Their last conversation has played over and over in Keller’s head so many times, if it was a tape it’d be barely visible through the static. As he watches Toby sleep, he clicks rewind once more.
If you really love me, then leave me alone.
Toby’s voice tight.
I loved alcohol. I loved heroin. I had to put them behind me, because they were poison.
Toby’s voice firm.
Death. You are death.
Toby’s voice soft.
Let me live.
His voice a whisper.
Motherfucker!
His voice an angry shout.
No! No!
His voice a pained scream.
For Toby, the tape ends there. For Keller, the tape keeps running.
His spirit steps up out of his broken body and looks up at the only person he’s ever really loved.
I can’t. I can’t.
---
“Chris.”
Keller looks over his shoulder at Vern, who stands near the door, arms crossed, smirking. “How’s Sleeping Beauty?”
“What do you want?”
Vern jerks his chin. “We got company.”
“Keller.”
Said steps into the pod, followed by Omar and Stanislofsky. Keller laughs sharply.
“You serious? Man, I was joking.” He raises an eyebrow at the Russian. “The fuck’s your problem?”
Stanislofsky grins at him. “I like a challenge. Nothing personal.” He raises his hands apologetically.
“Fine with me. 3 against 13, you got no chance. Have a front row seat if you want.” Vern looks for a moment like he wants to object, but seems to change his mind, settling his features into a scowl. Keller turns his attention towards Said. “What, this was all you could muster? Couldn’t get Cyril?” Said just stares back at him, stone-faced; Omar responds for him.
“Yo, Jericho’s buggin’, man. Him and that crispy motherfucker got it out for O’Reily. They got a whole gang together.” He looks around at the present “gang” assembled outside the pod. “Yo, what the fuck is happening, man?”
“Full moon, baby.” Torquemada’s voice oozes in. He’s keeping his distance from the others, half inside the pod, half out – allowing the glass to bisect him. “You got 5 minutes,” he says to Keller.
“Thanks.”
“You’re part of this, too?” Said asks him. Torquemada’s good eye drifts over.
“I’m not part of anything,” he replies coolly.
“You can be.” Said steps closer to him, and Torquemada backs away slightly, only his face through the glass, now. “Help us stop this madness.”
Torquemada smiles, unfriendly. “Why, sugar, I don’t believe you’ve spoken 2 words to me since my demise. But you need my help, now, so we’re allies?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so, baby.” His gaze flits over to Alvarez on the bottom bunk. “I’m here to watch. That’s all.” He pulls away entirely, leaving them.
Keller turns back to Vern. “Get everyone ready.” Vern nods curtly, steps out, leaving him with Said and crew.
“You ain’t gonna be able to stop me,” Keller says.
“I have to try.”
“Why? What’s the point?” He laughs. “Man, don’t you ever get tired? Every time you’ve ever gotten involved in other people’s shit, all you do is make shit worse.”
“I could say the same for you.” Said’s voice is calm.
“Nah. Everything I’ve done is for me and Beech. And up until the end, it was working out fine.”
“Fine?” He breaks into an incredulous grin, shakes his head. “Oh, Keller. Even you can’t be so blind to how destructive you’ve been.”
“I’ve built back as much as I’ve destroyed. You, on the other hand, have failed consistently at everything you tried to create.” He nods at Omar. “Got your own personal cheerleader as a reminder.”
Said’s jaw clenched. “Those circumstances were beyond my control.”
“These ones are too. But, like I said, you can stay here if you want. It don’t matter to me.” He looks down at Beecher again.
“This story ends my way.”
---
They’re arranged carefully, in ranks, spaced out evenly to avoid touching. Keller, Vern, Said and Torquemada in the front. Behind them, Omar, Stanislofsky, Adam Guenzel and Andrew Schillinger. The 6 Aryans surround the room, embedded into the walls. Outside the pod stands Metzger, Hernandez and Schibetta.
Somewhere above Oswald State, the full moon hangs red in the sky.
Keller nods at Vern, who nods at the others. The ritual begins.