The Masked Truth Read Online Free PDF Page A

States a year ago, him and Mum—
I think what you need, Maximus, is a change of scenery, and what I won’t mention, dear boy, is that by “change of scenery” I really mean let’s both run across the ocean and find someplace where no one knows what you did
.
    A year here means it isn’t as if these men speak a foreign language. He understands their words just fine. The problem is that he has to keep fighting against the voice in his head that whispers this isn’t real, that the meds actually
aren’t
working, that, yes, the alien heads do appear to be masks but that’s only because the logic center of his brain hasn’t completely shut down during this particular hallucination.
    Three men in alien masks. The one speaking is the man who grabbed Riley. He wears a bulbous gray head. One of the others looks like a cross between an insect and a robot … with braids. Max vaguely recalls seeing it before. A film, maybe? He isn’t really into films. Reading is his thing. Reading and writing—wild stories that everyone always told him were so creative and vivid and how did you ever come up with that, Max my boy, and that’s some serious imagination there, and you’ll be a writer one day, mark my words, a famous one like Stephen King or Dean Koontz, and you’ll put me in your book then, won’t you, ha-ha.
    No one says that to him anymore. Now it’s: Hmm, there’s some disturbing stuff here, son, and is this what you see in your head, and did you really dream this up or were you documenting one of your hal-oo-sin-aa-shuns. That’s how his American doctor says it. Hal-oo-sin-aa-shuns. Like one of those words you read but never have to say out loud, and when you do, it’s not quite right.
    Bloody hell, Maximus.
Focus
.
    Can’t. Sorry. One of the symptoms. Disorganized thought. Look it up.
    No, Max. That’s just you. Always has been. Brain flitting like a hummingbird on speed
.
    Because
it
has always been there. Waiting to pop up like a funhouse skeleton. You thought you were normal, kid? Surprise!
    No, I’m quite certain no one ever called you normal, Max. Don’t go blaming the crazy for everything
.
    Why not? It fits the symptoms. You want to know another one? Hearing voices.
    He squeezes his eyes shut. What was he thinking …? Right. About the aliens.
    The third guy wears a mask he recognizes from
Star Wars
. That’s one film he’s seen a few times, because it’s an excellent lesson on story structure and the universal mono-myth of the hero. He’ll call that one Star Wars. The other is Braids. And the one talking? Gray.
    “So the next step,” Gray says, “is to contact Mr. Highgate, tell him not to phone the police and then send him a proof-of-life video and an ear. Preferably Aaron’s.” Gray laughs, as if this is hilarious. Even his confederates don’t join in.
    “Kidding,” Gray says. “Well, maybe not about the ear, but we’ll see how Aaron here comports himself. The rest? Hollywood bullshit. Everyone with half a brain calls the police. So that’s where we start. Aaron? Smile.”
    Gray raises an iPhone and Aaron scowls.
    “You’re a natural,” Gray says. “Now, let me send that to your daddy, and in about twenty minutes I expect this place to be surrounded by cops. Unless your daddy’s busy tonight—screwing his girlfriend or screwing over another company—because that would be very inconvenient.”
    Aaron says nothing.
    “There, picture sent. Video even, with a time stamp. Yes, I did the proof-of-life thing, as cliché as it is. Now, the next steps, kiddies …”
    He keeps talking, but Max’s attention slides away. This isn’t real. Cannot be real.
Kidnapped at a therapy sleepover? Really, Maximus? You’re losing your creative touch. You need to start writing again. Give that imagination a workout
.
    Oh, believe me. It’s had a workout. Just ask Justin.
    Now, Max. You weren’t thinking clearly. It’s not your fault
.
    Sod off.
    He looks over at Riley and focuses on her