Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
But I’m also watching it happen from the eyes of Shep.
Brose is standing next to me, laughing. Laughing! Like some maniacal supervillain. He throws his head back, looking up at the ceiling, and this laugh just comes out and fills up the room. He’s shouting, “We did it! We did it!”
But it’s not Brose.
It’s not him. It’s someone else inside him.
Because he’s a puppet too.
Brose grabs me, and this whole time I’m watching Collin on the floor with me, Olive-me, zip-tying my hands behind my back. And Amon is coming in now, and there are men, lots of men, trying to get control of the situation.
But none of that matters.
The only thing that matters is Brose.
He leans in to my ear and whispers, “Welcome to Chain Reaction, puppet. We think for you, you act for us.”
29 - Shep
She’s in my head! She’s in my head!
And words are flowing. Words I don’t understand but make perfect sense, nonetheless.
I think for you, you act for me.
And it’s in her voice. Olive’s voice.
A voice I now recognize.
My missing half. My partner.
Waters. Who is not Waters, but Olive.
My handler.
No.
I fight this realization.
It’s not right. This isn’t right.
But the woman’s voice is shushing me now. And then, I’m in a small room. A black room. Like the inside of a cube. I’m lying on the floor that is covered in a few inches of warm water and I’m looking up at a ceiling of pinprick lights.
A woman leans over, into my view. She is smiling and she is not Olive. “What’s the rule, puppet?” And she’s using Olive’s voice to say these words.
It’s so wrong, I can’t even process what I’m seeing and hearing.
“Puppet?” she asks. Her voice calm and sweet. Almost sing-songy. “Tell me the rule.”
“You think for me, I act for you.” It comes right out of my mouth, and in the next moment, I’m back in the jail. which is nothing but pure chaos.
Collin has Olive on the ground, zip-tying her hands behind her back. Amon is behind him, facing me and the other men who rushed in to help. They are all armed. He’s yelling, “We need to get her upstairs. Be ready!”
Be ready for what?
Collin gets up, holding on to Olive’s bound hands, bringing her with him. He’s out of breath and for the first time, I see panic in those weird eyes of his. He looks right at me. “Are you OK?”
Which doesn’t even make sense to me, so I don’t answer.
He doesn’t wait. Just turns to Amon and starts saying something about upstairs.
But while he’s doing this, Olive and I lock eyes.
She smiles at me and I smile back.
Inside my head I can hear her voice. It’s like she’s really there. Like she’s really inside me. I think for you, you act for me. Do you understand, puppet?
There’s something wrong with that voice. It’s warped. Too low of a pitch. A little bit shaky and uneven. Almost like a man’s voice. But not a young man—an old one.
Do you understand, puppet?
Collin is dragging Olive past me now. I get pushed out of the way, like I’m of no consequence here. Amon makes room for them to get through. Then he waves his hand at me. “Let’s go, Shep. Get out of there.”
I follow Collin, but we don’t get far because there are a lot of men down here in this small space and everyone is trying to figure out who needs to leave first. So there’s a bottleneck at the stairs.
And this is when I look down at Collin’s hip and see his sidearm.
The very same sidearm that Olive tried to kill him with just yesterday.
Do you understand, puppet?
Oh, yeah. I get it. Chain Reaction.
I reach for the gun, snap it out of the holster, and I’m pulling the weapon back, aiming it at Collin’s surprised face as he turns.
Those eyes of his stare right back at me as I hold the gun mere inches from his forehead.
He sees his mistake. I watch the thoughts form in real time.
Do it! The old man’s voice is yelling in my head. Do it!
That’s not Olive inside me.
Puppets.
That’s all we are.
Just puppets.
These thoughts of mine manifest as hesitation and it’s long enough for Amon to tackle me to the ground and wrestle Collin’s gun away.
Everything that happens next is just a whirlwind of confusion.
So much yelling, and zip ties, and being pulled up to my feet and marched up the stairs.
I see the surrounding hallway. We enter the church and there’s suddenly too much space. And the voices, my God, the voices are screaming. Not just the old man, but another man—who is probably Ambrose—and the woman who was in my head, my partner, who was not Olive, and me, of course. I’m screaming too because I don’t know what the fuck is happening and every one of these voices except my own is telling me to do things.