Generation of Liars Read Free Page B

knows that the disk exists,” he paused to wet his lips, “and
they are desperately seeking it.”
    “If they find it before we do, they
can restore our identities and then it’s all over, right?”
    “Exactly. Which is why we must
ensure that we find it first. Before the government, before Enoch Sprites, and
before anyone else in the world. We will need to be meticulous. Our ducks need
to be in a row at all times. But that shouldn’t be a problem. I can tell how
badly you want to hide from your secret, Alice.”
    I shot my eyes back to the kid in
the Yale cap. “Why did Rabbit agree to help you?”
    “Rabbit got into a little trouble
at school and he would like to keep the past in the past. Lucky for us, he’s
somewhat of a boy wonder when it comes to computers. His technical wizardry
will prove priceless.”
    “How long will it take us to find
the disk?”
    “Good question. There isn’t a
timeline for this kind of work. It’s messy. However long it takes, you will
work for me, and then I will let you go, and you can become any identity you
wish. I have a way of arranging that. But now that you know about the existence
of the disk, you can never walk away until it has been destroyed. The only two
options are success or death.”
    “According to who?” I asked.
    “According to me.” He shuffled the
cards in his lap.
    I took a hard swallow as the train
grunted and pulled away from the station. Once it climbed above ground on the
tracks, daylight breathed onto the windows, showing my reflection, and I didn’t
recognize myself beneath the twisted crown of red hair. I had an instinct to
run away from Motley right then and there, before I got too deep down the
rabbit hole, into that dark place he warned me about. It’s an instinct that has
never gone away, even after three years of working for him. If it hadn’t been
for the terrible secret inside my sneaker, I would have run that first day.
    Motley nested into his seat and pulled
a pack of Dunhill cigarettes and silver Zippo lighter from his breast pocket.
He sifted a cigarette from the pack and held it out to me. I grabbed it, not
sure which end was up, and popped it into my mouth like candy. Motley held the
lighter under my lips, hesitating before igniting it to ask me a question. “Do
you know what a thumb drive looks like, Alice?”
    “Yes. I use them for saving papers
I write for my university classes.”
    “Good, that means you will know how
to identify what we’re looking for.”
    “Just an ordinary thumb drive?” I
managed to say it without dropping the cigarette from my amateur lips. I was
impressed with myself.
    His thumb flicked across the gear
on the lighter and a hot, wavy flame sprang up. “I prefer to call it the
dynamite stick.”
    I coughed at my first inhale,
curling my chest forward to squelch the burning in my lungs. A ticket taker
stopped in the aisle beside our seats. She had boring features and square hair
and her coat looked stale. “Excuse me, sir, I’m going have to ask both of you
to extinguish those cigarettes. There is simply no smoking permitted inside the
train cars.”
    Motley didn’t lift his eyes. His
hand slithered into his pocket to slide out his wallet. When he unfurled it I
saw that it was fat with hundred dollar bills, and it was then that I noticed
the glistening gold watch latched to his wrist. He discretely pushed a handful
of money into the ticket taker’s hand. Her hand tightened around the money and
disappeared into the pocket on her stale coat. I didn’t see her again for the
rest of the trip. The light caught the glitter on Motley’s wrist watch a few
more times and I began understanding that I was sitting beside a very wealthy
man. My hands had stopped shaking by now. I was starting to feel more
comfortable. Maybe this might be fun, like a game.
    Motley pivoted inward towards me.
His hand brushed my cheek. “I like your hair like this, the red really suits
you,” he told me. “I think you are going