Embers & Ash Read Free Page B

hidden object or location, and to unearth the ultimate power buried beneath it. If anything, his focus on saving my family—our “noble quest”—had increased. But Sec-C had been designed to burrow into other parts of his mind, the places where a person locks up the most personal thoughts about himself. He despised his appearance, with the heaviness of his body weighing him down mentally as well. For most of his life, he’d considered himself capable of little more than consuming mass quantities of Munchitos and movies. Sec-C made him feel attractive, but it went far beyond that; it made him believe he could take on the world, and win. Since those positive feelings had dissipated, his greatest fear was regression—not to Sec-C, of course, but to resuming an existence, as he’d put it, as a useless lump.
    It was the PAWS talking.
    He’d researched it online—Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome—PAWS for short, which was ironic, since Harry, our little Italian greyhound, provided Doug with daily doses of sympathy and affection. The main characteristic of the syndrome, common among ex-addicts, was intense, needling self-doubt. It also came with panic attacks, minor and major, brought on by stressful situations. Trembling, sweating, loss of breath, dizziness—Doug had felt them all over the past month. The ones he hadn’t experienced, and dreaded most, were hallucinations (the freeze response, where stress renders a person unable to move), and aphasia (the temporary inability to speak).
    That didn’t seem to be a problem now.
    His mouth was going a mile a minute, asking me about the Russians, how I’d escaped, if anyone had seen me. As he finished wrapping my hand in gauze, I told him everything about Skull Head and Goatee, careful not to exclude a single detail, and then put the cherry on top.
    â€œElzy,” he said quietly. “How did she get control of the Russian mob?”
    â€œHow did she infiltrate the cops?” I said with a shrug. “She grew up with a dad in the Outfit. Elzy knows a lot of tricks and lots of bad people.”
    Doug nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a square, steel lighter. He lit one, coughed smoke, and said, “Let’s think this through.”
    It was my turn to lift eyebrows. “You’re
smoking
?”
    â€œCan’t sneak anything past you.”
    â€œDoug, what the hell? Since
when
?”
    â€œSince recently, okay?” he answered, smoke snaking above his head. “And what the hell is that nicotine has a calming effect on people with PAWS. Besides, all great detectives . . . Humphrey Bogart as Philip Marlowe, Jack Nicholson as J.J. Gittes . . . required a cigarette to help them think.”
    â€œYou know what it makes me think? Rotten teeth, lung cancer, and addiction. Seriously, you just got one monkey off your back and now you’re starting all over.”
    â€œRelax, Surgeon General. I smoke Chippewa Naturals. They’re non–habit forming. Look, the package says so, right there.”
    â€œOh, well, as long as it says so. Who would ever lie about tobacco?” I said, staring at him. “You’re self-medicating, Doug. When are you going to quit?”
    â€œWhen you
start
self-medicating,” he replied, blowing a smoke ring. “One little aspirin, every morning.”
    It was a staring standoff until I said, “Let’s think this Elzy thing through.”
    â€œAs if it’s a movie,” he said. “Act one. She sends Poor Kevin and a bunch of cops to capture you and the notebook . . .”
    â€œSo she can gain control of ultimate power,” I said. “She’s not sure what it is, doesn’t even know it’s
called
ultimate power. But she knew there was
something
in the notebook that could help her take over the Outfit.”
    â€œBut she fails to get her hands on it. She