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He entered the control room and nodded at Avery, who sat, as he usually did, in front of the computer banks that operated not only the Wall but also the feedback from the Analyst. There were three in the room today to check the goings-on at the Wall: two women and a man, all longtime analysts at BIC.
As Bunting settled into his seat and opened his electronic tablet he noted that two of them were perfectly capable E-Fives and the other a top-level E-Four. Indeed, the E-Fives had been the best he had seen until Edgar Roy had entered his life and sent the possibilities quite into the stratosphere.
But now things had changed. As Avery had correctly pointed out previously, the information flow grew exponentially, outpacing the abilities of minds that a year ago could have handled it. Roy could handle it. But he didn’t have Edgar Roy anymore.
Bunting looked through the glass. The three Es were doing their best, but he could see that the throughput on the Wall data had been throttled back sixty percent. At this rate the conclusions reached would be worthless before the folks even memorialized their findings and sent their reports on up the chain. It simply wasn’t going to cut it.
He let this exercise go on for another five minutes and then looked despondently at Avery and flicked a finger across his neck.
Avery immediately spoke into the headset he wore. “Thank you all. We will be shutting the Wall down in five, four, three, two, one.”
He hit some keys and the screen became dark.
Bunting nearly fell into a chair and sat there staring at the floor. Foster was right. It was over. He was over. They’d probably kill him. And Roy next.
A man opened the control room door. “Mr. Bunting?”
He looked up.
“Secretary Foster wants to see you ASAP.”
Oh, God.
CHAPTER
52
SEAN THOUGHT IT would be a problem getting into Cutter’s Rock, especially after the murder of Carla Dukes. However, her absence seemed to have lessened the hurdles necessary for them to see the prisoner, even with Kelly Paul in tow.
Thus, the mighty gates had opened, the guards did their search, and very soon after that they were waiting in the visitor’s room for Edgar Roy.
Megan stood by the glass wall, Michelle beside her. Sean was watching the door. Kelly Paul paced, her gaze on the floor. Sean thought he knew what she was thinking. And she was probably right. Roy might react to seeing her and blow his cover of insanity.
The door opened and in came Edgar Roy. He was dressed the same, looked the same, smelled the same. He towered over the guards and over Sean and Michelle. Towered most of all over the petite Megan.
Sean heard it first, a long, low whistle that sounded like some tune Sean couldn’t place at the moment. He turned to find its source. Kelly Paul was against the wall, her face turned away from her brother. Sean whipped back around to Roy. The whistle had come right when Roy had been looking down, so his eyes could not be seen. Sean thought he noted the slightest flinch in Roy’s shoulder. They seated him behind the glass, locked him down to the floor ring. The guards slammed the door shut on the way out. Roy sat there, legs splayed out, face to the ceiling. Eyes fixed on that damn spot. As always.
Except for that flinch, thought Sean.
The whistled tune came again. Once again Sean turned. This time so did Michelle.
Kelly Paul was now facing her brother.
“Hello, Eddie, it’s good to see you,” she said, her voice calm, her smile genuine.
She walked toward him, curved around the glass wall, and stood in front of him. She did not bend down. In fact she seemed to be standing as tall as she could. Her hands came up to her chest.
Sean’s gaze flitted around the room and then, behind him, he saw it and wondered why he hadn’t before. A slight imperfection in the wall, up high. The camera lens was pointed right at the wall of glass, the chair. The prisoner. But now Paul was blocking its view of her brother.
Sean moved forward, skirted the glass wall, and came around to stand facing Paul. Now he understood why she had stood as tall as possible. The message she was holding was aligned perfectly with her brother’s angle of sight. She had written it in large block letters with a pencil.
I KNOW. E. BUNTING. FRAMED. SUSPICIONS?
Roy made no visible reaction to this, but as Sean glanced down at him, he could see that his eyes had finally come to life and that the tiniest fraction of a smile tugged at his lips as his image was safely shielded from the camera by his sister’s bulk.
The zombie, it seemed, had just arisen.
Paul started tapping her finger against the paper. She did it almost silently, but slowly and methodically. At first Sean couldn’t understand what she was doing. But then it finally hit him.
