Rowan takes us along some dirt roads. She's making a lot of superfluous turns, probably hoping I'll get confused. But the rain has stopped and I know approximately where we are; I have a good idea of which way to head if I can get away.
I start to feel my brain come out of it's thoughtless fear reaction and slow down into some sort of semblance of planning. I'm less and less afraid and more and more angry. I listen to my heart beating, my lungs breathing. I notice my eyelids blinking. I tell myself my ability to kill is as automatic as these involuntary muscle movements, that whatever The Loop is, it's not enough to shut down my capacity for violence. I am the monster. She is my prey. I pass the time imagining how it will look when her head explodes.
Eventually she turns the car into the shallow curve of a dairy farm's driveway. The gravel crunches under the tires. I see the passive, mildly curious faces of cows in the shade of a low, open barn. They remind me of Ray's honey pots, waiting patiently for the johns.
Rowan hasn't said anything to me during the drive. Once she parks the car, though, she turns to me and says, "The stasis part of The Loop is going to wear off in a moment. When it does, you're going to get out of the car and give me the phone and anything you've got on you that isn't clothing or shoes. No violence. Then you're going to kneel at my feet and stay there until told otherwise. No talking. And no peeing in my car. If you're afraid enough to piss yourself, at least do me the kindness of waiting 'til you're out of the car."
The first thing I'm going to do, once I can move, is blow your brains out. I'll only kneel next to you to make sure you're dead.
She gets out of the car and pulls a different phone out of her jacket pocket and makes a call. She's standing in front of the car, where I can see her even in my frozen state. Her back is to me. She's proven she's not that trusting of me, so what does she trust, that she can feel that confident?
The hand holding the phone up to my ear finally drops into my lap, the phone cradled loosely in my upturned palm. All my muscles are excruciatingly relaxed. I feel like jelly. I'm not sure I can get out of the car, but I do, with only a small amount of scrabbling and bumbling.
I hear her say, "-- what effect The Loop has on an uncompromised person --" as I walk toward her and pull out my gun with my free hand, holding it up at shoulder height, aiming straight at her head. I love my gun. It's liberated me countless times. I sleep with it at night. I clean it twice a day. I lower my weapon, adjust my hold and hand it to Rowan grip-first, who takes it without evincing surprise.
Now I do piss myself. I also start to cry as I rifle through my pockets and empty out everything, which isn't much: a wallet, a pocket knife, my own smart phone, pennies and lint. Then I kneel at her feet. I hide my face and my tears in my hands.
"-- emergency, so get your ass out here, now." She ends the call and sighs, mutters, "Motherfucker," under her breath.
"Listen," she says, "You're here to finish what The Loop in the phone started. It's a kind of obedience-inducing mind control. It doesn't mess with you other than to make you do what others tell you to do. The Loop in the phone was non-specific. That means you'll do what anyone tells you to do. I told Reynolds to tailor that so you'll only be beholden to me and my family. But I can't stay here to make sure that happens.
"I've got to get back and help my daughters with their homework. You wouldn't believe the amount of crappy busywork kids come home with these days. Drives me nuts. Anyway, Reynolds is on his way here to help you. You're going to do as he tells you, because that's the way The Loop works. But before he gets here, I'm going to give you a few truths. I am your alpha. You're my eyes and ears in there so remember everything clearly, excepting any pain, even if others tell you to forget. "
I take my hands away from my face so I can see. I hear a cow low.
"Reynolds is not someone I trust," she says, then, in a quieter voice, "The whole thing is going to shit."
I hear footsteps on the gravel. I turn my head to see a man walking toward us. He's tall, thin, wearing jeans and work boots and a camel-colored jacket. He looks too clean to work at a dairy.
"Rowan," he says, nodding at her. He's not smiling.
"Reynolds," she says. Their bodies are stiff, like alpha dogs sizing each other up. Their eyes are locked on each other.
"This the girl?" he asks, tilting his head my way. Rowan nods. "How'd you know she was up to anything? Gonna be a tough thing to explain if it turns out she really was outta gas."
Rowan hands him my gun. My eyes follow it. My heart aches for it.
"Adam called to warn me that Ray was having some concerns about my husband. Didn't think it was prudent to tell anyone about it. Thought I could handle it on my own."
"But now you want our help," he said, his voice level.
"You might as well hook her up and take some data, since she's not one of Ray's honey pots. At least, I don't think she's had any conditioning done." Her eyes are still on his.
"She ain't ours, legally, though."
"She's mine, then. I'll do the paperwork."
"Not even the senate subcommittee can approve something like that. They become a ward of the state. You know that."
"Fuck that. She's not a honey pot. They'll just 'liberate' her to serve the military men and that wasn't the point of this project at all."
"Why don't you trust us, Rowan?" He asks.
"Because I'm a fucking woman, that's why. You motherfuckers ain't any better than Ray. You keep 'failing' to return those women to a free life. I'm sick of waiting for you all to figure out how to do anything other than re-enslave people. Rebecca, get in my car," she says, finally breaking eye contact with him as she turns to walk to the driver's side of the car.
I stand up and walk by Reynolds on my way back to the passenger's side. He grabs my arm. I turn and step into him so it's easier for him to let go of me as I break his forearm with my elbow. It's very satisfying to feel like myself for a moment.
There's a scream. I'm free to get into the car.
"That's your own fault, you idiot," Rowan yells to him before she settles into the car seat. She tears out of the driveway as soon as I close my door.
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