The Perdition Score

  BILL SHAKES ME awake two hours later.

  “Your turn, sunshine,” he says, and hands me the telescope.

  “Did you see anything?”

  “Just that woman. She drove away and came back in an hour with maybe some papers in her hand. And she only took two guards with her. I think you were right. These people feel above petty things like bushwhackers.”

  “That’s good news. I’ll take it from here.”

  “That gal of yours is something special,” he says.

  “She is indeed.”

  “She’s not quite human, is she?” he says.

  “Neither am I. Is that a problem?”

  “It’s not commentary. It’s an inquiry into her nature.”

  “She’s a Jade. Do you know what that is?”

  He chuckles.

  “Oh my, yes,” he says. “I met a load of those ladies once on a trip to the Barbary Coast. San Francisco. They were guarding a Chinese merchant ship in port. Six little gals no bigger than her. And no one dared step toward ’em. An old sailor told me that their types guarded Chinese emperors and rode with Genghis Khan and Alexander himself.”

  He half turns toward me.

  “I’m not averse to a tall tale here and there myself, but what those men said had the ring of truth. Those gals were different. Mythological. Fierce and loyal.”

  “That describes Candy.”

  “Then we’re lucky to have her on our side.”

  “I tell myself that every day.”

  “Good. Vagabonds such as we need good sorts, human or otherwise, to watch our backs. If I’d had a gal like Candy with me in Deadwood, things might not have transpired as they did. I can still remember that pair of aces I was holding, and the pair of eights, but I’m goddamned if I can remember the fifth card. The assassin Jack McCall shot the memory clear out of my head. I’d be very pleased to someday have it returned. But I’m not counting the days on that.”

  “Someday, Bill. Someday, you’re going to meet someone who was in the bar and sober and then you’ll know.”

  “And how will I track down this benefactor?”

  “I don’t know, but you have all of eternity to figure it out.”

  He curls his lip at the thought.

  “Eternity passes slowly when you’re alone. That’s why you need to be good to young Candy there. I haven’t had much luck with that kind of companionship, back home or here.”

  “Don’t worry. I’d kill for Candy.”

  “Oh hell, boy. She’s your friend and companion. That means I’d kill for her too. That’s not enough.”

  “What is enough?”

  “If I knew that, I might not be sitting with a numb bunghole talking to a young fool about the vagaries of love.”

  He looks at me.

  “You do love her.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then never let her forget it.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  From the back, Candy says, “As much as I appreciate you gentlemen declaring your undying devotion to me, would you mind shutting the fuck up so I can go back to sleep?”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” says Bill.

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  Everyone is quiet for a minute. Then Candy kicks me through the car seat.

  “You loooove me,” she says like a little kid.

  “Shut up.”

  “No take-backs. You loooove me.”

  “Go to sleep.”

  “You’ll make such a blushing bride when we get married.”

  “Please. I’ll take you to Disney World if you’ll just stop talking.”

  She kicks me again.

  “Jim, you heard him. You’re a witness. We’re going to Disney World.”

  “She has you trapped there,” says Bill.

  “I know. Now go to sleep.”

  She lies down and gets quiet. Then, in a tiny singsong whisper I hear, “You loooove me.”

  Finally, she drifts off and Bill closes his eyes.

  It’s going to be a long day.

  A FEW HOURS later, Candy sits up and says groggily, “Has it been two hours?”

  I check the time on my phone.

  “More like eight.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “It was a long boring night. I got hypnotized by it.”

  “No, you didn’t. You just didn’t trust us. You had to see it all with your own eyes.”

  “Careful. Disney World is slipping away.”

  She climbs back into the driver’s seat and pushes me over.

  “Oh, we’re going to Disney World. And you’re going to get some sleep.”

  “What’s going on?” says Bill.

  “Dirty Harry here didn’t wake us for our shifts. He’s been watching the place for hours.”

  “Is that true?”

  “I just got into a groove and didn’t want to break it.”

  “Well, I don’t know what any of that means, but we had an agreement and you broke it.”

  I nod.

  “You’re right and I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted. If it don’t happen again.”

  “It won’t.”

  “What did you learn?” says Candy.

  “Lots. Let’s go back to Bill’s.”

  “It isn’t good news, is it?” says Bill.

  “It’s mixed. Come on. I want to get out of here.”

  Candy backs us out of the stand of trees and we move down the hill.

  When we get to Bill’s place, we park the Unimog by the front door so we can keep an eye on it.

  “What’s the story?” says Bill.

  Candy sits down next to me and lightly butts me with her shoulder.

  “Come on. Talk to us.”

  “Here it is. The person I saw most was the woman. Angels came and went. Some brought boxes and some took boxes away. My guess is they were exchanging raw black milk for the processed, nonpoisonous version. I don’t know what the other Wormwood guys were doing, but they were inside most of the time.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” says Candy.

  “Here’s where it gets worse. A lot more Legionnaires arrived last night. Maybe twenty. So, there’s a lot more firepower for us to contend with.”

  “Anything else?” says Bill.

  “I’m worried about those angels. The woman had a schedule, but the angels seemed to come and go when they wanted. If we make a move against the house, we might have to fight not only Hellions, but warrior angels.”

  “Goddamn,” says Candy.

  “Yeah.”

  Bill scratches his lower lip, moves his finger up to brush his mustache into place in one smooth motion.

  “What you’re saying—and correct me if I’ve misconstrued the thing—but we’re not preparing for an attack. This is a suicide run.”

  “Not necessarily. But that’s a possibility.”

  “In my experience, not necessarily usually means yes. So, we’re preparing to throw ourselves on the sword for king and country.”

  “Like I said, maybe.”

  “Twenty soldiers and maybe angels?” Candy says. “I’m with Jim. This is suicide.”

  “Not if we don’t run straight at them. Yesterday I wanted to rush in and kill everyone. That was when there were maybe twelve guards. Now we might be able to do something else.”

  “What?” says Bill.

  “The woman is the one outside doing all the work. And seeing her with Quay a couple of times, I think they’re an item.”

  “So, we snatch the filly.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “How do we do it?” says Candy.

  “We use the Unimog to ambush the SUV. Grab Miss America, and get Quay to come to us.”

  “Which is all a fine plan, unless there are warrior angels about.”

  “In which case we’re fucked. Worse, we won’t know if there are angels until we start the ambush because sometimes they ride in the SUV with her.”

  “Well,
this is all depressing,” says Candy.

  She rests an elbow on the bar.

  “I agree with Candy,” says Bill. “You folks are alive. The worst that can happen to you is you get killed and end up right back here in the Devil’s shitter with me. On the other hand, I’m already a spirit. If I should be cut down . . .”

  “It’s Tartarus.”

  “What’s that?” Candy says.

  I look at Bill.

  “It’s the Hell below Hell. Hell for the double damned.”

  “And Jim might end up there?”

  “Only if he comes with us.”

  “I’m coming with you. That’s not a point of discussion.”

  “But you wouldn’t have to do the heavy fighting, like in the house. You can stay at a safe distance and be our sniper. Take out who you can.”

  Bill leans back on the shelves behind the bar.

  “I never shirked from a fight back home and I’m not about to start here. I’ll not be sitting in the trees like a jaybird.”

  “Do we have anything going for us?” says Candy.

  Bill looks at me.

  “Not much. We don’t have enough information or enough people. But we really don’t have a choice.”

  Bill lays out the shot glasses.

  “We may not have a choice, but we can have a drink. I’ll get the bottle.”

  Three hard knocks come from the front door.

  Bill sets down the bottle.

  I say, “You expecting anyone?”

  “Not a soul.”

  Everyone raises their gun. I move as quietly as I can to the door. Just as I’m about to grab it, it bursts open.

  An angel in glowing battle armor stands there. I recognize her.

  It’s the angel I fought in Hollywood.

  I put the Glock to her head.

  She drops to one knee and holds out a piece of parchment.

  “Shoot me if you must,” she says. “But Samael has sent me to you.”

  WITHOUT MOVING THE Glock from the angel’s head, I call Candy over.

  “Keep the shotgun on her. If she even looks up, blow her head off.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  I take the parchment from the angel’s hand and get one of Bill’s candles so I can read it.

  Dear Jimmy,

  You’re no doubt reading this with a gun to my poor emissary’s head. If I say that you can lower it, will you listen? Of course not, so I won’t. Her name is Hesediel and she is a good and loyal ally in Father’s war. I’m sending her to you because I suspect you could use help in whatever fool’s errand sent you Downtown. By the way, how did you get there, clever boy? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.

  Hesediel is quite the warrior and, like the rest of us, ready for this inconvenience to be over. She’s as ruthless you, Sandman Slim, so you should get along like two peas in a barrel bomb.

  Good luck and try to avoid scars during your visit. Any more and you’ll just be showing off.

  Samael

  P.S. Tell Candy she can keep the shoes.

  If the note didn’t call the war in Heaven anything but an “inconvenience,” I wouldn’t believe it.

  “Let her up,” I say to Candy.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Her note says you can keep the shoes.”

  “Okay, then,” she says brightly, and lowers her gun.

  I hold on to the Glock.

  “Get up, Hesediel.”

  She stands. In her armor, she’s every bit as imposing as she was when hammering me into the ground with her Gladius. It also looks like the eye I shot out grew back. Neat trick.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “I just have one question before I trust you: Why the hell did you try to kill me back home?”

  “That wasn’t me,” she says. “It was my sister, Hadraniel.”

  “I didn’t know angels had sisters and brothers.”

  “A spiritual sister. We were once as close as any human siblings.”

  “But she changed sides.”

  Hesediel nods.

  “Hadraniel broke many hearts that day.”

  “I used to have a friend named Mason. It hurts when they go bad.”

  “Then you understand.”

  “You know that I don’t have a history of getting along with angels, right?”

  She looks down at me.

  “Samael remarked on that.”

  “Plus, I used to be Lucifer.”

  “That too.”

  “But you’re willing to work with me?”

  “Strange times make for strange allies. Samael was once the greatest enemy of all, but he saw the light. If I can ally with him, I can ally with the Abomination.”

  I put the Glock back in its holster.

  “And I guess I can work with a halo polisher. Come on over and have a drink.”

  She follows me to the bar.

  “Hesediel, this is Candy and Wild Bill.”

  She stares at Candy for a minute. Candy stares right back.

  “You going to call me Abomination too?”

  “No. We’re alike. Inhuman, but fighting a war that will benefit mortals.”

  “It’ll benefit everyone, so don’t go putting your war off on regular people. They didn’t start it.”

  “It’s not pleasant to contemplate.”

  “Then let’s have a drink,” says Bill.

  She looks at the bottle.

  “Is that a Hellion brew?”

  “They no longer deliver champagne down here, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ve never had it before.”

  “No time like the present.”

  “If I refuse?”

  Bill looks at her, the only one in the room tall enough to go eye to eye with her.

  “Where I’m from, friends have a drink before going into a fight. Makes sure no one supposes they’re above anyone else.”

  Bill pours and I hand Hesediel a glass.

  “It’s just a ritual. As an angel, you should understand that.”

  “If I must,” she says.

  “It’s the polite thing to do.”

  She looks at the glass like it’s full of bear shit.

  “Samael said there would be trials and tests with you.”

  “We Abominations are picky bastards.”

  “Then we’ll drink to that,” says Bill. “To as motley a crew of bastards as I’ve ever partnered with.”

  Everyone drinks.

  Hesediel hesitates, then downs the whole thing. And goes into a coughing fit I’m afraid is going to blow her wings off.

  She doubles up and leans a hand on the bar. I lean over to her.

  “You okay?”

  She chokes out, “Yes.”

  A few more seconds and she can stand again.

  “Is that it, then? If there are more rituals and tests, I’d like to get them over with now.”

  Bill holds out a handkerchief for her. She shakes her head.

  I set down my glass.

  “No more tests. And if it’s any comfort, the first time I tried Hellion booze, I did the same thing.”

  “Good,” she says.

  “So, maybe we’re not a suicide mission anymore?” says Candy.

  “Maybe not. With Hesediel, we might actually survive this.”

  I look at her.

  “You ready to kill some Hellions?”

  “I’m here to do whatever is necessary.”

  “Even if it’s killing other Heavenly angels?”

  “You mean rebels against Father? I’ve dispatched many of them already. If more are necessary, so be it. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I can help there.”

  She shifts uncomfortably.

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “It would be distasteful.”

  “The Abomination thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you can handle them, fine. But if they’re too much, I’m jumping in.”

  ?
??That’s acceptable.”

  “Then welcome to the team. Here’s the deal: we need to get to a man named Norris Quay. He’s the head honcho of Wormwood down here. The problem is that he’s protected and we don’t want to go charging through the front door without knowing what’s inside. So, we’re going to kidnap his lady friend and make him come to us.”

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “It’s a sound plan. Where and when do we act?”

  “Griffith Park and as soon as we can.”

  I look at the others. “Okay, bushwhackers. Let’s get bushwhacking.”

  Candy gets behind the wheel of the Unimog and the rest of us pile in. It’s a snug fit. Bill is squeezed up against Hesediel.

  “Sorry about the tight quarters, ma’am,” he says.

  “I’m a warrior. I’ve suffered worse.”

  “I’ve had whores and drunks in my lap before, but never one of the Lord’s own.”

  Hesediel just stares out the window.

  “What Bill is saying is we’re glad you’re here, Hesediel,” I tell her.

  “The sooner the battle begins, the sooner it will be over,” she says.

  Candy starts the truck and we take off.

  “I like your armor,” she says.

  “Thank you,” says Hesediel.

  “Stark wore armor when he was Lucifer. It was sexy. I called him ‘Tony Stark.’”

  Hesediel looks at her.

  “You know. Like Iron Man. Stark’s name is Stark and so is his.”

  “How interesting.”

  “You don’t know Iron Man? You should come with us to L.A. We have all the movies.”

  “Perhaps,” says Hesediel, staring out the window again.

  Candy says, “Angels don’t make a lot of small talk, do they?”

  “It’s not in our nature.”

  “No shit.”

  WE HIDE THE Unimog along a bend in the road in Griffith Park out of sight of the mansion. Then we wait. Candy stays behind the wheel with the engine running. The rest of us wait in the trees.

  An hour or so later, Bill sees something moving below us. He takes out his telescope and surveys the road.

  “One of them vans is coming.”

  I move up next to him.

  “You sure it’s just one?”

  “My eyes work just fine. It’s one.”

  “Then let’s get ready. Remember, we leave one of the guards alive to tell Quay what happened.”

  “What if there are angels?” says Bill.

  “Them we kill. Right?”