Devil Said Bang (Sandman Slim 4)

It takes her a minute but finally Candy nods.

I give her the Sig pistol.

“This is a .45. The bullets are bigger, so there aren’t as many as your nine-millimeter and the kick is a lot harder. If you have to shoot, do it slowly and carefully.”

“I still want to go with you.”

“I know.”

When I’m outside the car, my cell rings. I’m not in the mood for a chat but my blood’s up, so I’ll give the crank caller a friendly “fuck you.”

“Hello.”

A voice breaks up then repeats itself.

“Stark? Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting.”

It’s Patty Templeton.

“I told you I’d call you. Wait for me in the lounge.”

“What are you talking about? I’m outside. On the corner by the freeway. You called and said you were coming by to pick me up.”

The anger turns to a sick feeling in my stomach.

“Listen, it’s a trick. Go back to the dreamers’ building now. Run!”

“Oh God.”

She forgets to hang up. I listen to hear her running. Panting. She excuses herself and then curses, pushing through crowds.

Over the tops of the nearby buildings, black plumes rise like twisters into the sky. Somewhere, the city is burning.

Patty screams, her voice distorting into an animal wail through the tiny phone speaker. Then the crowd screams. What follows is a sound I recognize from the arena. A blade cutting through the air. Little girl’s laughs drift from the phone with the bloody, drowning gurgle of someone choking on their own blood.

The ground shakes beneath my feet. I expect to see Cherry but the shaking goes on. Windows up and down the street shatter and fall. The sound is like another thousand knives going into a girl’s throat. I brace myself against the Metro until the shaking stops. It takes a few seconds, and when it stops, I know that Patty Templeton is dead.

I don’t know how many people, Hellions, and hell beasts I’ve seen die over the years. The ones in the arena or the streets all went down the same way. In front of me. The worst times in the arena were when the games were going while I waited in my cell. All I could do was listen to the fighting and dying. Listening was so much worse than seeing. It was like dying by whispers. You were never sure if that other fighter was dead, paralyzed, or being eaten alive by a scaly beast. Dying by phone is no way to go. Not for anyone. Not for anyone I know.

Candy puts her head out the window.

“Are you okay?”

“Great. Peachy.”

“Who was that on the phone?”

I shake my head.

“No one. Wrong number.”

I start across the street.

Getting through Blackburn’s wards is just like last time. Slow and steady wins the race. He’s added two more layers since I was here but I move through them just like the others. It’s all about concentration and channeling Lucifer’s hate through the armor so it radiates like hellfire. No earthly magic is going to stand up to that.

No one is in the front of the house, so I head straight into the parlor. Blackburn is sitting at his desk like he’s waiting for me. Tuatha, his wife, is in a chair across the room. She looks worse than last time. Like she gave up martinis for formaldehyde. Perched on the end of Blackburn’s desk is Brigitte.

“Hello, Jimmy,” she says. “I was hoping you wouldn’t come back here.”