The Sandman Slim Series Books 1-4. Richard KadreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Mason Faim.”
“Excellent. We have a common enemy. You’ll join the Vigil and we’ll fight the forces of chaos together.”
“No thanks. Your little war sounds like fun, but I have my own work to do.”
Aelita says, “This is God’s work.”
I get up from the table and walk away across the room. I need to be careful. I don’t want to say the wrong thing when she knows that I’m hurt. The bullets in my chest are playing soccer with my ribs. I’d filled Mason’s lighter earlier, so I take out my cigarettes and spark one. Take a couple of big puffs and flick the ashes onto her altar. I’ll admit it. I’m not good at careful.
“Where was God when I was stuck in Hell?” I ask her. “If you knew about Sandman Slim, then you knew I’d been dragged down there alive and was being tortured. But you hosanna-singing sons of bitches couldn’t spare one lousy angel to help me out?”
“Maybe God thought you were where you belonged.”
“He was right. You know why? Because I got to see exactly how the wheels turn in that part of the universe. Now you’ve given me a little snapshot of Heaven. You Heaven-and-Hell types are just the same shakedown artists in different uniforms. I’ve only been kidnapped twice in my life. Once by Lurkers and now by an angel.”
“You understand that since none of Lucifer’s fiends can leave Hell, it must have been Kissi who dragged you down, probably in league with your friend Mason.”
“Thanks. When I’m done with Mason, I’ll know who to go after next.” I grind the remains of my cigarette into the altar and leave them. “All of you celestial pricks. Lucifer’s psychos and God’s lapdogs, you’re out for yourselves, just like everybody else. You don’t care about the world. You cut a deal with the Kissi. I wonder why?”
Aelita stands, very tall and straight, with her hands folded in front of her.
“Tell me. Enlighten me, Sandman Slim.”
“Because they made it to Heaven. Got right up to the gates. So, you cut a deal. You sent the wolves down here among the sheep and asked the wolves to behave. And if they didn’t, oh well. It’s just a few ewes being slaughtered. But now the wolves are hungrier than ever, and you know that sooner or later, they’re going to come knocking on Heaven’s door.”
Aelita shakes her head and gives me that creepy, benevolent-angel smile again.
“You make me so sad, James.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“All right, Sandman.”
“Don’t call me that, either.”
“I hadn’t realized how all those years in the Abyss had warped your mind. You’ve completely lost your ability to feel empathy. I’ve told you what’s coming for humanity, yet you won’t lift a finger to prevent it.” She’s walking over to me, like a kindergarten teacher about to take the white glue away from a kid who won’t stop eating it. “Don’t you feel anything for anyone?”
“No. The only person I cared about was murdered. And you didn’t do anything about that, either, did you?”
“I can help you heal. Your body and your soul. You were an empty vessel when you went into the Abyss and the devil filled you full of poison. Let me fill you with the Lord’s divine light.”
She’s throwing some hardcore angel hoodoo my way. Trying to get control of my tiny, expendable monkey brain. Candy was better at the soothing talk trick—she really had me going back at Kinski’s. But Aelita isn’t getting anywhere. Maybe the difference is that I kind of liked Candy, but Lucretia Borgia here isn’t my type.
“Let me help you, my son.” She reaches out and takes both of my hands in hers. “Become part of God’s great plan.”
“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