Book of Madness by Tim Waggoner

Author:Tim Waggoner [Waggoner, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Randal pulled into the Maintenance parking lot in a Chevy Malibu. He didn’t own a car of his own, so he’d been forced to “borrow” one after giving away his last gel tab of Delirium. The man he’d given it to had turned into a fifteen-foot-tall infant in a diaper woven from thorny vines who sat on the sidewalk and wailed like a banshee while crying amber tears that smelled like whiskey. Randal didn’t know what the hell kind of psychological issues the man had, but he figured he was doing him a favor when he absorbed him.

There were a handful of unmarked white vans in the lot—fewer than he’d expected—and there were plenty of open spaces. Randal chose one, backed the car in so he’d be facing the building, and turned off the engine. He couldn’t believe he was really here. It wasn’t like the location of Ash Creek’s Maintenance headquarters was a big secret—the Hawthorne Office Park on the Eastside—but Shadowers avoided this part of town like the fucking plague, and he’d been no exception. But now that he was getting a look at the place, he was surprised by how unimpressive it was. He’d always imagined Maintenance HQ would be something modern and hi-tech, a tower of chrome and glass, maybe with a cool spire at the top. But this looked like any other dull, anonymous office building—one-level, dark-red brick, sign next to the glass door: Maintenance, Ash Creek Division. It looked like a goddamned orthodontist’s office. It was a large building—long and wide—which he supposed it had to be, given all the equipment and machinery it held, not to mention all the agents who worked there. His Mama was in there too, he could feel her, trapped in a cage, waiting for her son to come free her.

He attempted to project his thoughts to her. He knew there wasn’t a true telepathic link between them, but if there was any chance that he could get a mental message through to her, he had to try.

I’m here to get you, Mama. You’ll be free soon.

No answer, but then, he really hadn’t expected one. The Insanitarium rested on the passenger seat, and he reached over and stroked its leathery cover, not caring that it was made from human skin. This wonderful book had given him the knowledge he needed to rescue his mother, and his body now thrummed with the energy of other people’s dreams. He’d become so much more than a drug dealer—he was Power itself—and he knew Mama would be proud of him.

Time to go.

He didn’t need the Insanitarium for this next part, so he had to

hide it. The last thing he wanted was for some Maintenance agent to come along, look through one of the Malibu’s windows, see the book, recognize it for what it was, break the window, and take it. The Insanitarium was his, now and forever. He waved a hand over the book and released a small portion of the power he now held.

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