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The point is, Huff has become a symbol. Not of the doom to come, but of hope, of standing up to the doom. Because he’s on our side, and that makes us feel invincible. He is the people’s superweapon.
“Huff,” I say, “I’m not here to be your shrink, kiss your ass, or inflate your ego. You gotta figure out what your place is and what it means to you. But I’m telling you right now that you’ve created a ripple that’s turned into a wave, and that wave is about to change everything. You can’t stop now.”
“Thank you,” he says dryly. “I absolutely called so I could feel the weight of humanity on my shoulders.”
“Oh, grow up. This is bigger than you, so you’re just going to have to grow a pair and cope.”
“And again, I thank you for the talk. This is 1-800-shit-on-my-life, right?”
“Okay. Sorry. Why did you call?”
“If they’re listening, we should talk in person.”
I look down at my pink flamingo jammies. I just got ready for bed, but what the hell? He’s seen me in worse outfits. I literally dressed in a trash bag the other night when we got hammered. I told him I was going to talk to the monster (barf) and needed protection because I drank too much. He laughed hysterically and took off his shirt and tie to join me with his own Hefty.
“Kitchen,” I say, so he knows where to find me.
Suddenly, Huff is standing next to my refrigerator, looking, well, hot as usual in jeans and a white T-shirt that stretches over his broad chest. He looks a little red up top. His face resembles an apple.
Before I can ask what happened, he’s got me scooped up into his arms. Suddenly, we’re standing on a beach lit up with tiki torches in front of a beautiful two-story cabin.
“Holy crap. That was incredible,” I say, my heart beating with adrenaline.
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Thought we’d be better off talking here.”
“What’s going on?”
“Kyle put River in a psychiatric hospital. It’s a trap, and there’s no way I can get to her. There’re agents everywhere, and I’m guessing they’re armed to the teeth.”
“You think they’d shoot you?”
“What do they care if I’m dead or alive? They just want to pick me apart and figure out what makes me tick.”
“As any evil empire would,” I say dryly.
“Unfortunately, I’m not bulletproof. At least, I don’t think I am, and it’s not something I can easily test.”
“So what can I do to help?”
“Go inside? Start filming and asking questions? I just need a distraction so I can get to River.”
“If the place is surrounded, they’re not going to let me anywhere close.”
“Are you sure?” Huff asks. “Because maybe as a member of the press, you could get in there easier than I could.”
I shake my head. Huff has no idea how much I want to help him, but I can’t see Kyle or his cronies letting me in. Then there’s the whole thing about risking my cameraman’s life along with my own.
“I’m sorry, Huff, but if we storm in there with cameras, at best we’ll be arrested. At worst, we’ll be shot. Likely, Kyle will detain us on bogus charges.”
I instantly see the look of frustration on Huff’s handsome face, his strong jaw working.
“Why are you starting to look like a ripe tomato again?” I ask.
“It’s a side effect. When my emotions get too intense, my body starts to heat up, and I lose control.”
“You mean you kill people?”
“Fuck no,” he snaps. “I mean I want to. I want to get violent, but I always stop myself.”
