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No. No martyring. You promised her, Huff.
If I go to Kyle and give myself up, something I’m absolutely willing to do, I have no doubt I’ll end up dissected. Fine by me except that I made that promise to River. She asked one thing from me. One. And that was to stay alive and be with her.
I have to find a way to get her back.
Options, Huff. Think options.Morris is working on cracking the complete formula. If I tell Kyle, will that help me or entice him to work harder against me?
Answer: He’ll probably work harder to catch me.Possibly make me masturbate around the clock to supply his team with material if they catch me.
Nasty. That right there crosses all sorts of lines.
If I tell Kyle about River’s condition, will he feel sorry for her or use it against me?
Answer: Definitely use it against me. Also, he’ll find out about my powerful Mr. Love-juice, which leads back to lots of sperm samples.
Again, too many lines crossed there.
My only options are to bluff—tell him I’m done with River, and she means nothing to me—or to appeal to his sense of reason.
Kyle has no reason.He’s gone mad, so that leaves bluffing. I grab my phone to text him.
Me:You can keep River. Bitch is crazy. Should’ve left her at the psycho ward.
Next comes the second part of my plan. I do a quick search on my phone:Best place to spot celebrities. Rodeo Drive.
Where the hell are the paparazzi and celebrity-gawking tourists?The Beverly Hills streets are basically empty, and most of the stores are boarded up.People still think they’re all going to die.My plan is a complete bust.
For this to work, I need a raging amount of publicity. Kyle has to see me out in public, not a care in the world.
“Hey, are you Mr. Ultra Mega Love?” Some old guy holding a camera and wearing plaid shorts walks up. “Can I get a photo? No one else around.”
Geez. Thanks. “Sure. Why not?” All of two people will probably see the image, but whatever. I raise the sleeve of my checkered shirt and flex.
“Did you bring your cape?” he asks.
“No.” I only wore it once for River.
“Oh.” He walks away.
Great.What’s a guy got to do around here to get some major buzz?
I suddenly think of Luna, the reporter.
I dig my phone from my pocket and give her a call.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite hero-in-denial.”
“I’m actually in LA, not Egypt,” I joke, trying to be charming.
“Umm…”
That was a flop. I have no choice but to shoot straight. “Hey, I need your help.”
“Anything for you.”
“I need to know where I can be seen—you know, out having fun.”
“The entire city’s in lockdown. Haven’t you been paying attention to the news?”
