Chapter 21: The Showdown

I clamped down on Peter's sleep impulse, trying to put him down as I had done with the Sheriff. Peter, free from the alcohol that the Sheriff had been drinking, fought back. We had a virtual showdown in the passages of his mind as I tried to disable him while he tried to trap me in the labyrinth of his mind.

Only seconds had passed, but we had fought to an impasse. Searching for a way to get the upper hand, Peter activated a control he had inserted into Andrea's mind during her performance. She jumped on me, clawing at my eyes like a wild cat. I disengaged my mind from his, unable to maintain my concentration while Andrea raked her nails down my face. I yelled to Sue to tackle Peter. Our only hope was to get the MC Device off his head. Peter, freed from my attack, tried to resume concentration but Ernie got to him first, ripping the MC Device from his head.

Bert wrestled Andrea off my back, pinning her arms behind her back. Her eyes rolled and her mouth frothed with insane anger. Seeing his trump card subdued, Peter looked up from the floor and gave a little smile.

He said a word. Andrea stiffened and then pitched forward, dead. Peter had gained the upper hand, due to his experience using the "dark side" of mind control. He turned and pointed toward Sue but was too late. Ever the quick thinker, she hit him over the head and knocked him unconscious.

Peter's guests stared at us in disbelief. Most thought that we were acting out some kind of rape fantasy. Ignoring them, we carried Andrea and Peter into an alcove. Drawing the curtains, I took a quick breath before continuing.

While Peter was incapacitated, I continued looking through his mind, wary of the traps that Peter might have set. I found that Peter had been looking for information on any improvements or other devices that Brantwell might have left in the bunker. Brantwell had grown to distrust Peter in later years and, with his usual secrecy, had taken to dropping false clues to mislead even his assistants...

I was disappointed to find that Peter had not been the one that killed Lucy, even though he had been there. The actual killer had been Michael. When I told the others what had happened, they were deflated by this revelation. Momentarily at a loss for what to do next, we sat in stunned silence. Sue, ever the one to act on impulse, broke the tension by killing Peter with a bullet in the crotch. The echoes of the gunshot still rang in the air as Sue turned to me and announced that she was ready to go home.

We jumped out a low window and escaped to Michael's house through the dark New Orleans streets. Collecting our gear, I felt the accusing stares of my friends. I poured a drink and tried to explain what had happened. I gave the Reader's Digest version of mind control, but the sight of Peter bleeding to death on the patio tile had sapped everyone's ability to ask questions. We all just wanted to return to our nice, normal, mundane lives.

We returned to our world, not via the bunker warehouse, but to a lonely spot Michael had used during his visits. We found the car he had stashed for his own transportation in a small storage shed and awkwardly stood around, everyone unwilling to be the first to break the silence. Looking at the digital clock in the vehicle, Bert told us that the two weeks we had spent on the other planes had passed here as well.

We said our farewells and then split. Bert and Ernie went back to their jobs sated by the excitement for the moment, both ready for their next adventure. Sue and I stood alone in the dark storage shed. She admitted that the thrill had gotten to her and that she wasn't sure that she would be able to return to her mundane, 9 to 5 existence. I reminded her that we hadn't found Brantwell yet and as long as he roamed free, others might try and take advantage of his devices.

Sue smiled and said that she'd order the pizza while I packed. We hid the travel machine into Michael's storage shed and left for my apartment, already preparing for the next trip.