The Lord of Opium(122)
Dr. Rivas struggled with the soldiers, but they only tightened their grip. “You can’t believe a seven-year-old! Children that age have no understanding of reality. And you need me, Glass Eye. You aren’t out of the woods yet. You need a heart monitor and another clone—”
Glass Eye swung at the doctor and struck him such a blow that Matt heard the man’s neck crack. Dr. Rivas slid to the floor with a look of immense surprise. He lay there, his eyes open, his body trembling for a moment before it became still.
That’s why I always got the better of Dabengwa, commented El Patrón. Poor impulse control.
Matt was too frozen to respond. It had been so quick! The doctor, who had maintained El Patrón’s zombie army for twenty years, who had created his clones, who had created Matt himself, was dead!
Happy Man Hikwa came to the door, supported by a shambling field eejit in a jumpsuit and floppy hat. His black general’s uniform was torn and smeared with blood. “Oh no.” He moaned. “You shouldn’t have done that, Glass Eye. Oh, no, no, no.”
Dabengwa looked like a man waking up from a trance. He seemed to have trouble focusing. “Where’ve you been?” he asked.
“A few of us went to that abandoned church in the forest,” said Happy Man. “But the damn stirabout ran out of energy. We stalled. And this—this monster came out of the church—seven feet tall, I swear! His neck was covered in scars.”
Daft Donald, thought Matt.
“Where are my men?” thundered the drug lord.
“Please don’t blame me, Glass Eye! There were enemies everywhere. We didn’t stand a chance. I was the only one who got away. I ran until I fell over a tree root and sprained my ankle. I saw this eejit and ordered him to help me.” Happy Man slumped and the eejit slumped too. Like most zombies, he tended to copy his master.
“We’ve got to go,” Happy Man bleated. “Please, Glass Eye. We can’t survive here. There aren’t enough of us. Make the Baby Patrón open the border.”
“Why am I plagued with such stupidity?” shouted Dabengwa. “Who told you to go joyriding when we’re in the middle of a war? I should have you skinned and nailed up on a wall as a warning to others.”
“I meant no harm,” babbled Happy Man. “I’ve always been your most loyal follower.”
“Drop him,” said Glass Eye. The eejit obediently opened his arms, and Hikwa fell to the floor with a loud shriek.
“Ai! It hurts! I need a doctor!”
“This is the treatment you get,” said Dabengwa, kicking Happy Man’s ankle. “Now you will open the holoport, boy, and end the lockdown.”
Matt gathered up his courage. “I’ll never do that,” he said, and braced himself for a blow. But it didn’t come. Instead, Glass Eye turned to Listen and grabbed her by the throat. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and she struggled for breath.
“You have seen what I can do. Think carefully.” Glass Eye loosened his grip slightly, and Listen gasped.
Matt dropped his hands to show compliance. He knew the man could snap the little girl’s neck. And he knew that nothing he tried would make the slightest difference. If he attacked, the soldiers would be on him. If he agreed to open the border, it would only postpone the inevitable. Ultimately, Glass Eye would not let either of them live.
Death then, he decided. It would trap the invaders, and Daft Donald and Cienfuegos could finish them off. Opium would remain sealed. Once, he had believed that the country would die without supplies, but that was before he had learned about the biosphere. When the rest of them were dead, the Mushroom Master would free his people and Opium would become the new biosphere.
Matt looked at Listen and hesitated. His hand brushed against a lump in his pocket, and suddenly he remembered El Patrón’s advice: Just because they took your weapons doesn’t mean you aren’t armed. He grabbed Tam Lin’s flashlight and turned it to maximum. A beam ten times the brightness of the sun shot out and struck Dabengwa’s eyes. The drug lord screamed and dropped Listen. He clawed at his face, making mindless groans. His whole body seemed to convulse, as though the various parts of it were at war with one another.
Matt turned off the flashlight. Even the reflection of it dazzled him, and he couldn’t see where to go. But a hand reached through the brilliance and dragged him away. “Good thing I had the sense to close my eyes,” a man said.
They ran until they got outside, and Matt’s vision began to recover. He saw the eejit with Listen slung over his shoulder. “Put me down. I can’t breathe,” she cried. She swayed and held on to him. “Crap! What happened back there?”