The House of the Scorpion (29 page)

He was alone. Alone, that is, except for four burly men who sat outside the window and an unknown number lurking outside the door. It was a beautiful room, with a carpet patterned in the colors of the oasis. Matt saw the red of canyon walls, the heavy green of creosote, and a blue that was the color of the sky trapped between high cliffs. If he half closed his eyes, he could almost imagine himself there, in the quiet shadows of the Ajo Mountains.

He waited. It had been morning when El Patrón was wheeled out. Now it was afternoon. The panic had died down outside, and the halls were nearly silent. The hospital went about its business without involving the prisoner in the elegant drawing room.

Matt finished the tea and ate all the cookies. He felt utterly exhausted. Everything had been turned upside down, and he didn’t know whether El Patrón’s death would mean safety or exactly the opposite.

Matt studied his arm and wondered at the arsenic that lurked inside. Would mosquitoes die if they bit him? Could he kill things by spitting on them? It was an interesting thought. Matt discovered that no matter how terrified he’d been at first, it wasn’t possible to stay terrified. It was as though his brain said,
Okay. That’s enough. Let’s find something else to do
.

Matt thought about María instead. She was probably back at the convent. He didn’t know what she did there, aside from eating chocolates and sunbathing naked on the roof. What a crazy thing to do. What an
interesting
thing to do. Matt’s face turned warm as he thought about it. He’d seen paintings of fat, naked goddesses from Rome in his art classes. He thought they were nice, but no one ran around like that in real life. Or did they? He didn’t know how people behaved in the outside world.

Anyhow, María had gotten into trouble for it. Matt felt feverish, but it wasn’t surprising, being full of arsenic as he was. He wondered what other stuff Celia had tried on him from her garden.

The door swung open. Mr. Alacrán strode in with Tam Lin.

For an instant time froze. Matt was six years old again, lying in a pool of blood with Rosa plucking fragments of glass from his foot. A fierce man had burst into the room and shouted,
How dare you defile this house? Take the creature outside now!

It was the first time Matt had realized he wasn’t human. The fierce man had been Mr. Alacrán, and he had the same expression of loathing on his face now as he looked at Matt.

“I’m here to inform you we no longer need your services,” Mr. Alacrán said.

Matt gasped. That meant El Patrón was dead. No matter how often he’d thought about it, the reality came as a blow.

“I—I’m sorry.” Silent tears began to roll down Matt’s face. He could keep himself from blubbering, but there was nothing he could do about the grief that welled up inside.

“I imagine you are,” said Mr. Alacrán. “It means we no longer have a use for you.”

Of course you have a use for me
, Matt thought. He knew as much about running Opium as Steven. He’d studied the farming techniques, the day-to-day problems of water purification and food distribution. He probably knew more than anyone about the network of spies and corrupt officials in other countries. Years of listening to El Patrón had given Matt a feel for the Alacrán empire no one else could possibly have.

“Have it put to sleep,” Mr. Alacrán said to Tam Lin.

“Yes, sir,” said Tam Lin.

“What do you mean?” cried Matt. “El Patrón wouldn’t want that! He had me educated. He wanted me to help run the country.”

Tam Lin looked at him in pity. “You poor fool. El Patrón had seven other clones exactly like you, each one educated and believing he was going to run the country.”

“I don’t believe it!”

“I have to admit, you were the first one with musical genius. But we can always turn on the radio if we want that.”

“You can’t do this! We’re friends! You said so! You left me a note—” Matt was knocked down by a blow that made him see stars. No one had ever struck him. No one was allowed to. He crawled to his knees, holding his jaw. He was even more shocked by the person who’d done it.

Tam Lin.

Tam Lin was an ex-terrorist. He’d been responsible for the deaths of twenty children, and maybe it didn’t even bother him. Matt had never considered that possibility.

“You see, lad, I’m what you call a mercenary,” said Tam Lin in the lilting voice Matt had come to love. “I worked for El Patrón for donkey’s years—thought he’d go on forever. But now I’m out of a job, and Mr. Alacrán has been kind enough to offer me another.”

“What about Celia?” whispered Matt.

“You don’t think she’d get away with the game she played? By now she’ll have been turned into an eejit.”

But you told her about the monarch butterflies
, thought Matt.
You let her walk into the trap
.

“Can you finish up here? I’ve got work to do,” said Mr. Alacrán.

“I’ll dispose of the clone, sir,” said Tam Lin. “I might need Daft Donald to help me tie it up.”

He called me a clone
, Matt thought.
He called me an “it.”

“Remember, I want you back for the wake tonight,” said Mr. Alacrán.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Tam Lin with a twinkle in his lying, treacherous eyes.

24
A F
INAL GOOD-BYE

D
aft Donald held Matt firmly, and Tam Lin wrapped him in duct tape. The bodyguard slung him over a horse as he exchanged greetings with other members of El Patrón’s private army, lounging by the stables. “Where are you taking it?” a man called.

“Thought I’d dump it next to the eejit pens,” Tam Lin replied. The man’s laughter was lost in the drum of horse’s hooves striking the earth.

This animal was different from the Safe Horses. It was faster and less predictable. It even smelled different. Matt, with his nose pressed into its hide, was in a good position to know. Safe Horses had a faint chemical odor, but this one reeked of sun and sweat.

Matt suddenly realized what Tam Lin meant by dumping him next to the eejit pens. He was going to be thrown into the yellow ooze at the bottom of a pit. The horror of it, the unfairness and treachery of almost everyone he’d ever known, made Matts blood pound in his ears. But this time, instead of fear, he felt a surge of pure animal rage. He deserved to live! He was
owed
this life that had so casually been given him, and if he had to die, he would struggle until the very last minute.

Matt tested the tape holding his arms and legs. He couldn’t move an inch.
Well then
, Matt thought,
I’ll have to wriggle and squirm my way out of the sludge pit
. He saw the earth fly under the horse’s hooves. His stomach bounced painfully against its body. This creature didn’t run as smoothly as a Safe Horse.

Finally, it slowed and Tam Lin lifted Matt down. The boy managed to jackknife his body and drive his head into the man’s stomach. “Ach! Ye pee-brained ninny!” swore Tam Lin. “Look about you before you do a stupid trick like that!”

Matt rolled onto his back, his feet up to deliver a kick. He saw blue sky and a shoulder of rock. He smelled not slime and corruption, but good, clean air scented by creosote. They weren’t by the eejit pens. They were on the path to the Ajo Mountains.

“There! I hope to have a lavish apology,” grunted Tam Lin, peeling the tape, none too gently, off Matt’s skin.

“Are you going to drown me in the oasis instead?” Matt snarled.

“Get a grip on yourself, lad. All right, I can see you’ve got grounds for suspicion, but credit me with a little decency.”

“How can I trust someone who killed twenty children?” Matt said.

“So they told you that.” Tam Lin looked so sad, Matt felt slightly—but only slightly—sorry for him.

“Is it true?” he demanded.

“Oh, aye. It’s true.” Tam Lin wadded the tape into a ball and stuffed it into one of the horse’s saddlebags. He took out a backpack and heaved it over his shoulder. “Come on. I don’t have much time.”

He started up the trail, not looking back. Matt paused. He could steal the horse and ride north. The Farm Patrol might not know yet that he was marked for disposal.
Disposal
, Matt thought with a glow of anger. But the animal didn’t look easy to ride. Unlike a Safe Horse, it had to be tied to a tree. It rolled its eyes and flared its nostrils when Matt tried to get near it.

On the other hand, he could follow Tam Lin into the mountains and hope the man’s friendship held. Tam Lin had disappeared among the rocks. He wasn’t even bothering to see whether Matt followed.

I’m probably the world’s biggest idiot
, thought Matt as he trudged along the trail.

The oasis was brimming. Fall rains had brought life to the paloverde trees, making them bright with delicate yellow and orange flowers. The grape arbor was leafier than Matt ever remembered, and a small duck paddled away across the water as he approached.

Tam Lin was perched on a rock. “That’s a cinnamon teal,” he said. “They migrate from the United States to Aztlán this time of year. You wonder how they find a speck of water like this in all the dry desert.”

Matt settled on another rock, not too near. The sun was sliding behind the hills and shadows crept into the little valley.

“If it hadn’t been for this place, I’d have run barking mad years ago,” the bodyguard said. Matt watched the little duck work its way along the far shore. “I was half mad when I went to work for El Patrón.
It’s a place to hide
, I thought then.
I’ll leave when the police get tired of hunting for me
. But of course things didn’t work out that way. Once something belongs to El Patrón, it’s his forever.”

“So you did kill the children,” Matt said.

“I could say it was an accident—and it was—but that doesn’t take away the horror. I
was
intending to blow up the prime minister, a fat toad who deserved it. I simply never considered the other people who might get in the way. Frankly, I was such a self-important ass, I didn’t care. I got most of these scars from that explosion, and Daft Donald had his throat cut. That’s why he can’t talk.”

In all these years Matt hadn’t thought about why Daft Donald never spoke. He’d assumed the large, silent man was antisocial.

“El Patrón had an instinct for people he could enslave,” said Tam Lin. “He was such a powerful presence. Power’s a strange thing, lad. It’s a drug and people like me crave it. It wasn’t till I met Celia that I saw what a monster I’d become. I was too happy swaggering around in El Patrón’s shadow.”

“But you let the doctors turn Celia into an eejit,” said Matt.

“I did not! I marked her forehead so it appeared like she was operated on. I put her in the stables with Rosa.”

Matt looked at Tam Lin directly for the first time since they arrived at the oasis. A great weight shifted off his chest.

“She’ll be safe as long as she remembers to act like a zombie. So now I think I’ve earned that lavish apology,” the bodyguard said.

And Matt gave it at great length and wholeheartedly.

“I would’ve brought her here, but Celia isn’t much for climbing rocks.” Tam Lin sighed.

They looked out over the pool with the afternoon sky silvering its surface. The cinnamon teal waddled onto the bank and preened its feathers. A swallow scooped up a dragonfly hovering over the water.

“Am I supposed to live here?” Matt asked.

Tam Lin started. “Ah! My mind was wandering. I love the way swallows turn just before they’re about to crash into the ground. No, lad. You wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s better if you go to Aztlán.”

Aztlán! Matt’s heart gave a bound. “Are you coming with me?”

“I can’t.” Tam Lin’s voice was sad. “You see, I’ve done terrible things in my life, and I can’t escape the consequences.”

“That’s not true,” Matt said. “The police probably stopped looking for you long ago. You could give people a false name. You could grow a beard and shave your head.”

“Of course I could—and may I say, you’re showing quite a lawless streak. Quite a chip off the old block you are. No, I’m talking about
moral
consequences. I’ve spent years benefiting from the horrors of Opium, and now I have the chance to put things right. I mustn’t pass it up. Celia has made me see that. She’s a very strict woman, you know. Won’t put up with evil.”

“I know,” said Matt, thinking of how Celia had stood up to El Patrón.

“I’ve already packed your bag,” Tam Lin said, unslinging the backpack. “There’s maps in the chest. Take as many water bottles as you can manage, and when you reach the Aztlán border, say you’re a refugee. Your parents have been taken by the Farm Patrol. Act stupid—that shouldn’t be a problem—and don’t tell anyone you’re a clone.”

“Won’t they be able to tell?” Matt imagined the Aztlános’ rage when they realized they’d been duped.

“Here’s the dirty little secret.” Tam Lin bent down and whispered, as though he had to hide the information from the swallows, the duck, and the dragonflies. “No one can tell the difference between a clone and a human. That’s because there
isn’t
any difference. The idea of clones being inferior is a filthy lie.”