The Getaway God (Sandman Slim 6)

“What about Der Zorn Götter?” says Wells. “Your dead friend Hobaica said they were involved with the scene in the meat locker. This could be their work too.”

Julie Sola comes around a corner holding a computer tablet. She stops for a second and without thinking puts her hand to her face. Even though she’s wearing a respirator, this close to the chapel the smell is getting through.

“Yes? You have something?” says Wells.

She hands him the tablet. Then reluctantly slides off her respirator.

“We’ve found footprints and dirt throughout the facility. We need to get in there,” she says, nodding at the chapel, “but it’s pervasive. My guess is that we’ll find the same results.”

Wells touches the screen and the tablet lights up.

“What am I looking at here?”

“A chemical analysis of the soil samples. Indications of methane and hydrogen sulfide gases. Sand. Clay. Igneous rock and traces of crude oil.”

“And what does that tell us?”

“It’s the basic soil structure of Los Angeles. Not at street level. Underground.”

Wells hands Sola back the tablet.

“Thank you. Carry on,” he says. She turns away and slips her respirator back on. She opens the chapel doors and closes them again.

“I’m going to need help in there,” she says, and heads back down the hall the way she came.

Wells looks at the Shonin.

“Did you ask him any more about the caverns?”

“I was getting around to it,” the Shonin says. “You said you saw caves within the fire when you were in Hobaica’s mind. Do you remember anything more about them?”

I shake my head.

“Nothing more than I already said. I didn’t get a good look.”

Wells says, “There are old mines around the city. Tunnels where oil pipelines run. We’re thinking of doing a search of the whole shebang. What do you think of that?”

I nod, not happy with where this is going.

“Sounds good. Sounds smart.”

The Shonin says, “What happened in the chapel, this isn’t the first time there’s been a killing on a large scale. It’s just the first time Saint Nick has been bold enough to do it in public. In the past he would have hidden it as bodies mutilated in bus or train accidents. Saint Nick needs a place where he can do more of these experiments in private. What better than somewhere underground that no one even knows exists?”

“When do you want to start?”

“In a day or two,” says Wells. “We’ll need to bring in some equipment from back east.”

That’s it then. I have a day to do something about the cavern. Back when zombies were running wild, I found tunnels under L.A. full of the city’s dead. What’s worse, they opened onto Mr. Muninn’s private hidey-­hole from when he lived here. He’d been under the city collecting bits and pieces of every human civilization since probably the beginning of time. He had trinkets from the heyday of Hollywood all the way back to kingdoms as big as Rome that existed ice ages ago. And a lot of what’s in the cavern is magic and I don’t want anyone, especially not the Vigil, getting their hands on it. I need to know what to do about it, but I can’t figure it out on my own.

It’s settled then.

I’m heading back to Hell. Candy will be so pleased.

AND SHE IS.

Back at home she says, “I’m coming with you.”

“Yeah. When you’re sick. What a great time to skip off to Hell.”