Free What Would Satan Do? by Anthony Miller Page A

pointed a pale, undead finger at the image of a blood stain frozen on the screen.
    Harris stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back.  “Well, we don’t know a lot of details.  Frankly, all we really know for sure is that the project existed, and that it had to do with mind control.” 
    “You’re right.  That’s not a lot of details.”
    “Well, what you saw in that video – nobody touched that man.”
    “So you’re saying they controlled his mind?  Made him hurt himself?”  The governor leaned forward, the glazed-over eyes suddenly piercing.
    “Supposedly.”  Harris suppressed a smirk.
    Whitford ruminated.  “What happened to the program?”
    “They shut it down in the 1980’s, but there are still people alive who participated, people who know about it.  And there are files that ... could be had.” 
    “This is the best thing you could find?  Better than the laser?”
    “Yes, sir.  Better.”
    Whitford looked at Parker, and Parker shrugged.
    “What about your source?” asked the Governor.
    “Reliable,” said Harris.
    “And you think this is worthwhile?”
    “It’s the best thing we’ve got.”
    Whitford stared at the screen and then looked back over to Parker again.  Parker looked his boss in the eye.  They’d worked together a lot of years.  Nobody knew Dick Whitford better than Clyde Parker, not even Jane Whitford, that inhuman (though very smiley), debutante bitch.  He trusted the man, confided in him.  And Parker knew where all of Whitford’s skeletons were hidden.  In fact, he knew their names, and always made sure to ask after their wives or kids.
    Whitford stuck out his lower lip, like he always did when he made big decisions.  “Okay,” he said.  “Get it.”
    That was all Clyde Parker needed to hear.

Chapter 9.                  Liam Has Chick Issues
    “Lola?  Dude, that name is hot ,” said Raju.  “H-O-T, hot!”
    Festus joined in the fun.  “Lowwww-lahhhhh,” he said, rolling the sound around in his mouth.
    Liam grimaced.  He’d just made the mistake of revealing the name of his latest blind date to the two idiots.  It was bad enough that he’d agreed to spend an evening trying not to look bored, but being harangued by a would-be spiritual guru and a guy who looked like Jesus in a People’s Liberation Army hat was too much.
    “You,” he jabbed a finger at Raju, “shut up.  And Festus?”
    Festus looked at Liam expectantly.
    “You’re not allowed to give me any shit about women.”
    “But—”
    “No,” said Liam.  “You’re not in any position to say a thing.”
    It was true.  Women avoided Festus in much the same way that people in an emergency room waiting area tend to choose seats far away the guy coughing blood into a handkerchief.
    Raju snickered.  “He’s got all these dates, but he doesn’t care.  You,” he pointed to Festus, “you got noooo dates.”  He kind of sang the word “no.”
    “I have an excuse,” said Festus.  “I was in seminary school.”
    Liam cast a skeptical look in Festus’ direction.  “How long ago was it that you dropped out?”
    “Yeah man, you got like a force field around you or something,” said Raju.  “Or you been sprayed with chick repellant.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Raju, I’m off.”  Liam leaned over to look at his reflection in the glass countertop and ran a hand through his hair.  He tried to care.
    “Dude,” said Raju, “you gotta put more effort into looking good than that.”
    Liam glanced up at Raju, a look of disgust on his face.  “Bite me.”  He grabbed his bag and headed for the door.  “Make sure you lock up.  And no toking the Buddha while I’m gone.”
    People – other than Festus, of course – were always trying to set him up with women.  And every couple of months or so, Liam relented.  But it never amounted to anything.  There was nothing wrong with the women.  They were always nice, smart, attractive – whatever.  He