“So you have control of the media too? Good luck with that.”
“Not control,” Waylon said. “Someone had to stand trial, to answer for your crimes, someone who was connected to all those murders. We gave them another Skinner who was apprehended at a similar fracas in Texas, so now you and I have all the time in the world together.”
“Oh shit,” Cole grunted. “Is this some sort of weird conjugal visit? Even if I swung that way, I’d rather go without than see what’s under that suit.”
After a quick nod from Waylon, one of the two guards in the elevator slammed the butt of his shotgun into Cole’s ribs. As soon as his knees hit the floor, the second guard cracked his knee against his face.
“I’d suggest you cooperate,” Waylon warned. “The tests that lie ahead may be rigorous, but we could always get some answers from you in the form of an autopsy.” Only then did Waylon press a button on the wall panel.
Cole looked up at the guard who stood closest to the short column of buttons. He was another familiar face that had been shoving him around since he woke up strapped to a bed. The key he clutched between callused fingers was fitted into the slot next to the DOOR OPEN switch.
“Mr. Warnecki,” Waylon said while leading the way out of the elevator, “you should know that we’re not keeping you here for trivial reasons. Things have begun that need to be dealt with, and in order to do that, certain answers must be found. First among them is how the new strain of Nymar infections interact with humans. Since we’re already intimately familiar with Skinners, seeing how the newest Nymar spore interacts with you provides a unique opportunity.”
Cole was dragged to his feet and pulled along behind the man in the suit. “I’ll bet it does,” he said, while struggling to carry his own weight. “And what did you learn from telling that thick-necked asshole to beat me to a pulp in my cell?”
Without levity or malice, Waylon said, “We needed to test the limits of your recuperative abilities and how they were affected by those tendrils. It turns out they help you more than you may know.”
“Did you even try to remove them when you cut me open?”
“Of course we did. What better way to study them? If we could have gotten them as well as the organs to which they were attached without ruining the specimens, you wouldn’t have even woken up from the anesthesia. Once we get into the next room, do yourself a favor and don’t give me a reason to rethink that decision.” Retrieving the pen from his pocket and tapping its button, he asked, “Who might be looking for you?”
“How am I supposed to know that?”
Flipping the pen around his first two fingers, Waylon said, “You know how your partners operate. You know their contacts. Tell me the details.”
“If you’re so intimately familiar with Skinners, you should already know that.”
Waylon flipped the pen around again. “Your partner’s name is Paige Strobel. Does she have any official contacts in Colorado or know of any other Skinners in the vicinity?”
“Yes.”
He smiled approvingly, flipped the pen and asked, “Who?”
“Me.”
Waylon nodded, flipped the pen around to grip it at the end with the button and then jabbed its tip into Cole’s chest. The strike came too quickly for Cole to do anything about it, and although it was a shallow wound, the pen scraped against bone with a pain that felt as if a cattle prod had connected with the inside of his body.
When he reflexively tried to defend himself, Cole was grabbed by a guard on either side. The pen was not only still in him, but was being twisted and driven in deeper by Waylon’s hand.
“Does she have any other contacts?” Waylon asked.
Cole struggled against the guards, but knew he wouldn’t be able to break loose from their grip. The lightweight cuffs were used to pull his arms up behind his back until they felt about to snap in two places, and the sharpened interior of the cuffs chewed viciously into his wrists.
“Answer this question and the rest of today’s exercises will be easier,” Waylon said. Without changing a single aspect of his emotionless face, he pulled out the pen and formed a fist around it before driving his knuckles into Cole’s jaw. The pen added a nice bit of sting to the punch