“We’ve got to abandon the plan,” said Arthur.
“Just … let me think.”
Bunny was out of action, which meant him leading Breida out of there was a non-starter. The thing was, it was now or never. First, Smithy was in the Warden’s office, and they had to get him out or else he would end up in prison for the unusual reason of having broken into one. He could at least share a cell with someone he knew.
Second, if Bunny didn’t get out today, Whiteside got out of solitary first thing in the morning and he’d blow Bunny’s cover. That was assuming Bunny lasted that long. The gangs had come after him once already. In another day, the entire prison would be howling for his blood as opposed to just the half that seemed to want it now.
Dionne still couldn’t figure out exactly what had happened, but clearly Bunny was considered to have broken the rules around the Quiet Man, hence the attack.
She sat down on the couch and held her head in her hands. It had all fallen apart. It was a total mess.
She kicked the table in frustration and then looked up at the screen.
A little row of icons showed the comms connections. Zoya’s was flashing. She needed an answer.
Dionne reached forward to press the button to open the channel and then stopped herself.
“He went back inside.”
“Yeah,” said Arthur, not seeing her point.
“Bunny. He went back into the cell. Onto the bed. He couldn’t have …”
Dionne hit another button.
Voices they didn’t recognise filled the room.
“This is bullshit.”
“Such bullshit.”
“Why have we got to carry this fat bastard down six flights?”
“Forget that, dummy. Don’t you get what just happened? The warden is going to throw a shit fit.”
“I ain’t worried about him. Blake, on the other hand …”
Arthur looked at Dionne, his brow furrowed. “What the hell?”
Dionne clapped her hands. “McGarry, you magnificent Irish bastard. The earpiece! Before he conked out, he must have put the earpiece in.”
“But—”
Dionne silenced Arthur with a wave. She reached forward, pressed another button and spoke into the mic. “Bunny. Can you hear me? Can you hear me?”
“I wasn’t even supposed to be working today,” said one of the guards.
“Shut up with that shit.”
They heard a loud groan.
“Look, this guy’s coming round.”
“Maybe he can walk the rest of the way?”
Dionne raised her voice. “Bunny, if you can hear me, say something.”
There was a crackle of static and then came a voice, weakened but conscious.
“Not a biccie. ’Tis a scone.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Martha was enjoying herself.
This wasn’t the address she had planned to give, but she was very pleased with how she had improvised. Turning a challenge into an opportunity, delivering a sermon from the back of a pick-up truck was real Messiah stuff.
“The reason I brought you out here, brothers and sisters, is that I wanted you, the true believers, to be the first to know. Where you are standing now will be the location of the very first full-time temple for the Celestial Church of New Hope.”
The crowd cheered. It wasn’t going to be, but still. Freddie, wherever the hell he was, had floated the idea and it made sense. Maybe they could build it here. There was nothing else around, the land would be cheap. She resisted the urge to mention it being named after her. That was for someone else to “suggest”.
“That is right. Soon we will have somewhere you, the chosen people, can come year-round and commune with one another and bathe yourself in the glorious spirit of our celestial saviours. Make no mistake, our time is coming, and the time is at hand …”
Diller stood watching and listening to the speech. It sounded as if Martha was about to wrap it up and lead her people back to Clown Town for a distinctly average lunch buffet and the chance to contribute yet more money to her church.
He looked at the people around him. They weren’t bad or stupid, just maybe a little lost and lonely. He could relate to that. They wanted to belong to something. Unfortunately, these con artists had got their teeth into them, and were endeavouring to suck every last cent out of them.
They needed a sign.
A real sign.
You couldn’t fault Zoya’s sense of timing. Diller happened to be in the perfect spot. Martha was standing with the plateau behind her and as she extended her hands and roared at the top of her voice that the day of judgement was coming, he heard Zoya’s voice over the earpiece discreetly hidden in his ear: “Big Bird is go.”
It took Martha a few seconds to realise the gasp from the crowd wasn’t their shock at the last line of her speech. After all, she ended each one the same way. She had her eyes closed and arms extended. She opened one to look around. People stood there, mouths open wide and pointing at her. No, not at her. Behind her.
She turned around and looked up.
“Holy shit!”
It really was one hell of a speech.
Behind her, about a mile away, a large, silver, disc-like spacecraft was hovering, having just appeared from behind the hill.
Behind her, a woman screamed, “They’re here!”
Martha stood there, open-mouthed.
Then, the ship started to move away from them at a steady pace.
It wasn’t necessary, but as Diller climbed into the cab of the Winnebago, he stood on the foot plate and roared at the top of his lungs, “Quick! Follow that spaceship!”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Correction Officer Fred Merkel’s day had started OK, got way worse, and was now
