The Dead Man: Hell in Heaven (9 page)

“The truce still holds,” Matt said sharply, before the assembled Gilhoolies could start across the street. “For both sides.”

“For the moment,” Orfamay said. “But all this parlay wears me out. You got something to say, say it fast.”

Mouse took a deep breath and held it. Matt waited. This was the moment everything depended on.

“Orfamay Vetch,” Mouse said, then broke off.

“You get ten more seconds, girl,” Orfamay said. “Then I tell Tiny here to start breaking off one of your brother’s fingers for every second you make me wait.”

The giant grinned at that.

“Orfamay Vetch,” Mouse said, and this time the words came tumbling out. “Since my brother is a prisoner, I am the acting head of all the Gilhoolies and the Hogginses, too. And in that role, to you and to all the Vetches and Runcibles who are now or who ever have been, I have come to apologize for all the harm we have ever done you.”

There were gasps from inside the store. Across the street, a confused muttering arouse, as Gilhoolies tried to determine if they’d heard what they thought they did.

Orfamay peered at her closely, as if looking for evidence of trickery. “Am I supposed to fall down in gratitude for those words, girl?” she said finally. “And then let you stick a knife in my ribs when I’m down on the ground.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” Mouse said. “I’ve said what my family needed to say. And now we’re done fighting forever. You can do whatever you want. We’re out.”

Now the confusion from the other side of the street was gone. In its place was an angry murmur. Mouse whirled around to face her relatives. “We’ve lost too much for too long,” she shouted to them. “We are done. Now one of you get up there and cut my cousin’s body down. He’s going to have a proper funeral.”

Mouse started to walk back across the street. Orfamay’s hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back. “You think you can just stop this feud all on your own?” she hissed. “Blood goes back generations.”

“And ends with this one,” Mouse said.

“You think this pathetic excuse for a lawgiver’s going to protect you, he’s the first one going down,” Orfamay said.

“He’s not our lawgiver,” Mouse said. “There’s only one law for the Gilhoolies from here out. No more fighting.”

Orfamay studied her carefully. “It’s not going to work.”

“I told you, there’s nothing to work or not work,” Mouse said. “It just is.”

Matt felt a swelling of pride. This girl, or this woman who was stuck in a girl’s body, had just stood up to endless years of bloody tradition. And he had led to her this point. Killing Joan had been nothing compared to this.

“Almost,” Orfamay said, a thoughtful tone creeping into her voice. “It’s almost enough.”

“I don’t have anything more to give,” Mouse said.

“This fight didn’t start between families,” Orfamay said. “It was a cause between two individuals, one Vetch and one Gilhoolie, over a piece of land. The others were all dragged in. We need to finish this the way it started. Then it can end.”

Mouse froze, then turned back to Orfamay. “The two family leaders?” she said. “We fight it out, and then everyone else is out forever.”

Orfamay chuckled and held up the stump where her hand used to be. “I’m not at full strength, girl. Neither is your leader.” She gave the giant a sign, and he dropped Vern to the ground in a heap. “We each choose our champion.”

Mouse looked uncertain. “And then it’s over? Whoever wins?”

“And then it’s over.” Orfamay raised her voice so she could be heard by everyone in the store and on the street. “Whoever wins, the fight is over.”

Mouse looked at Matt, but turned back before he could offer his opinion. “I’ll fight for our side.”

Orfamay broke into a wide grin. “And my petite nephew will fight for ours.”

The giant held up his hands as if the victory was already his.

Mouse paled. Matt pulled her aside. “You can’t do this,” he hissed. “You’ll be killed.”

“And the others will be free forever,” Mouse said. “As they would have been years ago. You’re the one who told me that, remember?”

He did. At every stage he had made a choice, and while they all seemed to be the right ones at the time, they had led inexorably to this point. To the brutal death of this woman who had shown so much courage.

Orfamay spoke out to the crowds again. “These are the terms: We will have one fighter from the Vetch family and one from the Gilhoolies. Whatever happens, this ends our feud forever. Does anybody object?”

There was silence from the crowd. And then Matt stepped up to the porch. “I object,” he said. “If you set Vetch against Gilhoolie, the hate will go on forever no matter what you say in advance.”

Orfamay sneered at him. “Do you have a better suggestion, lawgiver?” she said.

“I do,” Matt said. “I will fight in her place.”

The rules were simple: two men start, one man finishes.

Matt and the giant faced off against each other in the center of Main Street. Matt clutched his axe; the giant held a curved blade so large it must have come from some kind of harvesting machine. The sides of the street were packed with Vetches and Gilhoolies, each sticking with their own people. Mouse and Orfamay stood together on the porch in front of the general store, the girl he’d rescued cowering behind them.

Matt took one step toward the giant. “We don’t have to do this,” Matt said. “We can set an example for both families. Just set down our weapons and walk away.”

The giant thought this over. “I can set down my weapon,” he said finally. He dropped his blade on the ground.

Matt allowed himself a sigh of relief. He’d had his share of fights before, but he’d never even seen anyone this big, let alone tried to battle him. And even if he fought and won, what would be the point? The big man would be injured or dead and how would anyone be better off?

But the giant wasn’t done yet. “I don’t need a weapon.” Before Matt could drop his axe, the giant reached out and grabbed him in his enormous palms. He raised Matt above his head and threw him down on the asphalt.

Matt landed hard on his shoulder, his left arm going numb from the impact. The axe flew out of his hand. He felt his clothes, then his skin tearing away as he skidded down the road.

Somehow the giant got ahead of him before he came to a stop. He put out one massive foot and stomped. Matt could hear his ribs crack. He let out a strangled scream.

“I
am
a weapon,” the giant crowed. He bent down and picked Matt up again. He didn’t throw him this time. Instead he held Matt off the ground with one hand, then slapped him across his head with the other. It was like being hit by a steamroller.

For a moment, everything went black. When Matt’s eyes worked again, what he saw was the asphalt rising toward him. While he was out, the giant had hurled him back in the other direction.

Matt threw up his arms to protect his face and landed on both wrists. Jagged bolts of pain shot up through his wrists. He tried to get up, but as soon as he was on his knees, one of the giant’s boots slammed into his stomach, sending him flying back down the street, his head bouncing off the asphalt.

Matt gasped for breath and felt blood filling his mouth. He spit it on the ground, where it merged with all that had spilled from Vetch and Gilhoolie the night before. He was one of them now, another victim or, increasingly unlikely, another victor in this endless war.

Was this why Mr. Dark had sent him to Heaven? To show him that’s all he ever was, just another faceless combatant in a conflict that would never end? Or just to get him caught up in a fight that didn’t matter so he’d forget about the one that did?

There was a skittling noise on the ground and Matt felt something hard hit his hand. It was the handle of his axe. One of the spectators had kicked it to him.

Matt grabbed his weapon and felt a strength flowing through him. It was nothing magical. The axe was no Mjolnir and he couldn’t be further from godhead. But it was
him.
He was whole.

Matt looked up and saw the giant standing over him again, one mighty foot raised in the air, ready to bring it down on his skull and smash his brains out on the ground.

As the foot came down, Matt rolled out from under it. The foot slammed into the ground and Matt thought he could feel the vibration through the asphalt. The giant wheeled toward him, lifting his foot.

Matt saw exactly what he had to do. He lashed out with the axe, striking just under the giant’s kneecap. The giant let out a howl of pain, but Matt didn’t stop. He brought the axe straight up, slamming it between the giant’s legs. The giant doubled over, clutching his groin. Matt jumped to his feet, ignoring the screaming pain from his ribs, and brought the axe down on the back of the giant’s head.

The giant tumbled to the ground, one hand on his groin, the other on the back of his neck.

“You would be dead right now,” Matt said to him, “if I’d used the blade instead of the butt.”

Matt became aware of a chanting from the Gilhoolie side of the street. “Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.”

And then realized with a shock that the chant had spread to the Vetches as well, as they urged him to finish off their own champion.

“Is that what you want?” Matt said to the giant. “Do you want me to kill you? Or do you yield?”

The chant grew louder. Matt could see the giant’s lips move, but he couldn’t hear the words over the shouting. Matt put his ear to the giant’s lips.

“I want to live.”

Matt turned to the crowd. He held up his axe, and they fell silent.

“It’s over,” he said. “It’s all over.”

The road curved down the mountain in front of him. Matt walked slowly toward the switchbacks that led away from Heaven. He was feeling pain now, but he knew that would ease as his body healed.

He couldn’t tell if the people of Heaven had been sorry to see him go. He hadn’t stuck around to find out. What he’d seen at the very end had filled him with such disgust he couldn’t bear to stay another second.

It had been while the giant was down on the ground and Matt was waiting to see if he’d yield. The whole crowd had been pumping their fists into the air, calling for the giant’s death.

And on the porch of the general store, Mouse and Orfamay had been united in bloodlust, calling for Matt to murder the Vetch champion. And the girl he’d rescued, the girl who had been stunned into shock by the violence that had been done to her and her lover, was yelling with them.

He’d done what he could. He got them to agree to peace after so many years of war. The looks on the faces of both family leaders told him they might be killing each other again soon.

Or maybe not. Maybe he really had made this place better than it was before he got there.

As he passed beyond the town limit, a thick fog had come down and settled over Heaven and blocked it from his view. When the fog lifted he wasn’t even sure the town would be there anymore.

What he did know was that he wouldn’t be around to find out.

Matt made the turn around the first switchback, heading for the highway and never looking back.

THE END
But Matt Cahill will return in
THE DEAD MAN #4: THE DEAD WOMAN
by David McAfee

Lee Goldberg is the bestselling author of the thriller THE WALK and the MONK series of novels. William Rabkin writes the wildly successful PSYCH books and is the author of “Writing the Pilot.” And together, they are the authors of DEAD MAN #1: FACE OF EVIL and have written and/or produced such hit TV series as “Diagnosis Murder,” “SeaQuest,” “Nero Wolfe,” “Martial Law,” “Monk” and “The Glades.”