Messiahs by Matt Rogers (bookstand for reading txt) 📕

the search bar showed in the immediate history. The very first was the address for a budget motel in the south-east of Gillette, almost outside the city limits. It was at the edge of the city closest to the Thunder Basin National Grassland.

Slater said, ‘Got the address.’

King shrugged and said, ‘Still…’

Slater looked up. ‘This Wyatt guy probably owns the place. You don’t want to know why he’s receiving regular Bodhi drops from a junkie?’

King said, ‘Use your head. We go there, we speak to him, maybe pretend we’re new delivery guys, and he gives that information straight to Maeve. It’s the most basic security check he could do. Then there’s no way we can go into the commune. We’ll blow our cover.’

Slater said, ‘What if he knows everything about how the cult operates? That’s information too valuable to pass up. And like I said, Violetta and Alexis already have a way in…’

King said, ‘So you want to interrogate Wyatt, ruining our hopes of infiltrating Mother Libertas, and abandon the girls once they’re deep inside. We have no idea what protocol is out there. Is there even cell service? If they’re in danger, and we’re stuck here in Gillette, will they even be able to contact us?’

Slater said, ‘Or Wyatt spills his guts and gives us information that incriminates everyone at the top of the cult’s food chain. Then we can dispense with the bullshit cover, take that Mossberg, storm the commune, and put one in the heads of everyone out there.’

‘That’s assuming this Wyatt knows anything.’

‘Only one way to find out,’ Slater said. ‘And I doubt Maeve’s reckless with the Bodhi she disperses. So he’s important.’

King mulled on it for a long time. The silence was thick in the room, and Slater cleared his head and went through a thirty-minute yoga routine to give King time to think. His mind was already made up, his logic falling to the eternal Patton quote: A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.

He’d found that applied to almost every aspect of life.

When he finished, coated in a thin sheen of sweat, he looked back at King.

Who said, ‘Okay. You’re right. All four of us don’t need to be there in disguise. If it ends up that way, great, but it’s not a given.’

A pause.

Slater said, ‘So?’

King said, ‘Let’s go talk to Wyatt.’

29

They went on foot to a car rental shop, hired an old sedan with their false IDs, and drove it south-east, straight to the motel.

They parked across the road, got out, and made for the reception office like they had a thousand things to do that day and no time to waste.

Wyatt sat behind the desk as they stepped into the small space, their presence made known by a small bell jangling above the doorway.

He was a great slab of a man with broken capillaries in his cheeks and tufts of reddish-brown hair that had receded a couple of decades ago. He wore an enormous polo shirt that looked like a bedsheet on his body, with a name badge reading: WYATT NELSON.

He looked up with tired eyes and said, ‘Can I help you boys? Need a room?’

‘We can help you,’ Slater said. ‘We’re Fitch’s replacement.’

Wyatt didn’t get up, or even react. His face just creased with wrinkles of confusion.

‘Huh?’ he said.

Slater didn’t know whether he was playing dumb or honestly didn’t know his dealer’s last name.

King said, ‘We’ve got what you need.’

Wyatt stewed restlessly, small beads of sweat moistening his upper lip. Then the confusion dissipated and he said, ‘Oh, Jimmy?’

‘Jimmy, James, Fitch, whatever,’ Slater said. ‘You understand why we’re here?’

Wyatt nodded, but he was still apprehensive. ‘They ain’t mention a replacement. Y’all cops?’

Slater rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, we’re cops. You’re not dumb, Wyatt. Would cops have this?’

He took out all four vials of Bodhi — the two they’d smuggled into Wyoming, and the two they’d taken off Fitch’s body. He laid them on the countertop, letting the amber liquid shine under the overhead light.

Wyatt couldn’t help himself. He was deep in the grasp of the substance’s power. Desire rippled behind his eyes. He said, ‘Four?’

Slater said, ‘Four.’

‘Jimmy was bringing me the usual top-up. Why you giving me extra? I ain’t got the money for it, if that’s what you want. I dunno what y’all know about the arrangement, but I don’t pay for this shit. I do certain favours for—’

King held up a hand like he was scolding a child. ‘Yes, Wyatt. We’re all very grateful for what you do. Others might find it dirty, but we see the world differently, don’t we?’

Slater tapped a finger beside the vials, highlighting their presence.

Wyatt gulped. ‘Okay, well, thank ya very much. Anything you want from me?’

‘Nothing yet,’ Slater said. ‘We figured we’d make this an introductory session. Anything you want to know about us?’

Wyatt shook his head. The beads of sweat were fatter now, more obvious, and Slater couldn’t tell whether they were due to nerves or withdrawal symptoms. He wondered how long it had been since Wyatt’s last dose.

Wyatt looked all around, like there was the slightest possibility of eavesdroppers, then leant his considerable weight forward onto his elbows. He looked up at Slater. ‘Y’all want the body? Maeve said she’d send people. That you?’

King didn’t miss a beat. ‘That’s us.’

Wyatt nodded. ‘Got her out back. She put up a damn good fight.’

Slater said, ‘Don’t they always?’

Inwardly, he burned.

Wyatt levered his fat frame out of the chair. It groaned underneath him, protesting the load it was forced to bear every day. He waddled round from behind the desk and jerked a thumb at the lone door up the back of the office. ‘This way.’

Slater couldn’t respond at risk of letting his anger blow his cover, so he nodded, his mouth a hard line.

Wyatt stared at him. ‘Somethin’ wrong?’

Slater said, ‘Why would something be wrong?’

‘You look funny. You boys new to this sort of work?’

King said, ‘We’ve done tours. We’re fine with a little blood.’

Wyatt smiled, his teeth so