

  “Pinch and spread the screen, then turn up the volume on the side of the phone.”

  Bert followed the directions, a sense of urgency overtaking him.

  “My name is Gus,” the man told the ladies. “I’m a friend of Tom’s.”

  Bert freely admitted that he and Tom didn’t keep in touch as much as they should have. Both parties were at fault there. Life gets busy. It’s hard to stay connected. But when the friends did connect, they shared a lot. Hopes. Fears. Memories, good and bad.

  Bert knew enough about Tom and his past to recognize this man, Gus.

  Gus is the one who branded Tom’s chest.

  Gus is not a friend.

  Bert turned to Nick, frantic. “Is there a way to talk on this? Use the intercom?”

  “No. Only in the control room. And I just blew that up.”

  “Where are they?” Bert pointed to the hallway on Nick’s phone.

  “Four corridors away, to the right.”

  Bert handed the cell back and headed for the door, but Nick grabbed his arm and held him back.

  “You don’t want to do that. Bub is running around, slaughtering everyone.”

  “That man they’re with, he’s a killer.”

  Nick raised his phone screen, the sound of gunfire coming through the speaker as Bert watched a guard ineffectively empty his magazine into Bub, who bled but continued to approach. When the demon reached the man, Bub picked him up by the waist, as easy as lifting a toddler. The guard held out his hands, trying to push the creature away, screaming as Bub gnawed down his arms to stumps.

  Horrifying.

  But nothing would stop Bert from reaching Weejy and SoJo. Not even Satan.

  “Charge the weapon and be ready.” Bert pulled away and stormed to the door. Opening it, he heard faint gunfire resonate from elsewhere in the compound.

  And more screaming. A lot more screaming.

  Not considering his own safety, or thinking to ask Nick where Bub was currently rampaging, Bert ran down the corridor to the right. He reached the end, coming to a door, and went through with zero caution.

  The second hallway was empty, and Bert sprinted through it, barreling through another door—

  —and skating across a slick puddle of blood.

  Throwing out his arms for balance and fumbling like a newbie ice skater, Bert managed to stay on his feet as he crossed the hall, coming to the third door, yanking it open as his heart raced and terrible images competed for dominancy in his head.

  This corridor revealed what had been bleeding. One of the security guards, legs missing. He’d left a wide streak of blood where he’d pulled himself across the floor by his hands.

  Bert skidded to a stop, squatting to check the man’s pulse, not needing to because his eyes were open and fixed and obviously devoid of life, and then Bert scrambled to the last door, not hesitating even though it was dented and hanging on just one hinge, and tugging it open to reveal—

  Bub.

  The monster filled the hallway, horns scraping the ceiling, rubbery bat wings folded and tucked against his massive back. Between his hooves, Bert saw Gus, facing the beast. Behind him—

  Weejy and SoJo.

  “We had a deal, Bub.” SoJo spread out her hands. “You promised not to kill us.”

  “Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.”

  Holy hell that thing is terrifying.

  But Bert didn’t let that stop him. He crouched, waving his arms to get his friends’ attention.

  “How about you and I make a deal?” Gus actually smirked, and Bert noted a machinegun slung over his neck. “Let me kill the women, and I’ll show you how to get out of here.”

  Weejy made panicked eye-contact with Bert, and he wanted to reassure her, to save her, but had no clue what to do next.

  Tell them to run, and try to lure Bub away?

  Gus would still be a threat.

  Run back to the dead guard, see if he has a weapon?

  Seems like Gus already took it. Besides, Bub didn’t seem bothered by bullets.

  Backtrack and try to find a different way to the ladies?

  Bert dismissed that. He wasn’t going to let Weejy out of his sight, ever again.

  A voice filled Bert’s head, making him flinch.

  “It’s Presley. Password is reset and comms are up. Can everyone call out their location and status?”

  “It’s Tom. I’m with Joan and Team One. Team Two is incapacitated, but they’re okay. Van was a bad one. Leo and Catherine were also bad, tried to kill everyone. Leo took off. If you see him, don’t trust him.”

  “This is Harry McGlade, Team Three Commander-in-Chief and Appointed Jefe for Life. I’m on the bus with the Tony Mafia, including, but not limited to: Tony Cappuccino, Tony Cream With Two Sugars, Tony Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino With A Double Shot, Tony Mocha Chocolata Yaya, Tony Who Doesn’t Drink Coffee But Likes The Smell, Tony Bubble Tea, Tony Bubble Butt, Tony Bobble Head, who I suspect has some sort of terrible spinal injury, Virus Tony—heh heh, that name is catchy…”

  Bert decided what he had to do. He pressed the button in his ear and interrupted Harry’s litany. “This is Bert. I’m with Weejy and SoJo. Bub is out and has killed most of the guards. I’m looking at him right now. I’m also looking at Augustus Torble, who has a gun. Ziggy is dead. I used Tesla’s weapon on him.”

  Bub craned his enormous head around and glared at Bert with yellow eyes, the pupils elongated. He looked like a possessed grizzly bear, with the triangular teeth of a shark and the snout of a wild hog.

  “You killed Sigmuuuuuuuuuuuuuund.”

  Bert nodded, hoping his hunch was right.

  “I did it for you, Bub. I’m your friend. Like Weejy and SoJo. Ziggy had no right to keep you prisoner. You should be free. But that man,” Bert pointed at Gus. “He’s on Ziggy’s side. Ziggy hired him to hurt you. He isn’t your friend.”

  Bub swung around, glaring at Gus.

  Gus shrugged and grinned a sloppy grin. “I have trouble making friends.”

  Then he raised the gun and fired at Bub’s head.

  The bullets shredded Bub’s face, but the demon didn’t seem to mind. He scooped Gus up by one leg, holding him upside down. Then Satan grabbed Gus’s other leg and pulled like he was breaking a wishbone, tearing the man in half from crotch to right shoulder.

  Gus opened up like a piñata. But it wasn’t candy that spilled out.

  Bert fought the urge to puke. Gus’s head, still attached to the left side of his body, never lost his smile.

  “Bert?” Tom, in his ear. “You okay?”

  Weejy began to gag, drawing Bub’s attention, and Bert pressed his ear button again and quickly said, “I can show you the way out, Bub. Let them through, and you can follow us to freedom.”

  Bub swung his huge body around to face Bert, who stared speechless as the bullet holes in the devil’s monstrous head closed up and healed.

  “Freeeeeeeeeeeeedoooooooooooom.”

  Then, incredibly, Bub stepped to the side, allowing Weejy and SoJo to hurry past. Bert embraced them both in a brief but emotional group hug, and then the friends held hands and Bert led them back through the halls, moving slow and careful as Bub loped behind.

  Weejy gave Bert’s fingers a tight squeeze, shooting him a look that asked, “Are we really letting this thing out?”

  Bert gave her a look back that said, “Trust me.”

  Please let this work.

  Please please please.

  The overhead lights flickered.

  A positive sign.

  When they got to the lab, Bert pulled Weejy to the side, and Weejy in turn pulled SoJo.

  Nick had shifted the teleforce to face the door, and Bert thanked the universe that Number 15, the clone that had brought them there, the one that Bert had hoped was one of the good ones, actually seemed to be one of the good ones.

  Bert considered running for the Faraday cage, instantly decided that doing so would forewarn Bub, and instead he yelled, “Now!” and tugged his friends to the floor, wrapping his arms around them.

  Light flooded the circular room, like multiple lightning strikes. Bert peeked over Weejy’s head, squinting to watch as Bub’s flesh peeled off his face, revealing the skull underneath. The teleforce hummed louder than a jet engine, and it became too bright to see, so bright it even hurt Bert’s eyes with them squeezed shut.

  Then, abruptly, the weapon shut off.

  When Bert could see again, Bub was gone. In his place were chunky piles of carbon, pounds of it. The door, and most of the hallway, was scorched black.

  Bert pressed his ear radio. “We used the teleforce on Bub. I think we disintegrated him.”

  Weejy hugged Bert, hard, and he felt her breath on his neck.

  “It’s McGlade, your Exalted Boss Kingpin. Charles says Bub isn’t easy to kill.”

  “Charles, that little shit.” SoJo made a face. “He’s the one running things, not Ziggy. Don’t trust a GD thing he says.”

  Bert looked to Nick for confirmation.

  “Yeah. Charles runs it all. He wants to use Bub to start another Christian Crusade.”

  “Is Bub dead?” Weejy asked.

  Nick shrugged. “I dunno. With Ziggy, I had the teleforce on a low setting, and he popped like a water balloon. For Bub I turned it all the way up. I haven’t done all the calculations, but that should have been enough to vaporize an airplane.”

  Fabler’s voice came through the ear bud. “Do you need us to come in and get you?”

  “They want to know if they should come in,” Bert relayed.

  Nick pulled out his cell, pressing the screen a few times, flipping through the facility’s cameras. “Looks all clear. I mean, not clear. It looks like a massacre. But I don’t see anyone in any rooms or halls. I think we’re the only ones left alive.”

  “I think we’re good,” Bert said into the radio.

  Then he held Weejy, and he knew for sure they were good.

  Weejy’s eyes were huge. Beautiful.

  I love her. I love her so much.

  No more missed opportunities. I’m going to treasure every moment, because every moment is a gift.

  “So it’s over?” she asked.

  Bert winked. “Over? We’re just getting started.”

  “Oh, Bert,” she sighed.

  SoJo stood up, pulling away from the duo. “Shit is about to get mushy.”

  When their lips met, the kiss was soft and gentle and full of promises.

  Promises that Bert fully intended to keep.