Chapter Four

When Arte made it back to the nightclub, he found Snakes thankfully alright, but engaged in a heated argument with Gallito in the main room.

"What do you think you're doing, bringing your spiders in here?!" Snakes spat.

Gallito was currently holding a small cage in which one such spider was all too visible. He held it up, silently taunting Snakes with it as he spoke. "Oh, but my spiders are harmless unless I set them loose on someone, amigo," he said coolly and smoothly. He shoved the cage in Snakes' face to emphasize his point.

Snakes flinched but held his ground. "How are we gonna build up a decent reputation if people do things like this? Most civilized people don't wanna eat if they can look over and see a giant life-threatening spider! Even if it wasn't a danger, it's not appetizing in the least!"

Gallito's lip curled. "That is only your opinion, Señor Tolliver," he retorted. "I find my spiders very beautiful."

"You would," Snakes snapped. "But if you won't take my word on not having them around, wait and talk to Miss Posey when she comes back."

"I will do that," Gallito replied. He turned and left with a flourish, paying Arte no attention whatsoever.

Arte gawked after him, then looked to Snakes. "Well, I would say you handled that situation quite professionally," he commented.

"Only with my luck, Miss Posey will side with him," Snakes grumbled.

"Let's hope not," Arte said. "I happen to agree with you."

Snakes sighed. "What's happening out there, anyway?"

Arte sobered. "Voltaire went after Little Pinto," he reported.

Snakes leaned on the bar. "Hurt him bad?"

"I don't think so," Arte said, "but Miss Posey seemed very worried."

"She would be," Snakes grumbled. "She likes that jerk."

Arte blinked. "That . . . what?"

"Eh?" Snakes blinked too. "What'd I say?"

"You called Little Pinto a 'jerk,'" Arte said. "I don't believe I've ever heard that term before."

"Oh." Snakes shrugged. "I wonder why I said that. It must mean something like a cad or a creep, because that's what he is."

"Not that I disagree, but why are you so adamant about him?" Arte wondered.

"I can just feel it in his whole attitude," Snakes said. "I can't stand being around him." He shuddered. "Miss Posey thinks I'm crazy, but I'm not."

"I don't think you're crazy," Arte mused. "There's definitely more going on here than meets the eye. I just wish I knew what!"

Snakes brought a hand to his head. "Thinking about it just makes my head hurt worse." He went to a water dispenser in the corner and filled a cup.

Arte wandered over with him. "Now that's a very handy device," he blinked.

"Yeah," Snakes nodded. "Some lady delivered it. She said her boss makes them. Every business in town has one."

"Oh?" Arte studied the strange invention. "Any names?"

A shrug. "The girl is named Antoinette, I think," Snakes said.

"Dr. Loveless's girl!" Arte exclaimed. "Then there must be something wrong with this device somewhere!"

Snakes jumped. "Huh?! I don't get it! Why does this doctor have it in for us? And what could be wrong with a water machine?!"

"It could be injecting a secret ingredient into the water that's causing everyone to forget things that happened," Arte said. "Coming to think of it . . . oh no. . . ." A sickened look spread over his features. "I think we have this same logo on our water canteens! We were sent new ones along with some other supplies!"

Snakes stared at him. "So what does that mean?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to have this water tested!" Arte declared. He filled a cup of his own. "I'll be on our train."

"Okay," Snakes said slowly.

Arte cringed when he hurried outside and spotted Cyril the Firebug standing in the middle of the road, lighting matches, and watching with crazed delight as the flames danced through the night. At his feet was a small pile of already-used matches. Since he wasn't currently causing any danger, Arte opted to ignore him for now. The most important thing was to find out what was in the water, and what to do to reverse it. Now that he realized he and Jim had drunk water from canteens made by the same brand as the water dispenser, a nagging thought was taking hold of him.

Could they have forgotten things too? What if they were also pawns in Loveless's game and they didn't even know it?

xxxx

Jim was sickened by Dr. Loveless's announcement.

"You've gone through all of this just with the intent of killing off the entire gang?" he demanded. "Why? I mean, you could have just arranged accidents for all of them without setting up an entire town for them to be in."

"But it's so much more fun this way," Loveless giggled. "Watching them go about their business all over town and not even remembering key things about themselves and their relationships. . . . How else could I see Miss Posey and Snakes Tolliver peacefully working together? And even though they don't remember, somewhere in their minds they still do. Snakes is terrified of Little Pinto, for instance."

"Do you know why?" Jim asked.

"Oh, of course I know why, Mr. West," Loveless said. "And so do you."

"What?!" Jim stiffened. "What are you saying, Doctor?"

"I couldn't very well have my little party without you and Mr. Gordon," Loveless crowed. "You were both part of my plan from the start."

"Then . . . we've forgotten things too," Jim realized in horror. "You gave us the drug somehow!"

"Very good, Mr. West," Loveless smiled. "And now that you're here and you've figured that out, I'm afraid we can't let you leave to tell Mr. Gordon and everyone else."

Voltaire sneered, lumbering closer to Jim.

Jim held his ground. "You're going to kill me right now?"

"Oh, of course not," Loveless retorted. "You know I like to give you a sporting chance, after all we've been through together. But . . ." He grinned. "I am going to make you forget what you just learned."

Voltaire punched Jim hard without warning. Jim fell back to the floor.

"Of course, when you wake up, you'll be in one of my clever deathtraps," Loveless smiled. "Let's see whether you can get out of it."

Voltaire picked Jim up with one arm and tossed him over his shoulder.

"And with all that blood on the ground, Mr. Gordon will no doubt find us before long," Loveless scowled. "We'll have to move faster than I had originally planned. Oh well." He smiled. "This little town will be going out with a bang. And just in case anyone possibly escapes, we'll have framed the Posey gang's explosions expert for the crime."

Voltaire grinned in sick delight.

xxxx

There were few things Arte enjoyed as much as working in the lab. Coming up with new inventions was one of his passions, and as he was unraveling the mysteries of the water, he was becoming more and more fascinated and enthused. Once he pinpointed the foreign ingredient and what it did and how, he could start developing a cure.

It was certainly a disturbing addition to the drinking water—a drug that literally blocked certain memories. But there had to be more to it; after all, memories hadn't just been blocked, they had been changed. If the drug hadn't altered memories, perhaps something else had caused that, such as a post-hypnotic suggestion. Yes . . . that had to be it. The drug put its victims into a state of susceptibility, enabling someone to tell them other ways of looking at something . . . remembering something. . . . It was a very dangerous creation. No doubt Dr. Loveless had invented it, but why?

Arte's thoughts wandered, but promptly snapped to as he started isolating what had been slipped into the water. It was fascinating and disturbing all at once. It had similarities with other mind-altering drugs Arte had encountered in the lab, but it was different too. Of course, what else could be expected from Dr. Miguelito Loveless?

With some unfamiliar properties, Arte couldn't be sure he was making the right antidote. It might only work in part, although even that would be an improvement. He would have to test it on himself to be sure. He dropped the finished product into a glass of fresh water, untainted by the canteens, and picked it up, hesitating with a grimace. What was it he and Jim didn't remember? Why were they part of this sick little scheme, and how had it began? There was only one way to find out.

There wasn't any particular change at first, save for a rather nasty aftertaste. But then, slowly, it was like a curtain being pulled away from part of Arte's mind. He recollected why Snakes and the other gang members were alive. He knew about the incident with Snakes and the bomb on a ship. He remembered why Snakes had a color photograph.

He still couldn't bring to mind why he and Jim had been taken, or why Dr. Loveless was doing all of this, but those memories would surely unlock in time, as well as others. Right now he remembered enough to press forward. He took up several doses of his antidote, as well as more fresh water, and rushed out the door. It was unlikely that most of the gang would listen to him, but maybe there was one who would.

xxxx

Snakes was sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, when Arte finally burst back into the club. "Snakes!"

The Southerner jumped, spilling liquor across the counter. "What?!"

"I've got it!" Arte's eyes gleamed. "I isolated the drug in the water and I've made an antidote! Of course, it won't restore memories all at once, but little by little I'm getting things back." He held out a glass. "You take it in untainted water."

Snakes shrank back. "I don't want to remember being dead. I told you that."

"I know, but then there's all the rest, Snakes." Arte looked pleadingly into the man's eyes. "You can't have the good without the bad, and I'm remembering a lot of good. So many things happened after Dr. Faustina brought you and the others back to life. You became our friend, and you've made other friends, like those people in the photograph. I know you would want to remember them."

"But . . ." Snakes trembled. "Then I'll remember Little Pinto . . . and what he did. . . ."

"You'll remember anyway if you stop drinking the tainted water," Arte said quietly. "This just speeds the process up a bit. And Snakes, I may need your help."

Snakes snorted. "You need my help? Oh brother, are you desperate."

"You know the town," Arte persisted. "You know where everything is, and I may need to move fast. Jim still isn't back, so there's a good chance he's been taken prisoner by Dr. Loveless. I'm going to follow the blood on the ground and find him."

"So then you already know how to get to him," Snakes said. "What could I do?"

"Like I said, you could tell me more about the town," Arte said. "Or I might need back-up when I find Jim."

Snakes folded his arms. "You guys have always managed pretty well on your own."

Arte smiled a bit. "True, but sometimes we just barely get out of messes. A friend couldn't hurt. But if you don't want to, that's fine." He set the glass down. "I'll leave this here for you."

Snakes gave it a wary look. "You have no way of knowing I'll drink that, or that whether I do or not, I'll help you."

"No, but you have helped us," Arte said. "I think you will again." With that he turned to leave.

Snakes watched him go, then looked back to the glass on the counter. It was so tempting to just ignore it. But for some reason, he really didn't want Arte or Jim to be hurt. He didn't have to drink it to help them. If he did, though, maybe he would unlock a part of himself that would be important to remember during whatever fight they'd be up against.

He shuddered. "I'm not a fighter. . . ."

The scar on his hand caught his eye and he looked down at it. He was a fighter in some way, wasn't he? He had never given up, no matter how many odds were against him. He had been beat down by life again and again, but he had always got back up and insisted on continuing to try. Lying down and quitting was never an option.

He reached for the glass.

xxxx

Jim wasn't sure what kind of condition he would awaken in, but he wasn't quite expecting to find himself hanging upsidedown in what appeared to be a giant tank filling with water. He was alone in the room, but Dr. Loveless was no doubt nearby, watching this new struggle for life unfold.

Fear flashed through Jim's eyes. He had to work fast. His hands weren't restrained, so he quickly opened his belt buckle and removed two grenade pellets. The water was steadily pouring in; already it was almost to his head. In desperation he threw one pellet at the side of the tank. The glass shattered, and water gushed out onto the wooden floor.

The second pellet he lobbed at the ceiling of the tank. He turned away, shielding his face with his hands as the second explosion took out a chunk of the ceiling and the chain restraining him. He crashed to the floor but was instantly up, unwrapping the remainder of the chain and tossing it aside.

"Bravo, Mr. West."

Jim looked up with a start. Loveless's voice was coming through some sort of speaker above him.

"I knew you would escape my little device."

"Now what?" Jim retorted. "I still don't understand your plan, Loveless. Except that you must have put more of your drug in that water and hoped that I would swallow enough to forget certain things."

"You always have been good at figuring things out," Loveless sneered. "Yes, that was the plan, but you've spoiled it."

"I still think there has to be more to what you're doing than just wanting to kill off all the gang members because you don't think they deserve a second chance," Jim said. "What if . . . let's say you have something against the person who brought them back, and you want to deal a serious blow to that person?"

"Sabotaging a fellow scientist?" Loveless scoffed. "Why, Mr. West, you know I don't go in for petty things like that."

"You might, if said scientist had done something that offended you and your twisted set of morals," Jim replied.

"And you think Dr. Faustina did such a thing?"

"Yes, by experimenting with things you believe shouldn't be done," Jim said. "You're repulsed by her ideas of reviving dead criminals."

"She dares to call herself a scientist?!" Loveless finally screeched. "Or to possibly think she's on the same level as myself, or better?!"

"Ah, so that's it," Jim said. "She contacted you and made some comment to that effect. So of course, you had to get back at her somehow. And what better way than by destroying her prize experiments?"

"Not just destroying them, Mr. West," Loveless replied, "but by also showing how to alter their memories more intricately than she did with her earliest experiments! In that way I establish myself as the greatest scientist!"

"I must admit that's impressive," Jim said, knowing he needed to tread cautiously now that Loveless was losing his composure.

"Of course it is! And I won't allow you to ruin my plans! When this town goes up, you're going with it!"

Alarm stabbed into Jim's veins. Loveless was blowing up the town?! "And just how long do we have before that happens?"

"I won't tell you exactly," Loveless said, "but it's less than an hour. And I've set it up so that Snakes will take the blame for the explosion!"

"Why Snakes?" Jim frowned. "I'll admit that with his background as an explosions expert he's a logical choice, but I'm sure this is about more than that. What is it you have against him so much more than the others?"

"He betrayed his employer," Loveless snapped. "What could be more dishonorable than that?"

"He doesn't deserve a chance to change his ways?"

"People like him never change their ways, Mr. West!" Loveless ranted.

"And neither do people like you, Doctor," Arte suddenly cried as he appeared in the doorway.

For a moment there was silence. Then, "I was wondering when you would come, Mr. Gordon. I was expecting you long before now."

"I had a few things to take care of first." Arte held a glass out to Jim. "Here, Jim."

Jim regarded it in surprise. "What's this?"

Arte smirked. "My antidote to Dr. Loveless's mind-altering drug. It will restore your memories more and more over the next hours."

Jim smirked too. "Good." He started to drink.

A panel opened up in the wall and Dr. Loveless emerged, flanked by Voltaire. "Ohh . . . you both think you're so smart, don't you?!" he ranted. "Well, I say it's time you were both taught another important lesson about meddling in my affairs."

Voltaire gave them a cruel sneer, eager to start the physical torment. Behind him came the security guards, all of them ready for Round Two of the fight . . . and all of them prepared to win this time.

Arte swallowed hard. "Somehow I think we're in for it."

Jim didn't disagree.