Memory Man

My genie. My wish come true. Death.

Plastic badge, he had thought right before the epiphany had struck him. A plastic cop. Not a real cop. A cop who hurt you. Giles Evers.

And from my words, you lumped me right in with him. And maybe I can understand that, because right at that moment you probably were the most vulnerable you would ever be.

He recalled those eyes as the deepest, most shocked pair he had ever seen. But he hadn’t registered it, because he had been very nervous standing up in front of strangers to talk about his future.

His mind stopped whirring and he returned to the present. He said to Wyatt, “That’s why you singled me out, right? ‘Bro’? Brotherhood of cops. Brotherhood of football players, because I was one of them too? Everyone at the institute knew about that. But not your bro, their bro. Giles Evers and his bunch? But I came here to tell you that I didn’t know what had happened to you. If I had I wouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry. I wanted to be a cop because I wanted to help people. Not hurt them like Evers did you.”

They drove on. Neither one of them had spoken and Decker began to wonder why. He figured he would keep going until something he said drew a response. They might be working up the nerve to do what they needed to do to him. But then again, the pair had killed so many people that he doubted they needed much preparation to put a bullet in him.

“I met Clyde Evers. He told me all about what happened at the high school in Utah. So now I know why you did what you did at Mansfield. But maybe you have something you want to add?” He looked at her expectantly.

The eyes flashed once more. But they weren’t looking at him. They were looking at Leopold.

In his peripheral Decker saw the gun muzzle bob up and down ever so slightly. When you nod your head your hand sometimes moved in the same direction. So Leopold was calling the shots. That was telling. And maybe helpful for what Decker had come here to do.

Because these two weren’t the only ones on a mission. So was Amos Decker. He hadn’t come here to simply die, although that was a very real possibility.

Wyatt said, “I think it speaks for itself, don’t you?”

Her voice was deeper than when she was a woman, and deeper than when she had spoken to him in the role of Billy the mop boy. It was amazing how she was able to modulate it. But the tone was far less important than the words. She didn’t care. There was no remorse. There was nothing behind the eyes. She was thirty-six now. And he doubted she had had an easy, normal day in the last thirty of them. That couldn’t help but change you. How could you respect or appreciate or care about a world and the people in that world when they loathed the fact that you shared their planet?

“Did you kill the people who raped you? I mean other than Giles Evers?”

“Well, that would have been a little obvious,” said Wyatt. “So I chose symbolism over literalness.”

Decker felt his face flush at these cruel words. His wife and daughter had been reduced to symbols of a warped mind seeking revenge?

Decker felt Leopold’s breath on his cheek. He could smell garlic and stomach bile, but no alcohol. That was good. He didn’t want a drunk holding a gun against his head. But the guy took drugs too. And you couldn’t smell drugs on someone’s breath.

He couldn’t see the tattoo of the twin dolphins, because Leopold’s sleeve covered it. But the tat was there; he knew that. It was real. It had all been in Leopold’s file. All of it. Decker had memorized every word of that file. The crime against his family. Every detail. And the file on Evers and Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt. And the payoff from Evers. And the money that was there now. And the “Justice Denied” website. It had been interesting stuff. All very interesting.

“I guess I can see you taking that position. I mean, the victims at Mansfield were i

“I know you don’t feel pity or sympathy or empathy anymore,” said Wyatt. “Because I don’t either. So don’t even bother. I’m not stupid. I’m just like you.”

The hell you are, Decker thought.

He said, “We found your mom and dad. They’ll get a proper burial now. Not sure how you feel about that. But you made your point with them. ME said they’d been there a long time. So they’ll be buried.”

The muzzle pressed harder against Decker’s skin.

Decker continued, “My daughter never lived to your age when you were raped. About six years shy.”

“Six years, one month, and eighteen days,” corrected Wyatt. “She died before her tenth birthday. Or, more accurately, I killed her three days before her tenth birthday.”

Decker felt his anger edge up, which was the last thing he needed.

“Actually, three days, four hours, and eleven minutes,” he corrected.

He locked gazes with Wyatt in the mirror. Without taking his eyes off her he said, “Are you a hyper too, Sebastian?”

“No, he’s not,” said Wyatt. “Just you and me are the freaks.”

“You’re not a freak. Neither am I.”

“Oh, excuse me, I wasn’t aware that you had ovaries. My mistake.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Dear Mom and Dad saw my rape as a way to get rich. You know what my father told me?”

“What?” asked Decker. He had not expected this outpouring from Wyatt. Especially not after her first terse words. But now he realized that she needed to talk. She needed to say things, get things out. Before she killed him. It was all part of a process. Her process.

And mine too.

“He said it was high time that I brought something positive into their lives. As though my rape was something positive in their lives. That’s what he meant. And they took Clyde Evers’s money and built themselves this castle in the sky. And they never let me step inside it. That was my home, you know. I bought it, not them.”

“I can see that.”

“They never even told me they had moved. They sent me away to a mental rehab facility. When I came home a week later they were gone. I was on my own. They just abandoned me.”

“They were cruel, ignorant, and wrong, Belinda.”

She looked away from the mirror. “Who cares? Now they’re just dead.”

“I died too. Not once but twice.”

He saw the eyes flash at him in the mirror once more.

“On the football field. After the hit. They brought me back twice, maybe they shouldn’t have bothered. Then I wouldn’t have said what I did to you and all of those people would still be alive. One life to save all those others. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Maybe it would have been,” said Wyatt. “But you didn’t die. Just like I didn’t die. I climbed out of that Dumpster. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have just died.”

Her voice trailed off with this last part and Decker wasn’t sure, but he wondered if that constituted remorse, or at least as close as Wyatt would ever get to it now.

“I see my family’s murders in blue,” said Decker, drawing another stare from Wyatt. “I know you don’t suffer from synesthesia. It’s odd seeing things in color that should have none. It’s one of the things that scared the crap out of me when I woke up in the hospital and found out I was a different person.”

“Well, I was two people to begin with,” Wyatt shot back. “And after they raped and beat me nearly to death I became someone else entirely. So that makes three. A little crowded in someone my size.” There was not a trace of mirth in her tone. She was being deadly serious. Decker would have expected nothing less.

“You chose male over female? Why?”

“Men are predators. Women are their prey. I chose never to be the prey again. I chose to be the predator. For that I needed a full set of balls and a tankful of testosterone. Now I’ve got them and all is right with my world.”