Название: The Sandman Slim Series Books 1-4
Автор: Richard Kadrey
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежное фэнтези
isbn: 9780007552511
isbn:
“No.”
Aelita’s face turns red and she screams. Tears are streaming down her red face. She takes my hand again and then drops it.
“Abomination,” she whispers. Then she screams, “Abomination!”
Downtown, one of the things Hellions used to complain about was how Heaven had disarmed them before tossing them into the garbage dump. Every angel is born with a weapon. Not something they can lose, but something that’s part of them. A flaming sword. They manifest it with a thought and use it like a handheld nuke. I’d never seen one before Aelita manifested her sword in the soundproof chapel.
I’m still looking at it, kind of hypnotized by the thing, when she sticks it through me. I can feel it go through my chest and come out my back, burning and freezing at the same time.
Then I’m on the floor. I have a weird hallucination that Vidocq and Allegra are standing over me. Then I’m dead.
I DREAM THAT I’m back on Earth. I dream that I’ve escaped from Azazel and all the pain and madness of Hell. I’m home and I’m drinking beer with Alice, sweaty and happy in bed. I struggle to open my eyes and I see blue skies. I’m waking up in a cemetery. I am home. It isn’t a dream. But why is the moon out during the day?
It’s not the moon. It’s a light.
That’s not the sky. It’s a blue ceiling. I know the smell of this place, but its name is lost down some darkened detour in my brain.
“I WAS DEAD.”
“Pretty much,” says Kinski. He’s leaning over me, shining a light into my eyes as I lie on his exam table. “But Eugène poured a whole bottle of white nightshade elixir down your throat. It kept your soul from wandering away. After that, it was just a matter of kick-starting your body. How do you feel?”
“All right. Tired, but all right.”
Several of Kinski’s rocks are arranged around the wound in my chest. Others around my head, arms, and legs. The doc takes the stones off me, one by one.
Vidocq and Allegra are at the other end of the table. “I saw you there,” I say. “I thought I was dreaming, but you were there.”
“Yes,” Vidocq says. “I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“You knew those cops were going to snatch me, didn’t you? You told them where I’d be. You set me up.”
“You’ve been so out of control lately. I thought meeting the Golden Vigil and seeing their work would help you to focus your energies. You’re going to kill yourself or some innocent person.”
“So, you handed me over to Homeland Security and a psychotic angel. Is that your idea of group therapy?”
“I had no idea this would happen. Aelita was just going to talk to you.”
I swing my legs over the edge of the table and try to stand. My vision blurs and my head swims. I sit back down.
“I crawl all the way out of Hell just to get kidnapped and sold out by friends all over again. But you know what the funniest thing about this is? Mason didn’t get me killed. You did.” Vidocq is sweating and cold. It’s a fear reaction. Fear and guilt. “How long have you been working for them?”
“I work with them, not for them. It’s been a while. Half a year. A little more, maybe. You don’t know how things have been getting here. It’s bad and getting worse. Things are quieter now. I don’t know why. But they’ll turn bad again and then you’ll see why I did what I did.”
“Were you working for them before I went Downtown?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’d barely heard of them back then.”
Kinski hands me a glass of some stinking brown tea.
“Drink that down. All of it. Don’t sip it.”
I down the tea in three long gulps. It’s thick and hot and I can feel little bits of twigs and leaves in my mouth. I hand the glass back to Kinski.
“Thanks. That was disgusting.” I look at Vidocq. “At least your lie is a new lie. That’s something. Small mercies, my father would say.”
Allegra is holding on to Vidocq’s arm, like she’s supporting an old man who’s had a stroke but is too proud to use a cane. Her heart is racing. Her pupils are like hubcaps. She’s afraid, but not of me. Of everything. It might not have been such a good idea to bring her into the Sub Rosa world. She’s seen a lot in just a few days. “Were you in on this with him?” I ask.
She looks at Vidocq, then back at me.
“He told me earlier. Look, after the thing on Rodeo and Medea Bava with those feathers and teeth, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.”
“Okay. Thanks. You can leave with him.”
Vidocq comes around the table. The bottles of potions and poisons sewn into his coat tinkle as he walks. “No, Jimmy.”
“Yes, Jimmy. Get out of here. Both of you.”
“Eugène saved you,” says Allegra. “Aelita about killed your ass.”
“Maybe next time she’ll get lucky and save you two the trouble of selling me out.”
Kinski says, “Why don’t you ease up on these people a little? You brought some of this on yourself.” I can’t read Kinski. His eyes are steady. I can’t hear his heart or breathing. He’s hiding them from me somehow. Maybe Candy taught him some Jade tricks.
“Thanks for saving me, doc. I mean it. I’m going to need to sit here for a while. After that, I’ll be out of your hair. But until then, please stay the fuck out of this.”
Candy is over in the corner of the room. I missed her before. She’s got her back to the wall and is trying to make herself small.
Looking back to Allegra and Vidocq, I say, “You two need to leave now. I don’t want to look at you anymore.” Vidocq starts to say something, but I cut him off. “I should have seen something like this coming. Hell’s a circus run by mental patients. Heaven’s a gated community where we’re the bastard stepkids the real kids hate. Daddy’s little mistake. Where does that leave us on this rock? I believe Aelita’s story about the broken glass starting life. Trash falls from the sky and no one cleans it up because the trash starts talking. Why should anyone expect anything from anyone? How can trash trust trash?”
Vidocq nods. “Right, then.” He looks at Allegra and they walk out together, closing the door to the exam room behind them.
Kinski and Candy start putting things back in cabinets. Bottles. Bundles of dried plants. A tray of desiccated sea horses. Kinski wraps his rocks up in their silk covers and quietly stows them away.
“What’s wrong with your arm?” I ask. His left arm is bandaged up to the elbow. Spots of blood have soaked through the dressing.
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