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done it as a teen if he hadn't embraced living to spite everyone else who wanted
him gone. He always wanted to make an "it gets better" video to that effect. 'No,
it doesn't really get better, you just get harder. But you want to stop suffering?
Throw it back at them. Live to piss them off every day of your fucking life, by
existing in their rarified orbit and refusing to be quiet about what and who you
are. It could get you in any number of fights, but it feels good to make them hate
you until they're on the verge of a heart attack.' It wouldn't work for everyone,
and there was a good chance his video would not only be removed, but
magnetized and sent to internet hell. But living to annoy others worked for him.
Anyways, he didn't think Ben was that type. Could it have really been so
stark and so simple? He decided that no life was better than life as an infected?
Why not? Many did. Just because Dee was enlightened didn't mean all his exes
were. And being enlightened while being uninfected was a different thing than
being enlightened while being an infected. The difference between hearing a
gunshot and getting shot.
When he came back to the car, Dylan, who'd been reading, put his book
down as he saw the look on his face. "Bad news?"
He wasn't sure how to answer that. "I don't think Dee's going to like the
answer."
Dylan tucked his paperback away in the glove box. "Was he ever going to?
His ex boyfriend is dead. Nothing makes that better."
Well, some things were all right in the universe. Dylan was being wise
again, which meant things couldn't be that bad. Or maybe he just wanted to enjoy
a nice, normal moment before things stopped being normal for a while. His
version of normal.
Oh, fuck it. No matter how Roan tried to sugarcoat it form himself, he'd
never been in the same galaxy as normal, and it seemed to be getting farther away
every passing day. It was just it used to be a good thing. Now he wasn't so sure
anymore.
17 - All That Burns Is Burning
In the car, Holden was treated to the story of Mandy and her internet
boyfriend in a meandering, compulsive bout of verbal diarrhea that made him
want to pull over and put her in the trunk.
It turned out internet boyfriend was "like, fat and old" (thirty), and she was
pretty disgusted by him, so she took off for the Church the first chance she got.
Holden had to repress the urge to gasp dramatically, and proclaim, "Someone
lied? On the internet? The police must be informed!" But he didn't, because she
might think he was serious.
Anyways, she found some people at the Church who allowed her to crash at
their place, and that brought them up to date. She didn't know if she was infected
or not, but she kind of "hoped so", and she had hoped to get in on that whole tiger
thing, but she never met the right people, and besides, "some kinda shithead kitty
fag guy ruined it all". Holden winced, because she was talking about Roan, and
he knew damn well what was coming.
Scott turned to look back at her, and said, "Not only is he a friend of mine,
but he's the guy we work for, so shut your ignorant mouth."
She snorted, crossing her arms over chest. "He's a fucking traitor."
"Say it to his face. If he doesn't rip your arm off, I will."
"Do me a favor," Holden interjected, before it could get really ugly.
"Explain to me how he's a traitor when he wants to keep people from dying
horribly."
"'Cause being infected's fucking awesome," she explained, with the
aggressively bored tone of someone who honestly can't believe anyone could
possibly be as stupid as the person she was talking to. "You become something
else! A big cat! That's fucking cool."
Holden shook his head. "You're an idiot."
"Fuck you, old man."
"Before you came here, did you know a single infected person?"
"Duh."
"Online doesn't count."
She shifted in her seat, arms tightening even more across her chest. Her lips
twisted, but she didn't allow herself to frown. "Are you infected?" she finally
asked.
"No. But that kitty fag is, and I've known him for a while. He'd tell you what
a fucking joke it all is."
She shot him an evil look in the rearview mirror, but Holden found it easy to
ignore. Just like he found her misguided and deeply stupid beliefs easy to
understand as well. He was the son of a preacher, after all, and he knew how
powerful denial could be. It could trump reality, and the more outrageous the
belief, the more reality was helpless against it. You would have thought that
shouldn't have been true, but there was no end to which a person would push
themselves to avoid facing life as it actually was. Life sucked; any belief, no
matter how outrageous, was better.
Scott was lecturing her, but he tuned it out. There was no talking Mandy out
of her stupidity, and besides, their job was done. They found Mandy. Sure, she'd
probably run away from her mother again, possibly before they even reached
Sea-Tac, but who cared? They were just hired to find her once.
He'd be glad to get rid of them both. They could go home and be idiots
there. There were enough idiots here as it was. A whole city full of them.
***
Roan had a change of heart, and asked Dylan if he minded going home for
lunch instead, and he had no problem with the alteration. They picked up some
Vietnamese food to go and returned to eat at the breakfast nook and discuss
plans. Not that there was much to discuss. Roan just told Dylan what Doctor
Rosenberg had told him, about the apartment and what she wanted to do. Dylan's
reaction was the same as his, wondering about the déjà vu of it all.
Dyl all but refused to make the decision for him, since he felt it was Roan's
decision to make. But he just didn't know what to do anymore. Dylan asked him
if he knew what he didn't want to do, a work around that was cheap, obvious, and
helpful. He didn't want the lion to ever hurt Dylan; he'd never forgive himself if
that happened. So Roan thought maybe he could try the monitored apartment for
a week. He'd be back here as much as he could during the day, but that would be
it. Dylan wasn't as worried about the lion coming out as Roan was, but he got the
sense this was Dyl being Zen - read: fatalistic - about it all. Roan understood it,
but didn't like it.
They had just finished lunch when there was a knock on the door, which
caused them to exchange a wary look. "Did we lock the gate?" Roan asked.
Suddenly he couldn't remember if he had or hadn't. Dylan shrugged, indicating he
couldn't remember either. Goddamn it. It had been a long day - week, year,
decade, millennium - so perhaps they could be forgiven an occasional lapse.
Roan went to the door, actually kind of hoping for a fight, as there was
nothing complicated in violence. He knew he could handle it. But a glance
through the door's peephole told him a different kind of fight was on the way.
He almost didn't open the door, but then he figured fuck it, and undid the
locks as aggressively as he could before throwing open the door. "What?"
Agent Monica Flores barely raised an eyebrow at that. "That's a nice
greeting."
"What the hell are you doing at my house?"
"You've been blocking my calls."
"Which would indicate I don't want to talk to you, so why are you here?"
She remained stoic and unflappable in the face of his obvious hostility,
which just made him more pissed off. She had a manila envelope under her arm,
which she pulled out and handed to him. "We're not enemies, McKichan. I wish
you'd stop treating me as such."
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