Chapter 18

Number 1 (Helen) kept tugging at the chain linking us. A new, shorter 'consciousness flow' was crafted after Number 2's (Hoover) discretion, bound to the neck. She kept imposing like we were Huskies, charging to glory down the snowy incline of Mt. Everest. There were only four of us, no reason for the aggression. If my brain stays focused long enough, she'll be next to go, after Apollo.

She dragged us all to the main deck to clean. I get the impression more and more that she's done this before. Number 4 (Aries) idolizes her. I'll never understand why some part of me thinks Number 4 (Aries) wants to secretly upgrade to the number 1 spot. Doesn't matter. When I become father, I'll eliminate the numbers altogether. Along with this infernal chain.

I ceased mopping when a dragonfly fluttered near me. It possessed a regal presence. An aura that was summoning me. Some old ghost channeling me through an insect. When did dragonflies become mediums. The translucent fern color, splicing with a dried blood red, wings like small wires interconnected. My mind is coming back to me. Dimitri is returning, but in a boomerang-way, not a yo-yo, if I'm not careful, I'll have to wait till the next go-round.

"Pay attention Number 7, I can see you losing focus from all the way over here!" screeched Number 1 (Helen), it reached my ears like nails scratching a chalkboard.

"We need to be a unit for father, we cannot have the family breaking apart like this. I will not allow it!" she continued to bark, but only to me it seemed.

I pointed behind her to the 41-foot Utility Boat approaching, in laymen's terms, the Coast Guard…

"Which one of you is the owner of this boat" the Coast Guard Officer probed over the megaphone.

We all looked like deer in headlights, connected by a chain that jumps neck to neck. Correction, we looked like elated prisoners. Aren't you happy you can't go home No one said a word, even Number 1 (Helen) found a way to close that whale of a mouth she so loved to fling instructions out of. I should've screamed out about the insanity going on in this vessel, and about Number 2 (Hoover) stuck in that contraption, but I went silent when father appeared right behind me.

He signaled to Ramses to halt the boat, and the Coast Guard got closer, viewing us with concerned eyes. Maybe this nightmare can finally be over

"Sir, please step off your vessel and onto ours for questioning. Do you have paperwork for this boat"

I watched father float onboard the Coast Guard's boat with a grin on his face. Is this a mirage He turned to me and said.

"Go inside."

A strong gust followed his words, as if the sky complied, pushing me back. We all obeyed the order, with Number 1 (Helen) tugging at the chain harder than ever. I resisted briefly until the neck brace began digging an imprint into my skin.

FATHER AND THE COAST GUARD

Father walked onto the boat and greeted the officer with a grip near his elbow in a secretive manner. The office responded with the same expression. He disconnected his radio device and signaled to his partner with a thumbs up that everything was copasetic.

"You said you'd be back, and sure enough," stated the Coast Guard.

"How goes it, Zeus" father asked.

"Hmm, it's only been a week, bout as long as you've been floating out here. But 'The Black Horse' is good. You still on your 'agenda' Remember, he has to die before the election. If you miss the target date, no one's bailing you out," the Coast Guard Officer, aka, the new Zeus, responded.

"This group isn't looking any better. I think I should've listened to Cyrus," father stated, mea culpa written all over his face.

"The drugs, right And the hypnosis, too risky man. Cyrus would know, or did know, or knew I dunno, what's the proper tense when speaking about a dead man"

"He would've known."

"Yea, there you go, you always was the writer. Anyway, MK Ultra had some major side effects on him and not the Ken Kesey type. Shame what happened to him. Shame what they made you do. He sacrificed his mind to some to Lovecraftian faux-god, got mixed up with the wrong people. Grew a goddamn conscious overnight, he had to go. Those Scientology types, believing what they read in science fiction novels. Listen to me, rambling away, regardless, he always wanted you to lead without all that, all that hypnosis drug stuff. Fathers always want their sons to do better than them."

"He didn't know chemicals like I do."

"Helen's the only successful lab rat. Poor girl. Surprised she didn't jump with the rest of em."

"No, Apollo too. But a weaker dosage, slipped it in his coffee when I met him in Mexico."

"You still got those ex-mercenaries Ha. Go figure. Hey, between me and you, make them clean at night, you got them on the main deck broad day, wearing a fucking chain Looks like a slave ship."

"We are slaves," father confessed, with a deadpan appearance.

"Look, you don't have to bog me down with your racial stance, how long we known each other Plus, isn't that your angle The terrorists have Mohammed, you have the whole 'black' thing. It works. I mean… shit, how long has 'The Black Horse' been operating like a damn underground mafia. Hmm Titus just got popped the other day, FBI's cracking down. The game is almost over. Three more voyages on the third coast starting tomorrow morning, and that's the end of it. We plan to have those suckers do a suicide bombing at an airport. Media will think its ISIS, we won't change their mind. After that, we're all going underground, conditioning the newbies in the basement. Drugless too. Those last three got their followers by posing as a yoga class, transcendental meditation nonsense, and slowly reeled them in. I might start radicalizing them through that Youtube shit, seems to work. Hey… is drugless a word Anywho, don't fuck up Ankh, that's what you go by, right Not Ken anymore. No matter. You ain't the only Zeus, and damn sure not the only father."

"Keep your faith in me, Zeus. I'll get it done. The Alt-Right's guy, their so-called presidential candidate. He'll be dead by the third."

"Viva la Black Horse," slyly replied the Coast Guard Officer.

"…all the way to the apocalypse."

"Bit of advice, though, Ankh. Best head to the target pier, whether they're conditioned or not. No time left, storm's brewing, and not just one. Word is that a hurricane is going to sweep through here soon. If you don't reach the pier in time, it's a good possibility that you'll sink out here."

BACK ON THE RIVER OF STYX

I tried to calculate how long it would be until the guards came in here, busting up the place. Colossal sounds of helicopter blades hovering above, as we get air-lifted to orange and white heaven. Till Number 2 (Hoover) is released from hell, covered in his own excrement. When Apollo is shot down from trying to pick a fight with the armed officers. When Number 1 (Helen) catches a stray to the heart for leaping in front of father, like Reagan's bodyguard.

When…

I was astonished to see father coolly enter the meeting room. He signaled Ramses to continue driving forward and sat us all down.

"From now on, you clean the main deck at night."

The mush that they try to shovel as food was brought out to us on a tray. Each dish comes with a small clear plastic cup filled with red 'anti-seasickness' pills. At least this time, they removed the chain so we could eat comfortably. I won't be able to throw this up, so my mind will be on the chopping block. I tried to remind myself of alternatives, but that notion was flattened by Number 2's (Hoover) galimatias from the so-called iron-maiden. Apollo kicked the contraption's front door.

"Quiet in there, the more you cry, the longer you'll stay. Shut up with that nonsense! There ain't no Great Old One."

"Best keep your feet on the floor, before that breaks too," threatened Ramses as he stalked into the meeting room, after putting the boat on autopilot.

"I understand that 'father' has strict rules here, but that guy in there…the one screaming. He's the only one right for the job. The rest…" continued Ramses, sizing up the room.

"Everyone will play their part when the time is right," father stated.

"The death of him will release 'The Great Old One'! Do not follow the false prophet!" Number 2 (Hoover) clearly warned from inside his cell.

"I've seen him…spoken to him," he continued.

"SHUT UP!" Apollo screamed as he kicked the iron maiden just a little too hard, knocking the hinges in, letting the front door sway open. We all stood motionless, as the eerie creaking noise filled the room, with Number 2's (Hoover) hand poking out.

"What did I…" snarled Ramses, as father ceased him back with his open palm.

Father stood, stretched his back, and raised his hand to strike Apollo, but to his surprise, Number 3 (Raena) covered Apollo with her body.

"Please, father…he's acting this way because he's in pain. He's not himself."

Number 1 (Helen) tore Number 3 (Raena) away from Apollo.

"Remember who your master is," she scowled, as father began mercilessly punching Apollo in the face.

Number 2 (Hoover) peaked his head out to see father wailing on Apollo, and slowly crept back inside. Ramses grabbed father's bloody hand to stop him.

"That's enough, we need all the men we have."

Father's unbridled rage pushed Ramses back.

"I am in control! You will NOT flex authority in here, in front of my children. They all listen to ME, not YOU."

"Children Your drugged up community of zombies you mean We needed to make them killers! That's what's gonna happen here, we're gonna teach them to kill someone. Not this brainwashing experiment. What the fuck did you expect to happen Just like four years ago, you are a goddamn failure. Not only that, you're the prodigy failure. Raised by the best to become the worst. Cyrus should've killed you instead!"

"I told you not to mention his FUCKING name!" yelled father, backing up to find the wall, towards the AR-15 on the floor.

"Try me, Ken."

Ramses, quicker to the draw, whipped out his pistol from his waistband. The steel barrel pointed directly at father's face. The god of thunder let his voice be heard above, accompanied by a rain sonata. For the first time, it felt like God was watching. I took that moment to slide the food away from my tray, allowing me to keep Dimitri a little longer.

The air turned rigid, and the tarp covering the ceiling began to droop inwards. Coldly, Ramses rested his finger on the trigger, debating what to do. Father raised his hands slowly, away from the rifle. Number 1 (Helen) stood up, but father motioned her to sit, and placed his finger to his lips.

"Put the gun down…you will lead them to darkness without me. You know this, Ramses. Let's pull back like you said. I agree with you."

Ramses lowered his eyes till they looked like slits. Maybe he wanted to close his eyes and squeeze.

"You need me…" whispered father, as he thought about all the times he could've drugged Ramses, and regretted it. A kaleidoscope of flashbacks missed opportunities.

Number 2 (Hoover) poked his head once more.

"Is this real"

"It's more real than you think, this man here, he didn't quite plan this all the way through. You left holes, Ken. You left a trail."

"DO NOT SPEAK TO FATHER THAT WAY," yelled out Number 1 (Helen).

Ramses shot a warning bullet in the wall, I grabbed Number 4 (Aries) by the waist, as she struggled to hold in her shock.

"Hmph, father…Ken its time, tell her the truth. If your conscious will let you. Number 1. Helen. He's been fucking you and drugging you for the last five years. Shit, even me and Apollo had you at one point. In Mexico, before Mexico. Helen, you are the ONLY survivor from the first voyage. How you think we ended up in Mexico in the first place Vacation All bullshit, from THIS man. You thought you miscarried, but you were never pregnant. He was experimenting with you, the hypnosis. All of it. The same way Cyrus experimented on him."

"Ramses! Know your place! I…"

BOOM!

That was the last thing father ever said. Know your place.

Additional lightning and thunder played above, more menacingly now, judgingly. The bullet went straight through his eye, and he flew back from the impact, hitting the wall, sliding down. Tragically, his dead hand rested on the AR-15.

As expected, Number 1 (Helen) went hysterical.

"NOOOO!!"

She leaped at Ramses, and he blessed her with two shots in the head. Her body crashed into the table, turning the food and pills into fireworks. Number 3 (Raena) crawled into Apollo's lap, fidgeting.

He pointed the gun to Apollo while the barrel was still smoking.

"Best keep your feet on the floor, boy. Walk where I can see you. Everyone else, pray seasickness comes early, so you can throw up all that shit Ken's been feeding you. Your mind will follow shortly after. I'm in control now, and here's what we're gonna do. The presidential candidate…supported by the Alt-right…Melvin Burns. We're going to kill him in five days."

A mechanical thud interrupted the rest of Ramses' reveal. The struggling machine was stuttering in our ears, and the boat kicked to move forward, as the rainfall upgraded to blanketed downpours. The sky was the blackest I'd ever seen, like someone above, maybe even below, was upset that father had been killed.

"Shit," exclaimed Ramses, as he rushed to the captain's deck.

I sneakily trailed behind, not knowing page one of boat engines, just observing best I could. Small clouds of white smoke, frizzled wires, the interface was infested with gibberish, nonsensical computer mumbo jumbo. The GPS display from the transponder seemed buggy. Ramses sent me a 'S.O.S' with his eyes.

"Hurry up and grab that AR-15. Keep the people in check, I think the engine just died."

"A dragonfly symbolizes change."