Page 42 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

“Wild Cody! Man, you are the OG. Thanks for coming out.”

“I’m glad to be here,” he said.

“You’ve been open about the challenges you’ve faced over the years.”

Oh, right. There was something. A fall from grace, a scandal. It came rushing back. Oh, God. The lion! She still remembered the disturbing image of the bony carcass with Wild Cody standing beside it, boot on its haunches, a rifle strapped around his chest.

He nodded. “True,” he said with a nod. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve battled demons. But I’m working to make amends to people I have hurt.”

Maverick nodded. The wind picked up, whispering through the trees. Up above, the same three buzzards that had been circling for a while still drifted, hunters patiently waiting. Adele flashed back to the bird ripping apart the carcass on the road,its sharp beak tearing. Its yellow eyes glowing.

“If you win, the money will go to the One Planet, One Love Foundation, dedicated to preserving the wild, untouched places so near to your heart.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Wild places, like this island, deserve our respect and need our protection.”

Maverick put prayer hands to his heart and bowed his head. “So true.” When he looked back at Cody, he wore a big grin. “Think of all the good that million dollars will do if you win. Think of all thelionsyou can save. Amiright?”

Okay, wow. Maverick was definitely messing with each of them, destabilizing, undermining, antagonizing. Adele guessed it made for good viewing, for drama.

Wild Cody seemed about to say something, but then the camera was back on Maverick. And he was talking about sponsors and about another contestant who still hadn’t arrived.

Malinka and Cody stood on either side of her. Cody had his arms folded around his middle, eyes trained on Maverick. Malinka was watching Maverick’s WeWatch live broadcast on her phone rather than actually looking at Maverick. For that generation, it seemed like the online world was more real than the actual one. They weren’t her allies; they were her opponents. But somehow after those interviews, it felt like them against Maverick.

Maverick was still talking.

In her pocket, her phone vibrated. Probably the kids, telling her how she did.

But no.

Another strange number.

Go home before it’s too late. You’re not safe.

There was that feeling again. That strange out-of-body wobble. Very faintly in the distance, Enchantments groaned.

What was she doing here?

Maverick’s voice boomed in the dim. “The next time we go live it will be game time. Ready or not, Extremists, here we come!”

12

MAVERICK

Sometimes when shit got really hairy, Maverick went somewhere else inside his head. As if there was a little room inside his brain that he could climb into and work the big Maverick puppet from a control center. No matter how scared or sad or afraid he became, or how badly he was hurt, that part of himself, the one that could still feel, made himself very small and hid away, pulling all the right levers and strings so that the Mav puppet could face the world with a smile.Never, ever let them see you cry. That’s what his mother had taught him. When the camera went off, that was the time for tears if necessary. And even then, his mother had little patience.Walk it off, she’d tell him, no matter what had happened.Pain is inconvenience, nothing more. It’s a construct of your mind.

Was it, though?

At the end, his mother drifted on a morphine cloud, a living ghost of herself, barely conscious, eyes staring past him into a place only she could see. His whole body shook sometimes when he allowed himself to think about her final days. He almost never allowed himself to, only when he was really hurting, like now. That’s when he missed her the most.

She’d pushed him to be his best self, too hard sometimes. But no one else on the planet had ever loved him so much. He was someone special beneath her gaze, which was also the camera’s gaze. He was a star through her lens.

That tackle to the ground, those two men on top of him, crushing his chest. The breath leaving him. One of the men had a deep scar under his eye, his expression blank as if violence was routine for him, like he didn’t even care. The other kneeled on Maverick’s bad arm, kneecap digging into tendons. He had been pinned, powerless, hot rage turning to a chilling panic. How were they so strong? He was screaming at them, but he felt that part of himself retreat to the control room. And then he just went still, defeated, staring at the bigger man who stared back, blank.

Now he was on his feet again, the men roaring off on their ATVs, the hum disappearing into the trees.

Everyone was looking at him. They needed him to be strong, to keep going. That’s what his mom had needed, for him to keep going and going, no matter who or how much he hurt. In the control room, he punched all the right buttons.Dust off. Shake it off. Smile. Big smile. Never let them see that the crazy old bitch and her goons scared the shit out of you. That they got the best of you in that moment.

He turned to Malinka and Adele and did his thing. But he wasn’t there. They weren’t there. They were just NPCs in the game of his mind, part of his universe but only just, only for right now.

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