Page 144 of Dead Vengeance

His eyes close, right there in the middle of the room, and he just stands there.

“Archer?”

His lips are moving, but no sound is coming out. His hands shake just a little. It’s like he’s slipped into some sort of trance with no—or very little—warning.

The guy at the desk is back to his busy-work, or playing solitaire, or whatever he was doing, and is paying no attention to us. Which is good because Archer then opens his eyes, stares at absolutely nothing, and says, “See that guy at the desk behind me?”

“Yes,” I reply, confounded. “Yes, I’m aware of his existence.”

Still staring into space, he replies, “Is there any chance you could hop in there and give me some help?”

I glance back at the guy. “What? Like into his office?”

Archer’s head turns, and I get a slight shock when his warm eyes focus on me. “Just a second, honey.”

“What?”

“What?” he says, face snapping forward again. “No, I know he’s not very handsome. That isn’t really the point.”

I wait another moment in pure befuddlement, then, “Oh, thank you! It’ll just take a second.”

He swivels around, settles eyes on the man behind the desk, and watches with a grin on his face.

I cast my gaze back and forth between the two of them. Then something odd happens.

The lights flicker overhead.

The officer reels back from his screen, throws his gaze to the overhead lights, and he stops just like that. Staring upwards. Like he’s frozen.

He convulses, twice and dramatically, then his head drops back to its normal position, his hands stretching out in front as though he’s examining them. “Wow,” he utters. He jumps to his feet and passes those hands over his body as if he were… smoothing a dress? “Wow!” he repeats. “Look at me.” Then, beaming over at us, “Look at me, Archer! I’m a man!”

“And a vast improvement to him,” Archer replies, running over to the desk. “Okay, I won’t keep you long. All I need you to do is take that fob and push it against that little black box, then come out here and let us in there with you.”

“All right.” The man looks around excitedly. “What’s a fob?”

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“Don’t you recognise me, darling?” The man smiles at me in a way that I do, weirdly, kind of recognise. Some shift of the head, some movement of the lips.

But I plead, “Archer?”

Before he can answer, the officer gives a little bounce and says, “It’s me! Helena! And I’m in a man!”

Archer chuckles while my understanding of reality, for about the sixth time this week, breaks all apart and reforms itself.

“Y-you’ve…” I stutter. “You’ve possessed him?”

“Just for a second,” Archer answers swiftly. “We need to be in there, and this guy can take the blame for it if we get in trouble.” He raises his chin towards Helena’s belt. “That little round thing there. That’s a fob. When you press it to that black box, it will beep, and the door will unlock.”

She looks around like life is one giant puzzle, which I can relate to pretty hard right now. “Well, isn’t that clever?”

I can’t speak, so I just nod.

She steps away towards the door, then falls flat on the carpet. “Oh dear. Might take me a second to get the hang of his. Hold on.”

It does indeed take her a second. Several. Verging on a minute that I spend riddled with worry we’re somehow going to get found out for this, even as the logical part of me screams that this is brilliant.

How could we possibly get caught? I know there are CCTV cameras on us this whole time, but besides Archer slightly talking to himself for a moment, none of it looks remotely unusual. Other than the man flailing on the floor… But eventually he gets to his feet, or she does, and the body does a few paces of the room. Very proper shoulders up and back, an exaggerated swaying of the hips, but for all intents and purposes, it’s a relatively successful walk across the room.