Something clicks and the wall swings open. I grab Howard and shove him through. Push the wall back into place.
We’re back in the hunting lodge safe house. I collapse on the sofa.
“What is this place?” says Howard.
“A Sub Rosa meeting house.”
“Like the other place you kept me?”
“Bingo.”
He looks back over his shoulder.
“Are we safe?”
“For a little while.”
I get out my phone and text Abbot.
We’re at the LAX house. Golden Vigil outside. You might want to hurry.
A few seconds later I get, We’re on our way. Stay there.
Can’t. Have to get somewhere. Carlos says you need more spices in the kitchen.
Who’s Carlos?
I put the phone away.
“You ready to go?”
“Where?” says Howard.
“Wherever we’re doing the ritual.”
He nods. “We need to get to where the San Bernardino Freeway intersects with the 5.”
I try to visualize the place. My mind keeps wandering, but I get it.
“A crossroad. You need a crossroad for it to work.”
He pulls a sprig of something from one of his pockets.
“Are you surprised?”
I try to shake my head, but it hurts. Damn rigor mortis.
I say, “‘Go to the crossroads and call him three times.’”
It’s a line from F. W. Murnau’s Faust. I already made one bad bargain recently. Am I making another one? What if Howard gets away? What if he’s lying? What if, no matter what I tell myself, I’m so desperate to live and be with Candy that I’ll agree to anything? My mind is too fuzzy. I’m weak and I hurt too much to be sure.
“Invoking the Devil? I never took you for such a traditionalist,” says Howard. “Ludovico’s technique was much more modern and efficient.”
I look at my hands. A couple of my fingernails have fallen off. I’m leaving bloodstains on the sofa.
“Do I need to do anything?”
“Can you stand?”