Love and Darkness (The Cause Book 2) by Randall Farmer

said.
    “Focus,” the man responded.  His voice was harsh, magnificently ruined.  He didn’t blink as he kept his eyes on his Focus.
    “Tell these fine people what you do for us here.”
    “I’m a groundskeeper at the Autumn Hills Country Club,” he said.
    Suzie nodded and smiled faintly at Tonya.  “Since you’re so interested in all this new technology floating around these days, I’ve decided to show you some of mine.”  She smiled wider.  “Consider this a gift.”
    She put her hands on the man and he screamed.  Horrible, mad screams, the screams of a mindless animal.  He thrashed wildly, but Suzie didn’t react.  She kept her hand on his head, and he only screamed louder.
    Tonya metasensed what Suzie did and her blood ran cold.  She had driven the man into juice withdrawal.  Tonya, so inured to cruelty over the years, had never seen Suzie’s withdrawal imprinting tricks first hand.  She wanted to scream with the man.  She closed her jaw tight with an effort of will and stood like a statue.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Delia weeping.
    Tonya could offer her no support.  Not here.
    Suzie didn’t stop.  The man sweated blood, little red rivers seeping from his pores.  He thrashed and sprayed those drops of agony over the room and the people in it.  A few drops landed on Suzie’s cheek and she smiled.
    After more than a minute Suzie took her hand off the man.  He collapsed down on the sweaty and bloody bed, gasping for breath, woeful.
    “I know you always wondered why it was called ‘the wet’,” Suzie said, with her inhuman smile.  “Now you understand.”
    Tonya turned away, unable to face the man and his cruel Focus.  Her head throbbed and she wanted to break into tears.  This was such a terrible place, the bad juice almost alive, snarling at her like one of Suzie’s dogs.
    “We’re not done yet, Tonya,” Suzie said.  She sneered.  “I’m teaching you.  Pay attention.”
    Tonya turned back.  She didn’t bother to answer.  Beside her, Delia shivered.
    The man kept his eyes open now, and stared unblinking at Suzie.  His face was different somehow.  Different muscle tension, a different kind of expression on his face.  A different person, now.
    “Now, John, tell my friends here what you do,” Suzie said.
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said, in a voice so wounded it made Tonya cringe.  The timber and cadence had completely changed.  Even his accent was different.  “I’m a janitor down at the VFW hospital.”
    Tonya wondered how many people John actually was.
    “Do you appreciate my technology, Tonya?” Suzie said.  “Do you understand how useful this can be?”
    “Ma’am,” Tonya said, at a loss for words.
    Suzie’s mocking smile disappeared, and her face became cold as ice.  “Do your job for me, Tonya.  Give me your real best effort.  If you can’t manage to make my work important to you, then one of your own people can lie here on this bed.”  She looked over at Delia’s shivering form and smiled her cruel smile.  “Delia, here, for instance.  She would fit nicely in my household.”
    Delia gasped and stepped back.  “Suzie…” Tonya said, cringing from Suzie’s verbal gut punch.
    “Don’t ever think you can get sloppy about the work you do for me,” Suzie said, arctic cold.  “If you want to protect your people, you do your job right .”
    “Yes, Suzie.  I understand,” Tonya said, forcing the air into her lungs by the force of her charisma.  “I understand completely.”
    She wanted to weep.
     
    Gail Rickenbach: September 3, 1972
    “By time of day?” Gail asked.  She peered over Mary Sibrian’s shoulder as the Arm plotted out their next several hours of driving, stone faced, on maps laid on the steering wheel of the motionless car.  Mary wore all red: a red silk tunic, loose red pants, and red boots.  She had dark hair and dark eyes and spoke with a faint Spanish accent.  Gail always found it odd the Arms didn’t