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them not to move through the door, but there was nothing I could do. Two officers rushed forward, guns drawn, only to be attacked the moment they stepped through.

The male Stranger, who’d been waiting in ambush, moved his two cavernous sleeves to the first officer’s head and snapped his neck with a powerful, grossly unnatural twist.

Before the body had even crumpled to the ground, the cloaked figure had already moved to his next target. He was hunched menacingly as his enormous cloak billowed away from him. I saw his lithe, lizard-like frame outlined perfectly until the fabric caught up to his movement.

The second policeman was met with the same dark hands around his neck as he was pushed to the ground and the Stranger kneeled over him, the fabric from the coat seeming to eat them both, and then I lost view of the horror.

Just as I saw more police cars pulling up outside the tower, the leader reached the lobby. He grabbed his female compatriot, and they bolted out the front into the swarm of cops.

At first, the police seemed tense and ready to open fire, but then the female stepped forward and seemed to be talking to them, lecturing them. The uniformed men soon began to lower their weapons, faces filling with inexplicable sadness. It seemed impossible, like the woman was scolding small children.

The leader pulled her away, and the trio continued down the street, out of camera view.

The police snapped back into motion. I watched dumbly as they swept into the tower. They came storming up the staircases and took their time searching every room. I was stuck in that tiny room, staring at the bullet hole in the floor, for what seemed like eternity.

I watched with a general sense of dread as they worked their way up to me. We made hesitant contact and radios were frantically barked at until I was identified. Soon, my room was crowded with officers who intruded on my personal space and touched my computer. I fidgeted as they asked me about what footage the cameras had of the intruder; I watched them try to bring up the digital file, only to find that it had all been erased somehow.

I wasn’t surprised. The man who’d broken down the door had gone straight for the hardcopy backups, which he shouldn’t have known about. They were locked up in a heavy cage and were touched only twice a year to switch the hard drives out. The copies we used daily were stored on the network, where others could access it; this is what had been erased.

“Do you think he was trying to kill me?” I asked the detective while I stared at the hole in the floor of my office. Even after surviving the Collapse, it was probably the closest I’d ever come to dying.

“War is to man as motherhood is to woman,” the detective said, writing me off with some kind of ridiculous proverb.

“What?” I asked. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s just a saying…and Escher doesn’t miss,” the detective said quietly. He was distracted, reading some sort of file as he talked to me.

“Is that who was up here? Escher?” So the leader had a name.

“It was Escher,” he said. “They call him the Red King. As in, he’s king of the Red zones—he leads the SSS.”

“SSS?”

“Secret Society of Strangers.”

“Well, did you guys catch him?”

The detective’s grip tightened on the file he was holding. “No.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because they’re freakin’ magic, alright? Jesus.”

“But it looked like—”

“What it looks like with the Strangers and what it is are almost always two different things. We’re doing what we can.” He said it in a way that encouraged me to drop the subject.

I shut up.

“We need to check your ID…just standard stuff,” he told me moments later, seemingly apologetic. I couldn't blame him really. The police that were left in Banlo Bay had to do a job better suited for a military—except there was no more Federal government, and so no more military.

“No problem,” I said, happy to do anything to get me out of there quicker. I reached into my back pocket and found it empty. “It’s missing,” I stammered. “I had it when I came in. I know I did. My card pass is in there. I couldn’t have gotten up the elevator without it.”

The detective asked the officers if anyone had found it. No one had. “Is it possible that Escher took it?” he asked.

“Yes, I guess it’s possible…but I don’t know. He grabbed me out from under the desk, but it was all a blur. Oh, God! He has my—my name, my address…even my city card.”

“Don’t worry. I can issue you a temporary pass.” He pulled out a pad of forms from his back pocket and began writing. “This will be good for two weeks, alright? You need to have a new card by then.”

“I have someone at home. They could go over there, try to find her, and—”

“How would they know she’s there?” he asked. “And why would they want to go?”

I decided not to tell him about the cage where the hardcopy footage was locked. The less reason I gave the Strangers to dislike me, the longer I would live.

“Why wouldn’t they? How do I know what they know?”

“Look, you’ve had a long day. Go home, take a rest. You’ll be fine. If you need anything, all 911. We’ll come just like we always do,” he said, trying to placate me.

It wasn’t going to work, though. They couldn’t even protect themselves.

I shivered, already reaching for my phone

“How confident are you he wouldn’t try anything?” I asked again as my phone made its maddening third and fourth rings.

The police officer had already turned away.

Then the receiver lifted. “Yes?” Erika asked.

“Jesus, you’re okay. I didn’t know what to expect. I thought someone might be after you.”

“What are you talking about? Why would anyone be after me?”

“It’s been a hell of a day. Am I on the news? Is there anything about Tasumec Tower being attacked?” I asked.

“No, nothing like that,” she said. “Just a cat chasing a dog with a butcher knife.”

“On the news?”

“There’s nothing. Come on home, my Lord. I have a new altar prepared for you.”

“I’ll be there soon. Keep the door locked.”


5. Up and Down




She waved me in with a healthy pink smile.

“Has anyone tried to break in? Has anyone called?” I asked immediately.

“What? No. Nothing, flat, zero. Just another boring day,” she answered, stepping aside so I could enter my living room. “What happened?”

I told Erika everything.

“Very interesting,” Erika said in a faux-German accent. “If I didn’t know you, I’d say it was made up.”

“It wasn’t made up. I swear it really happened. They could be coming here right now.”

“And you didn’t tell the police that the footage in that cage has Escher recorded on it?” she asked.

“No! He knows where I live, you think I want to piss him off?”

“That seems very opportune,” she said wryly. “So do you think the police have that footage now?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Probably not.” I said miserably. “He has my wallet, Erika! I can’t believe it. You think I should have told the police?” I collapsed backwards onto the couch.

Erika stepped up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders. The feeling was electrifying. I could feel her long nails digging into my skin as she kneaded my muscles. “No, I think you did the right thing. And the way you were so worried for me?” she asked. “That was sweet.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m God, after all. I gotta watch out for my disciples.”

“Well…” she said, tracing a finger up and down my shoulder. This made my face heat up with burning, chemically unstable blood. “I’m okay, so don’t worry about it. They won’t come here.”

“I don’t know if I want to go back,” I admitted.

The phone rang rudely, interrupting us.

Erika picked it up from its receiver and immediately pressed it back down, hanging up abruptly. “We don’t need that right now. But c’mon, it isn’t so bad. Be tough. He’s gone. If he wanted to come for you, he’d be here, right? I say stand your ground. Tough this one out.”

My shoulders slumped. It seemed unfair, but I stopped arguing because I knew it was only making me look more afraid than I already was. I was so focused on my confrontation with Escher that I didn’t even notice when Erika started tenderly rubbing my earlobe. I brushed her hand away reflexively. Nothing sexy about my impending doom.

*

I woke up the next morning still groggy from my fitful sleep.

I got up in time for work out of habit, even though I still wasn’t set on going. Stepping foot back in that office bothered me in some profound way; it didn’t feel like the same place anymore.

“Fine then,” Erika said suddenly as I sipped the coffee she always had brewing in the kitchen. “We’ll both go, if you aren’t going to get dressed.”

“I don’t want to go,” I told her. “Escher could come back for me.”

“God is a lot of things,” she said, “but I don’t think God’s supposed to be, y’know, such a pussy.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Sometimes,” she said.

“I don’t think you get it. It’s the goddamn Serengeti out there, and I know I’m a leaf eater. So how do the herbivores stay alive? They stay alert, they run, and they don’t take risks. They see that danger coming a mile away. You don’t call a gazelle a pussy because he doesn’t fight back when the lions come.”

“And they stick together,” Erika said. “So is that how you see yourself? A gazelle?”

“Actually I was thinking rabbit, but that does sound better.”

“Sorry if that sounded mean,” Erika said. “I understand. You grew up in a dangerous time.”

“I’ve seen a lot,” I said. “I’ve seen what happens to heroes. You ever see a heroic gazelle? That’s what the lions want. And for the record, I think God must be terrified of a lot of things.”

“As for my Lord, He is what He is. It is not my place to question what He does, but please go on anyway, sir.” Her hands were clasped together in her lap as she gazed downwards at my spotless kitchen floor.

“God must be scared of failure, right? He must be afraid of what his own creations think of Him. Otherwise, why would He go through so much trouble to impress? Why would He make himself known at all?”

“Perhaps,” Erika said simply. She looked up and changed tact suddenly. “I picked out some clothes for you, if you want to get dressed. I’ll go with you. I want to see this bullet hole that you somehow miraculously survived. Maybe this Escher thinks you’re dead.”

I brightened a bit

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