The interior of the warehouse was the domain of shadows that moved to the flickering light of two torches. Many stores crowded the room; piled sacks of wheat, bundles of uniforms, hanging salted meats, tools, munitions, and gun powder packed the room.
Two men faced Robert when he entered the large room. One Lieutenant Pace leaned against kegs of water, a tired and pale boy, while his mirror image stood on the opposite side of the room by the gunpowder, appearing hale and hearty.
The real Pace looked to Robert with hooded eyes. “That’s not me,” he whispered hoarsely, still exhausted from the run. He pointed across the room.
“But it is who you’ve become.” Robert calmly drew his revolver and thumbing back the hammer. “That was you at the battle commanding the army you created with hatred for all things southern, not that.” He waved the pistol at the beast, who simply watched the men with hungry eyes.
“I didn’t understand.” Pace shook his head.
“I disagree,” Robert spoke with ease, measuring his words as he watched the creature. “I think that for months you have embraced your new friend because your goals are the same. The only difference between the two of you is the Robber King was never human while you have endeavored to remove your humanity to join it.”
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“I am curious,” Robert continued after Pace failed to respond. “Did you cause the flooding in the quarry or did it?” Once more, Robert gestured uselessly at the beast with the revolver; no bullets could harm the King.
“Yes,” most of the weakness departed the boy like a mask removed from a grotesque face. He straightened more and seemed to smile with irony as he spoke; the second man who inhabited Lieutenant Pace finally appearing. This was the man who had allowed General Cornell to die, the man who glorified in pain. “Waxed gunpowder in cracks I found while inspecting the wall.”
Robert nodded. Of course, anything said by Pace might be a lie from the beast, but they never knew he had found the powder pellet. The confession was probably true and given because the boy thought he had won. He almost pitied Pace and what it must be like to live with a hidden monster within a man’s soul.
“You killed thousands of men,” Robert shook his head. He understood at this moment that it was his own struggle to keep humanity that prevented his acceptance of the truth. There were answers for everything that had occurred on Coal Island, if he only worked, to be honest.
Robert brought the pistol up and pointed it at the real Pace. “Join your friend over there.”