God Maker: Eric Swan Thriller #3 (Eric Swan Thrillers) by Dom Testa

Author:Dom Testa [Testa, Dom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Profound Impact Group
Published: 2020-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

When the door burst open I was awake but still lying in bed, an arm thrown over my head, preparing myself mentally for what might be another day of isolation. To my surprise Butler flipped on a light and bellowed good morning.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and watched him strut around the room, surveying the books I’d pulled out and sniffing around the remains of dinner still on a tray.

“What, didn’t care for the stew?” he asked. Then, looking back at me and lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone, added, “That’s okay. I had some when I got back last night and I didn’t think it was very good, either. And after I built up the cuisine around here to you. Disappointing.”

“Where have you been the last couple of days?”

He came over and sat down next to me on the bed. “Did you miss me, Swan? I’m touched. Well, I missed you, too. To be honest, I felt bad about whupping your ass the way I did. I should have gone easy on you. You looked so beaten and demoralized, lying there on the mat. Like a sad, broken doll. Have you sufficiently recovered?”

“Nothing a rematch wouldn’t cure.”

This brought a laugh. “Oh, yes, after you’re healed up we’ll go a few more rounds. I mean, that’s why I had the ring delivered. And no worries, I’ll hold back next time. Don’t get me wrong, you’re quite good, but it’ll take years for you to really compete with me.”

Before I could give a pithy response he was back on his feet, heading toward the door. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “The day you beat me, straight up, with me giving 100 percent, we’ll celebrate. But for now get dressed. I feel like a stroll, and I’m sure you do, too. When you’re ready just knock. I’ll wait outside.”

The man was a walking tornado, with words and gestures spinning out of control. I didn’t know if it was his natural state, if it was a result of the data corruption I feared, or if he was chemically altered in some way. But as an introvert I could only take small doses of manic personalities like his before my circuits blurred.

Ten minutes later I was out of my room for the first time in two days. Butler led me outdoors, trailed by his usual two-man escort. It had warmed a little, the sun and blue skies a welcome sight. If I felt this joyous after only two days in solitary confinement, I wondered what it must be like for prisoners who spent 30 days or more in the hole. It was an effective strategy, because in just 48 hours I’d been climbing the walls.

This was also my first opportunity to see the grounds of his base, although it didn’t reveal much. The home’s exterior appeared to be mid-century modern, with modest landscaping around its sizable footprint. I heard waves dashing over a rise. I couldn’t ascertain a thing from the neighboring homes, which were obscured by trees and hedges.

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