6:17 A.M.
An undisclosed location, in a very nice house
165 DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD
There was one day left; Susan had been counting them. One more day until NewYew unleashed its latest product on the world. One more day until ReBirth would be shipped across the globe.
One more day until the company she used to trust used her as a pawn to exploit the entire nation.
She needed to stop them, and today she had a new plan to escape. She’d tried before, of course—she’d tried almost every day—but they’d stopped her every time, and she was growing increasingly desperate. They’d removed every weapon from the room, and everything they thought she might use as a weapon, but the definition of “weapon” was changing, and they’d missed one. This was a luxury estate, and the private bathroom was well stocked with everything she needed to stay clean and presentable: shampoo, body wash, a full suite of makeup—all NewYew products, naturally—and a bottle of lotion. She picked it up, closed the bathroom door, and sat down on her bed. She was already dressed and ready to run.
“Hey!” It was early, but there was bound to be at least one Larry awake. There always was. “Hey, meatheads! Somebody get in here!” No sense being polite, she thought, they all know I hate them. She paused, listening for footsteps or an answering call, but there was nothing. She squeezed a glob of lotion into her hands and rubbed them together as she shouted. “Somebody come—”
“Shut up!” said a deep voice from the hallway. The speaker rapped sharply on the door for emphasis. “Go back to bed, you idiot.”
“There’s a rat in my room,” said Susan, examining her hands. “I need you to come kill it.”
“A rat?”
“In the bathroom,” said Susan. “A pretty big one, too. I don’t know how it got in.”
The voice paused, then laughed harshly. “Your bathroom is your problem. I’m not coming in there to get stabbed.”
“Stabbed with what? You took everything I have. And I really have to pee.”
“So kill the rat yourself,” said the Larry, “it makes no difference to me.”
“It will make a very big difference to you when I pee on the floor and they make you clean it up,” said Susan.
“All right!” said the Larry. “Fine, I’ll come take a look at your rat. But if you try anything stupid so help me, I will beat you like a dirty rug.”
“You have my word,” said Susan. “I won’t touch you.”
The lock on the door clicked and jiggled, and she watched as the knob turned and the door swung open. The thug was wearing a dark suit, as always, stretched tight across his chest and shoulders. I can see why they wanted so many of this guy, she thought, his upper arms probably outweigh my entire body. The thug stepped in cautiously, watching her. Susan squeezed out some lotion, rubbed it on her wrists, and nodded toward the bathroom with a smile. “In there.”
“I know where the bathroom is.” He closed the hall door behind himself, locking it carefully; his keys were on the end of a retractable lanyard, and they zipped straight back to his waist when he let go. He looked at her suspiciously, then walked to the bathroom door. “I’m going to have to close the door when I go in, to keep it from coming out. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Like what? You locked the door.”
“Just … don’t do anything.”
“Stop stalling, pantywaist, it’s just a rat.”
He glowered at her, slipped open the bathroom door, and shut himself inside. “I don’t see it,” he called out.
“It likes to hide,” said Susan. She stood up, walked to the door, and held the bottle of lotion over the doorknob. She squeezed it tightly, pouring out a massive blob of thick, creamy ooze. She smeared it around, making sure it was thick and visible.
“There’s nothing in here. There’s not even a hole where a rat could get in.”
“Maybe it came in through the drain.”
“They can’t come in through the drain.”
“Not with that attitude they can’t.” She used her clean hand to squeeze even more lotion onto her fingers. “Poor dumb thug. You’ll be a dumb thug all your life.”
“Listen, bitch, if this is just some kind of game to piss me off and waste my time—” He opened the door and stopped, staring at her. “What are you doing?”
“Do you know how fast this ReBirth stuff is supposed to work?” She held up her hand, dripping white slime like a movie monster.
“That’s…” He shook his head. “That’s not ReBirth.”
Of course it wasn’t, but she was betting he’d be too cautious to test it. “They gave it to me last night,” said Susan, looking at it idly. “Something about the plan going into motion, I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything.”
He took a half step forward, but no farther. “Get out of the way.”
“You’ve done it before, right? Used the lotion, I mean? That’s how you lost your neck and turned into Larry number four.” She stepped forward and he stepped back. She couldn’t help but smile. “What’s the matter, you don’t want any?”
“Get out of the way,” he said again.
“It doesn’t matter where I go,” she said, “it’s all over the doorknob, too.” She held out the bottle, aiming it at him like a weapon. “And I can squeeze this hard enough to hit you all the way across the room—I’ve been practicing. But really, it wouldn’t be that bad to be me, right? You’d have great hair, if nothing else.” She paused, widening her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh yeah, but then you’d, uh … lose a few things, too.” She stepped forward again, gesturing at his crotch. “I hear they just … fall right off. Not to mention you’d start having periods, and I guarantee those are even more unpleasant than you’ve heard.”
“Stay away from me.”
“Give me the keys.”
“I’ll scream for help.”
“Give it a few weeks and you’ll be screaming in a much higher pitch.” She thrust out the bottle and he flinched backward.
