The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)

Some Talk Over Tacos

Previously: "Music and the Savage Beast" 

"Yeah, this'll work," Number Five says as he studies his face in the screen of the cell phone. He touches his nose and lips and cheeks with questioning fingertips. "No one'll be able to spot I'm not the real guy." He lowers the phone and looks up at you. Kirkham's glasses are resting on the sofa beside his hip, along with the toothpick that you removed from Kirkham's mouth while the mask was duplicating him. "Do you want me acting like him too?"

"After we leave here, and any time there's someone not of our kind around," you reply. "It's just us now, so you can put his personality to one side."

It's very quiet up in Kelsey's game room. Even the heaters—which are on, for it is a cool and overcast day—are only a soft white noise. Number Four stands behind your shoulder, looking down her nose at Number Five, who is sitting where Kirkham had sat, in much the same leg-sprawling pose, looking up at you with a dead-eyed curiosity. You doubt the expression in Number Five's eyes is all that much different the one Kirkham habitually wore.

"Number Four, Two, and Five," he muses as he ticks off the names of your trio against his fingertips with a thumb. "So is there a One and Three someplace? Are there any more of us?"

"You're the latest, but we'll be making more. Number One is Chelsea Cooper. Number Three is Steve Patterson." Too late you remember that Will Prescott is out there too, but you dismiss him for now. He can be Number Six, you decide, and I'll tell the others I made the replacement by myself.

"Is there a pattern or a plan here?"

It disturbs you, slightly, that he is so bold in his questions and in his looks. Save for the occasional "boss" that he drops into his conversation, and a lack of body behind his soft voice, even now he could pass for the real David Kirkham.

"Yes. We're replacing people at the school with duplicates."

"Everyone?"

"Just certain people for now. We picked David because he gives us a path into the ... underbelly of the school. For when we decide to plant some duplicates down there."

If this was real Kirkham, he would probably smirk, but Number Five contents himself with a short but thoughtful silence. "Okay. Do you already know who you want to replace down there, or are you taking suggestions?"

"There'll be time for suggestions later. For now—" A sense of urgency has been prodding at you for the last minute or so. "For now, it's enough that we've got you in for him. We should go." You glance at Number Four. "It'll be dinnertime soon."

"Do we need to talk about the string quartet any more?" Number Five asks as he slides Kirkham's glasses on. "Or was the deal he was pitching you okay?"

"There was no gig. It was just bait to lure him out here."

Again, you would expect a smirk, but Number Five only says, "Played him like a fiddle, huh?" as he plucks up the toothpick.

* * * * *

Down at the car, you pause while putting the keys into the ignition. You feel no hunger, but Kirkham had suggested getting a bite afterward, you do feel a kind of pressure to eat. It's a pressure you've felt on some mornings, when you've risen before Kim's father is up, and other times when you've been alone at a mealtime. But in the presence of other people, like at school at lunchtime, you've felt actual hunger. It puzzles you enough that you ask Number Five, "Are you hungry?"

After a pause, he says, "No, but I want to eat," which is very close to how you feel. So you suggest stopping at McDonald's, which is more or less on the way back to town, but Number Five says that he can't afford that, and suggests Taco Bell instead.

"Remember, we're going to be around other people now," you caution him as you park. "We need to be Kim and David."

"Whatever you say, boss," Number Five replies, and it glance over sharply at the cobra-like menace that has slithered back into his voice. He's giving you a sidelong look, and the corners of his mouth pull up slightly.

You order at the front but take your trays to a far corner beside the restrooms, where you can eat without too much fear of eavesdropping. Number Five opens the conversation. "So what do I tell Kirkham's music friends about that gig?"

"Do you have to tell them anything?"

"He already told them he was going out to talk to Number— Kelsey." He wrenches off a bite of a taco. "'M surprised they're not already texting me about it," he mumbles around a mouthful of food.

"Tell them it didn't work out. Kelsey wouldn't meet your price."

"Yeah, well, no shit. Kirkham was asking way too fucking much."

"It was quite a deal," you agree.

"It was the only way he was ever going to be able to fuck Kelsey Blankenship, that's for motherfucking sure." He takes another harsh bite from his taco. "Fucking her out of some money, that was the idea."

You linger over your meal without eating, studying him until he notices you staring. "What?"

"What did David think of Kim?" you ask, for you're conscious that it's something Kim would like to know. And you're only asking it, you realize, because you turned her personality back on when you came inside.

"He liked her," Number Five says after a fractional pause, and rips another bite off his taco.

"Did he like a lot of girls?"

He chews and swallows before answering. "Sure, if you don't want the complicated answer."

"What's the complicated answer?"

He shrugs. "I don't think he liked hardly anyone. At least, that's what it feels like to me, assuming you copied him right when you passed all his shit on to me. Yeah, I'd fuck you, boss, fuck you 'til the top of your head popped off and my cum came foaming out. Don't worry, though, I'm not gonna put a move on you. But most girls he only liked for pussy, or the chance of it."

"He told Kim she was something special."

Number Five tosses the rest of the taco into his mouth, and straightens back in the chair. "That only meant he wanted to fuck her and fuck up anyone who made life hard for her," he says as he chews. "That was his idea of being, I dunno, chivalrous."

You're reminded of Joshua Call, and that awkward, terrifying way he offered to take care of Kim. If anyone ever messes with you, Kim, he told her, you let me know, and I'll mess them up. Mess them up so bad they'll never mess with anyone ever again. If those weren't his exact words, they are close. And now Number Five has told you that David Kirkham felt much the same way. Is there something about Kim that makes orcs and goblins want to do things for her?

"Was there anyone else he felt that way about?" you ask.

"Sure. Andrea Varnsworth, Chelsea Cooper, Cindy Vredenburg. Almost any of the cheerleaders."

"He put Kim up there with ... them?"

He unwraps his second taco. "No, not the way you're thinking. Kim was adorable. But there's lots of adorable girls he felt that way about. He gave that talk to a lot of 'em."

"What talk?"

He pauses in the act of raising the second taco to his mouth. "You want me to give it to you again?"

"Later, not here. But who were some of the girls he gave it to?"

He answers with a full mouth. "Oh, Katy Conlee. Bethany Lewis. Ximena Calderon. Those are just the ones off the top of my head."

"You mean, he told them they were ... special? Why did he give them that talk?"

"Why do you think? Because he thought it would get him laid. It only worked once, but that was enough." He tears off another bite of his taco. "So he kept at it."

"So he didn't really feel that way about Kim?" You can't help feeling disappointment.

"Sure he did. I told you. It's just that he felt that way about lots of girls. It made him feel big."

"Who was the one girl it worked with?"

"Ximena. They went around for awhile, the start of their junior year. But he got tired of her. She was needy as fuck." He snorts softly. "Are you going to eat?"

So you unwrap your own food. Number Five asks you a few questions of his own, not about Kim but about the other doppelgangers and what you expect from them. You tell him that you want to make one or two more substitutions, and then you'll start making real plans. But you do tell him that you want him to DM you as complete an account as he can of the drug trafficking at school. He tells you that will be no problem, on account of Gary Chen was probably Kirkham's best friend. "Only guy that Kirkham thought of as a friend, anyway," he says with a mild sneer.

Later, out in the car as you're buckling up, he says, "Did you want to hear that talk again?"

"What talk?"

"The one Kirkham used to give all the girls. The one he gave you."

"Oh. Sure." You turn to listen.

Even behind his shades, Number Five's expression is taut. "Kim," he says, "I want you to know you're a really special girl. I mean, everyone I know thinks you're special, but I do too, and especially. I want you to know that. If you ever need anything, and I mean anything—!" He waves the toothpick at your face. "You just ask. I will drop everything, and I will come help you. You understand? Tell me you understand."

"I understand," you croak back, despite yourself.

A small smile creases his face. "Good. That makes me feel really good. It makes me feel special too." He kisses a fingertip, and touches your cheek.

Then the animation fades from his face, and he turns to gaze impassively forward, almost as if he's put himself into Sleep Mode.

Next: "Taken in Trade" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 3)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)"