“Uh huh,” he said. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll start thinking you’re not really some long-lost Thorburn cousin.”
“Hold that thought,” I said, absently.
I ducked back outside. The hallway was obscured, but the water had leaked across the hallway and into the room opposite the bathroom. Rose’s.
I waited in there, listening without the noise of the shower or the distraction of Peter.
“Should have grabbed something from the kitchen cupboards,” Eva said. “Sprinkle it here and there.”
“Wouldn’t go that far,” Andy replied. “There’s a simpler option. Linen cupboard.”
“Yeah!”
“I already checked these cupboards. You could hunt around upstairs.”
“Fuck. Don’t want to do chores when I might miss the fun stuff. We could strip the bed.”
“Bedrooms are a little flooded. Upstairs is dry and safe. I like keeping things simple.”
“Right.”
“I’ll stay here, keep an eye on the bathroom, staircases, and watch for the practitioners.”
“You can’t just blow the bathroom door away?”
“I used all the bombs on the exterior windows and doors.”
“Shit… and on the kid upstairs? Before they locked themselves up again?”
“…Yeah. Look, Eva, stop stalling. Go get the sheets. It’ll take a minute, two minutes tops. Almost less time than you’ve spent complaining just now.”
“Ugh.”
“I’ve never known you to prefer waiting to doing something.”
“Uh huh.”
“Am I wrong?”
“I’m supposed to be calling the shots,” she said. “You do it off-the-job, I do it on-the-job.”
“Then call the shots, Eva,” Andy said, sounding exasperated.
“You stay put, I’m getting some stuff to throw on the ground and block the reflection.”
“Sure, Eva,” he said. “If you say so.”
“And,” she said, sounding a little more excited, “do you think you can kill the power?”
“The breaker box is probably in the basement. With the rest of the Thorburns and the tear gas.”
“Fuck! And they rigged the stairs, covering it with oil. I’ll break a leg going down there.”
There was a note of interest in his voice, “Did they? It’s fine. Look, Eva, you want to hurt them for whatever reason? Just make them stay put. They’ll hurt more than anything you can do. Right now? They’re staying put. We keep the Bloody Marv out of the way for thirty more minutes, and we’re free and clear.”
“Kill the power, and the Thorburn Bogeyman won’t be able to protect them when it gets dark. Helps us now, and helps us later. It’s part of the plan.”
“Hm.”
“No? Yes?”
“I’ll figure something out. Go. Sheets. Please.”
“Going! Turn out the lights you don’t need!”
I heard her footsteps and the light splashes of her footfalls. The water was probably less than an inch deep, it wasn’t much.
The light in the hallway flicked off, and the light that reached under the door disappeared. I still had light from the bedroom window.
Before I could raise my eyes, I saw a movement.
Tiny.
“Evan,” I said.
“Blake! I couldn’t get to Peter and I couldn’t go outside, so I came here. You said to wait here, before.”
By the vanity mirror atop the dresser. Right. I hadn’t even thought about that.
Andy was possibly shutting off the power. Eva was getting sheets to cover the hallway.
“Are you ready to kick some ass?” I asked.
“Always.”
I thought for a second.
“You can open doors. Can you… open a way for me?”
“Huh?”
“There’s crud from the fire extinguisher in the water. Can you get rid of it?”
He leaned over the dresser, tilting his head as he looked at the water.
“In the hallway?” I asked.
“Oh. I can try!”
“Good man. Hold tight.”
Had to stall Andy and Eva.
Andy first.
He worried me more than Eva did, frankly.
How to stop him from futzing with the power?
I closed my eyes for a second, visualizing the house.
Was there a chance?
I headed downstairs, dropping straight down.
The first floor was pretty flooded. Water reached into the hallway and living room, while Eva’s doormat barricade had, somewhat ironically, helped me. By blocking the water, she’d freed it to take the path of least resistance.
And the best path of least resistance was down.
I headed down.
The basement was flooding. Trickles of water streamed down the walls and pooled on the floor, much of it too dusty to see.
The basement windows were small enough that even Roxanne would find them a squeeze. The lightbulbs were old and orange. The water made for a reflective surface, and there was light.
The gathered Thorburns were still coughing, making sounds of pain.
Tear gas, apparently, wasn’t something you bounced back from in a matter of five or ten minutes.
“Hit the breaker switches,” I said. “Then turn everything back on in… five minutes.”
“Who? The guy from the mirror? Where are you?”
“Now,” I said.
I didn’t wait for a response. My gut told me that if I tried to convince them, they’d argue.
With nobody to argue against, they’d only be able to obey. Hopefully.
I headed back upstairs. I moved to the bathroom.
“You locked in?”
“Fuck me!” Peter exclaimed.
“Not if I can help it,” I said.
“I’m- no. Yes? I locked myself in.”
“Thirty seconds, open the door, head into the hallway.”
He was silent.
I had to trust my knowledge of who he was. Problem was, Peter was both an opportunist and a coward. Either way, he’d convince himself it would all work out in the end, whether he was avoiding a reality or taking a risk. I wasn’t sure which of the two ideas would win out.
“You should get a chance to beat that guy’s face in,” I told the Opportunist.
The lights went off. I was shunted out the door, back downstairs.
Again. The closest location should have been Evan, across the hall. Annoying.
I headed back to Evan. “Door.”
He hopped onto the doorknob. It was faux crystal, probably made of plastic, like an oversized diamond with rounded edges. He gripped it with his talons and let his body weight turn it. He fell, catching himself with a flutter of his wings.
I reached through the puddle, and gave the bottom of the door a push. Light streamed into the bedroom from the hallway.
Evan wheeled around, then flew down the length of the hallway, feathered body just tracing the water. The grit on top of the water parted like grease in a dramatized soap commercial.
I followed after him, footsteps splashing, as a glowing road, lit by the purples and oranges that streamed through the window, opened before me.
Andy was kneeling in the water, holding a twisted length of metal in pliers, a coarse glove on the hand with the tool. He was looking up at the light, confused.
No reason to cut the power when it was already cut.
It also served as a distraction, putting him off balance.
He turned his head as Evan passed by.