The Perdition Score (29 page)

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Authors: Richard Kadrey

BOOK: The Perdition Score
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Her eyes are steady but she doesn't have sweat or a heartbeat for me to check. I go to Hesediel.

“What do you think? Is she telling the truth?”

“I think so.”

“Me too. Which stinks. I was hoping for more from her.”

“Mortals will believe many things if they think it will relieve their suffering, if even for a moment.”

“We just hate missing
The Brady Bunch
is all.”

Not a peep from Hesediel.

Tough crowd.

“Holly sounds stupid enough to hook up with Quay without even knowing what Wormwood is.”

Hesediel calls to Holly.

“Did you know the mortal Norris Quay when you were alive?”

“No. We met here. When things were getting bad. You know? He saved me.”

“Naturally.”

Bill and Candy come over. Bill keeps the Colt on her.

“If she's not in Wormwood, we should let her go, right?” says Candy.

I shake my head.

“She's not in Wormwood but she's doing important work for them. And she'll probably do even worse when she gets in.”

“Yeah, but she hasn't done it
yet
. If Quay doesn't show or does something stupid, I don't want to kill her. She's just scared and lost.”

“She's in Hell. She did something to get here.”

“Still.”

I look at Candy and remember what a mess she was when Doc Kinski died. A bit lost and freaked out herself.

“We won't kill her. But we can't let her or Quay know that.”

Candy takes a breath.

“Thanks.”

Hesediel looks at me funny.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I simply didn't expect compassion from the Abomination.”

“If you liked that trick, you should see me juggle.”

“How long do we have to wait?”

I check my phone. The battery is down three quarters.

“Not long. Everybody relax.”

Candy finds a folding chair and brings it to Holly. She's too nervous to actually sit. She sort of perches on it like a bird ready to take off at the slightest sound.

Bill and I have Maledictions. Hesediel moves to the other side of the room to avoid the smoke. Candy keeps an eye on Holly.

“If this all goes askew, it was good seeing you again, son,” says Bill.

“You too. But don't worry. We're going to make it.”

“You that certain?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I'm taking Candy to Disney World.”

“I hope you make it too.”

“I hope I survive it. I hate that mouse.”

I check my phone.

“Any minute now.”

We toss our cigarettes and everyone goes on alert. I get Holly to her feet and kick the chair away. Take her to the front of the stage. The others keep lookout behind us.

In a few minutes, Hesediel says, “There.”

She points at a figure moving through the grandstand halfway up the hill. He's waving a piece of cloth like a white flag.

We wait. Let him come to us. Bill and Hesediel scan the tree line for shooters.

When he finally gets to the stage, Norris Quay says, “Holly, dear, are you all right? Have they hurt you?”

“No. I'm okay.”

She touches the cut over her eye.

“Except for the accident.”

Quay looks better than the last time I saw him. He was a broken-down old man then. Free of his body, he looks a lot more spry.

“Hell agrees with you, Norris. You look like a young Tony Curtis.”

“Don't kid me. I look like an old man who's been taking his vitamins.”

“Does that include black milk?”

He shakes his head.

“The black milk isn't for us. But celestials can't get enough of it.”

“You always find a profit angle, don't you?”

He moves closer, around some broken stage lights.

“Don't act surprised, Stark. It's what we do.”

“What kind of odds are there on me killing you and Miss Cranor?”

“Less than you letting us go.”

“Why's that?”

“Because I'm going to give you everything you want. I'll
take you right to the source of black milk. Explain everything. What you do about it after that is your business. That's if you promise to let me and Holly leave afterward.”

“Why would you show us black milk?”

“Because there isn't a damned thing you can do about it.”

“You're that sure.”

“Quite,” he says happily.

“If you're straight with us, we'll let you go.”

He points at the stage.

“I want to hear it from the angel. They're a bit more trustworthy than a murderer.”

I look at Hesediel.

“It's agreed,” she says. “If you take us to the source, you will be free to go.”

He slaps his hands together.

“See how easy that was? Well, should we get started?”

When I let go, Candy takes Holly's arm. I point with the Glock.

“Our truck is over there.”

“Yes. I saw it on the way in. A little small for all of us, don't you think? I have a van out front. It'll be much more comfortable.”

I look back at the others.

“The man has a point,” says Bill. “Any closer in the truck and we'll all know each other in the biblical sense.”

I turn to Hesediel.

“He's right.”

I call down to Quay.

“Same deal as before, Norris. Any tricks and you both die. Holly first.”

“Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Norris?” says Holly quietly.

“Relax, my dear. These champions of the oppressed will have what they want and we'll be on our way soon.”

“If you say so.”

“I do, my dear. Now, let's away, shall we?”

“Stop,” I say.

Everyone looks at me.

This whole thing might be the end of every human soul, but I have to know something and now.

“In case I have to shoot you later, tell me about Liliane. I get that she was working for you, but why sic her on Vidocq?”

Quay looks disappointed in the question.

“Do you think your friends are special? That they should be exempt from our work?”

“Is that all it was? Hurting my friends to get to me?”

“It was Liliane's idea actually. We gave her Vidocq as a gift. Hurting you and your Merry Men was a bonus.”

“Wormwood should leave my other friends alone.”

He flicks something off his shirt.

“We'll take that under advisement.”

Q
UAY LEADS US
through the grandstands to where one of his black vans is parked. Holly walks with him. I hold my gun to his head. Candy, Bill, and Hesediel keep a lookout for an ambush. But nothing happens.

We make it to the van and everyone piles in, Norris behind the wheel while the others get in the back. I stay up front with my gun in his side. He starts the van and we drive back down Highland the way we came. Then we keep moving south.

We go all the way down Highland until it turns into South La Brea Avenue. Moving around the debris and burned-out cars, it's a long, slow drive.

“Tell me, Norris. What's black milk?”

“You'll see soon enough.”

“Is this where it's manufactured?”

“In one sense, yes. In another, no.”

“Don't be cute. I can still shoot Holly Golightly.”

“And then you'll end up with nothing but a heartbroken old man for your troubles.”

“You said you'd tell us, so tell us,” says Candy.

“Are any of you history buffs?” says Quay. “No? I didn't think so. Then you won't be acquainted with the term
Panzerschokolade
.”

I keep the gun in his side.

“I know the word ‘panzer.' It's German for tank.”

“And
chokolade
is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate.
Panzerschokolade
. Tank chocolate.”

“You're feeding angels metal bonbons?”

“In a sense, yes.
Panzerchokolade
was a treat the German high command gave their tank drivers back during the war. It kept them awake for days. Made them brave. Even reckless, but able to accomplish remarkable things and win battles they should have lost.”

“You're talking about speed. Black milk is speed for angels.”

He glances at me.

“The angel who paid you a visit on Hollywood Boulevard, what was her name?”

“Hadraniel,” says Hesediel.

“That's it.”

He glances at me.

“Did she seem a bit different to you? Not like other angels you'd met?”

“Yeah. She was out of her fucking mind.”

“Oh, she was in her mind, but her mind had been transformed by
Panzerschokolade
into something more formidable than before. You must be acquainted with the word ‘berserker'?”

“Crazy fucking Vikings who worked themselves up into a screaming lather and ran straight into a fight. You're saying that black milk turns angels into berserkers.”

“Precisely.”

Keeping my gun pressed into Quay's side, I look at Hesediel.

“Does that sound right to you?”

“I'm afraid so,” she says. “Their strength and courage is unexplainable by any normal standards.”

I turn back to Quay.

“You're keeping the war in Heaven going. Why?”

“One secret at a time, Sandman Slim. One secret at a time. Now, you wanted to know how black milk is manufactured.”

“Stop stalling.”

“The raw materials for black milk are found only here in Hell. Isn't that interesting?”

“Fascinating. Now I'll win next time I'm on
Jeopardy!

He steers us around a line of overturned school buses. There are no bodies anywhere. All the dead Hellions and damned souls are in Tartarus.

“We use rebel angels to move the raw black milk to Earth, where it's transformed from a poison into a miracle drug.”

“How is it done?”

“Geoffrey Burgess was about to cook us a new batch, but you ruined it.”

“I didn't see any potions in his house.”

“Of course not. It hadn't been manufactured yet. Think hard, Sandman Slim. I know that's not your best quality, but it's important.”

Slow as I am, I don't have to think about it too long.

“It was Nick. Burgess had Nick and I fucked that up.”

Quay claps his hands on the steering wheel.

“See? You can put those brain cells to work if you try, try, try.”

“What does Nick have to do with anything?”

“Black milk is processed in their bodies. Poison goes in and
Panzerschokolade
comes out.”

He looks at me. There's practically a twinkle in his eye.

“We milk the little bastards like cattle. Hence the term ‘black milk.'”

“You fucker,” sputters Candy. “You fucking fuck.”

“You're every bit as eloquent as I would expect Sandman Slim's paramour to be.”

I jab the gun into Quay's ribs.

“There's another kid missing back home. She's more cattle?”

“Of course. Her family is nothing. This is their chance to move up in the world.”

“And join the immortality club.”

“Yes, we keep a small amount of processed black milk for ourselves. Any family that sacrifices a child is admitted to the program.”

No one says anything for a minute. We spot some broken-down hellhounds. Gears and metal limbs scattered across the road.

“Admit it. It's a bargain,” says Quay. “Eternity for one brat. If it makes you feel better, the families are free to produce all the little tykes they want after that.”

“Are the new kids immortal too?”

Quay shakes his head.

“I'm afraid not. New kids mean new sacrifices. You see, shared secrets like this bind people together. It's the foundation of Wormwood.”

“A ritual,” says Hesediel.

“See? The angel understands.”

“So I've been told.”

“I don't have the words for what a low scoundrel you are,” says Wild Bill. “I thought I'd seen the worst in men back home. Clearly I was wrong.”

“Thank you, Bill. In Wormwood, we aim for excellence.”

I don't want to think about Quay's story. There's no way to prove it from down here. It could all be lies. Then again, why would he tell a lie he knows might piss us off so much that we kill him?

“What about the war in Heaven? Why is Wormwood picking sides?”

“We're not. And I'll explain all that in just a few more minutes. Until then, let's take in the sights, shall we?”

We continue across the I-10 freeway, all the way down to the 105.

On the other side are the ruins of an old water treatment plant. Quay parks the van by the entrance and starts to get out. I move the gun back to his head.

“Hold it. Bill, I'm going around to Quay's side. Keep him covered.”

“With pleasure.”

I move around the van slowly, looking for shooters or traps. When I get to the driver-side door, I pull Quay out. He doesn't resist. Bill steps out, then Candy—still holding her gun on Holly, though she's not even trying to look like she's serious.

The wind changes direction and the stink from the water plant is blinding. Quay just takes a deep breath and smiles.

“Here we are.”

“Are we going for a dip?”

“I wouldn't if I were you.”

He heads into the plant and we follow, me with my gun on him.

“Is this what you're telling us, Norris? That black milk is water? I don't believe you.”

“Of course it's not water,” he says.

He walks straight to the edge of the closest holding pond.

“Come closer, Sandman Slim. Take a whiff of the future.”

I have to hold my hand to my face until I get used to the stink.

“What are we doing here, Norris?”

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