More disturbing than all that was the population of people shambling their way up the hill toward the rear of the big house. They wore threadbare and plain garments, akin to the dress Jeze wore, but none of them looked nearly as good as she did. Probably that was because their flesh had an ashen hue to it that matched their filthy clothes. They looked listless, akin to folks found at the collision of hangover and dawn rising. Kids stumbled after parents, and if my reading of the groupings was right, polygamy wasn't unknown among the Lividians.
Scrub's comments, especially the vehemence of them, came back to me. "You were gone and this cult sprang up?"
Jeze nodded as the people wandering into the big house's basement through a cellar door. "My father, you remember how he was fatigued, don't you? How he took refuge in the Bible?"
"Seemed concerned with Revelations a mite."
"While I was gone he said he found a code in the Bible. It confirmed for him that Parker was the place Jesus Christ would return to the world, and His coming is soon, very soon." She reined her horse up in front of the big house. "He started preaching to the people here and followers came to the farms. They give everything to the Church of Leviticus, live by his rules, do his bidding, and prepare for the Return."
I dismounted, then came around and helped Jeze alight. "And your father believes all this?"
She came out of the saddle and hugged me. "I don't know, Nevan. Since my return I've never seen him alone. My sisters, they care for him. They won't let me near him. I get to hear him when...come on, you'll see."
She took me by the hand and led me into the mansion. Whereas it was impressive on the outside, the inside looked pretty much gutted. Walls were half-plastered and furniture was scattered about without worry about grouping like with like. I reckoned that the best of-Parker's furnishings were ending up here. What I seen coming into the place told me as much about Parker's distance from civilization as it did the devotion of folks who gave everything up to Leviticus Knox's dream.
I followed Jeze down some stairs to the basement, bringing us out midway in this big rectangular room. It got cooler down there, but it wasn't just because of the dark and dank. The basement was one big room, a meeting hall of some sort, fitted out with long tables of crude manufacture. Grey people filled them and lifted wooden bowls to servers. The servers wheeled around big pots full of some steaming mush that made me nostalgic for the rations served at Colton. Portions were dished up with a big plop and folks started eating right away—many ignoring spoons for fingers and sucking spills off stained shirt-fronts.
Things remained shadowed and grey 'cepting at the north end of the room. There they'd built up a little bit of a stage and had centered a gilded throne on it. Red velvet covered the cushions on the back and seat-serpents and dragons and other Biblical nasties twined over the wooden parts, ending with a dragon's head and a serpent's head, suitably crushed, being the footrest.
Flanking it either side were Jeze's sisters, Lilith and Salome, hanging all loose and languid to the throne. They wore white gowns that looked to be of silk. They clung to the women's bodies the way ivy hugs a building, letting a man appreciate the underlying architecture. Their eyes were the same blue as. Jeze's, but colder somehow, and their hair had taken on a reddish hue that I didn't recollect from having seen them before.
The figure seated in the throne, though, he commanded my full attention as he stood. He wore a Reb general's uniform, but it was cut of cloth so white that it almost hurt my eyes to look at him. Gold braid trimmed it appropriately, and a gilded plume rode in his hat. He wore white gloves and tugged at the hem of them as his daughters smoothed the sleeves and back of his jacket. The white mask he wore ran from hairline to jaw, but opened enough to reveal his mouth and the black shock of beard on his chin. The mask's eyes had been cut on a slant, which combined with the gold-embroidered circle of sixes on the forehead, to give him a diabolical cast to his features.
1 felt a chill run down my spine. The way his daughters stroked his arms was a bit more familiar than I would have expected, and that set me to feeling uneasy. Leviticus Knox drew his hands around behind his back and his daughters went to their knees at his side. They faced him and bowed their heads, as if they were unworthy of looking upon such a countenance. The Greys in the room likewise looked down. I was feeling contrary and kept my head up.
Leviticus began to speak and the bass tones of his voice were mesmerizing. "Brothers and sisters, the time is near. You have been saved from Perdition by your faithful adherence here to Our work. You make the world ready for the coming Armageddon. You await a sign and should know that such a sign was seen in Parker last night. A stampede of Hellbeasts raced through Main Street and would have shattered the Church there, but God, in his infinite mercy and wisdom, had placed me there. While those who have not joined us are confused, God would not abandon them. He placed me there and I turned the beasts, sending them on into the river where they were swept back to Hell where they belong."
Murmurs of ascent washed over the room in waves, and heads bobbed as if floating. I felt a spark of hope in my heart as Leviticus spoke. In the back of my mind I knew something was off, something was wrong, but I couldn't figure what it was. Leviticus' words assured me I needn't ought to think, and the gentle nodding from Jeze confirmed this notion.
"Brothers and sisters, the time comes of our elevation and exaltation. Those among us who have died will rise again to join our Lord. They are the lucky ones, they are the fortunate, for through their deaths they have already been cleansed of sin and are prepared for Paradise." Leviticus raised a hand and touched the triple-six design on his forehead. "You ask yourselves why I wear the mark of the Beast? It is because I acknowledge myself to be a sinner. I know I harbor evil and it will be through my death that I am purged of inequity and shriven of my sins. For us, for the Chosen, death holds no fear, for it is only the portal to eternal paradise."
An amen or two rose from the assembly. I felt my lips forming the word, too; and panic sparked in me. I was not one of the Chosen. I was not one of those who would be saved with Leviticus through his work. I wasn't under his brand and when the great roundup came, I would be abandoned. I didn't want that and knew I had to find a way to prove to him that I was worthy of being saved.
Jeze had said that the people here had given everything to the Church. I remembered her saying that. I knew that was the key to my salvation. I looked to be offering him my greatest possession, to prove I was part of his herd. My left hand slipped into my jacket pocket and I grabbed the deck of cards therein. I thumbed off seven, preparing to flash them at Leviticus, just to let him know how powerful a gift it was I'd be giving.
The room vanished for a moment, having the Hunting Grounds slip into place for it. I found a manitou tangled in my fingers. It was only a scrawny one, barely worth catching a hold of, but tussling with it was enough to mule-kick me into sensibility. Leviticus had been using a hex to maintain influence over his people, I seen that straightaway. Since they believed him, that made it easier for him to fool them. His grip on me had been weaker, and easily busted up by my Hunting trip.
But, knowing what he'd been doing wasn't the same as undoing it. I tightened my grip on the manitou and wrung power out of it. I melted back into the real world and flashed the cards in my hand. I only had a measly pair of fours, but that was enough to suit me.
The dazzlingly colorful display they made only affected two people, since only two of them were looking in my direction. Jeze raised a hand to cover her eyes, gasping at the display. Leviticus blinked twice, then took a step toward me. His daughters' heads snapped around, their eyes blazing at Jeze and me.
"There they are, infidels! They are demonic minions, my faithful." His hands emerged from behind his back and clawed toward the sky. "Rise and destroy them!"
Bidden by the sound of his voice, the mass of Greys rose as one, and scrambled toward us.
***
Wilson produced a silver flask and took a long pul
l on it. He wiped away a bead of amber liquid from his thick lips with the back of his hand, then shook his head. "That Doctor Sterling, figuring out that Leviticus had ether flowing in the basement there to weaken the minds of the Greys, that was genius, pure genius."
Quilt frowned as Wilson hid the flask away again. "Anyone could have figured that out, even Mr. Kilbane here. It said in the story he was thinking on it, but..."
Wilson gave me a nod. "He was, but he didn't have the background to know what it was. And it took Doctor Sterling to strike those matches to burn away the gas around him and Miss Knox. Then he dragged the two of them, Mr. Kilbane and Miss Knox, to safety."
Johns looked over at me from the corner of the seat. "It would seem you are more a hindrance to your master than a help. Or does modesty prevent you from fully describing your contributions to things?"
I shifted my shoulders uneasily. "I do what I can. My efforts pale in light of Doctor Sterling's."
Wilson smiled at me. "You do all right."
Johns raised an eyebrow. "Few men would enjoy hiding in the shadows of a greater man. It must chafe."
Quilt answered for me. "Not when you're working for a man like Doctor Sterling. He's saved Mr. Kilbane's life more times than can be counted, isn't that true? What kind of man would our friend be here if he didn't show gratitude for that kind of thing?"
Johns smiled. "Normal?"
"I'm just old-fashioned." I gave Johns an easy smile. "I give credit where due, take what I can get, and carry out my orders. It's a simple life, but it's mine."
Wilson laughed. "You call that simple? Maybe then you've forgotten what happened in Parker, there at Resurrection Farms!"
***
The Greys came for us, men and women jostling to be first, with little ones snarling from between legs and behind skirts. I shoved Jeze up the stairs behind us, then I followed. I jammed my cards away and drew my six-gun. I pointed it at the Greys and cocked it, then thought about triggering a warning shot. They didn't blanche at the sight or sound of the gun, so I knew flame and lead that wasn't directed toward them weren't going to turn them.
A .45 Peacemaker spits out a hunk of metal big enough to wipe the smile off anyone's face. Now these Greys, they wasn't smiling none, but the slugs about wiped everything off their faces. In fact, it made it so their faces had to be wiped off other folks' faces, which I would have thought would slow them down a piece. They did drag the bodies back away but kept coming.
As I came around the turn in the stairs I saw Jeze's skirt disappearing up the next flight. With her out of sight, I shifted the pistol to my right hand and went for my cards again. I dealt myself a pair into the spell I'd used on the lead buffalo. It splashed a Grey man all over the stairs, leaving him dripping down the walls slow as molasses. Better yet, it blew apart the landing and the lower half of the flight I was on. A half-dozen greys stumbled into the abyss below, screaming as they went.
I dashed up the stairs, opening my pistol and letting the spent shells tinkle their way back down in my wake. I reached the main floor and knew I had to get out of the house quickly. The Greys had entered the basement through an exterior entrance, so their being stopped by the damage to the stairs would only be temporary I looked around for Jeze, but couldn't see her.
Then I heard a scream from above. I took stairs two at a time, my spurs jingling as I went. At the top of the stairs I found a number of closed doors. I went from one to another, but it wasn't until the master suite that I found Jeze. She stood in the middle of the room, which was huge. It had a big fireplace set into the interior wall, two small vanity tables with big mirrors and wardrobes crammed full of clothes on either side of the massive canopied bed.
She hugged her arms around herself and shivered. "It can't be, it can't be."
I slipped bullet after bullet back into my pistol then snapped it shut. "No doubt about it, there's something wrong here."
Jeze turned to face me, her complexion whiter than that of a consumptive. "Those vanities, these two wardrobes, they belong to my sisters."
I nodded and followed her gaze to the third wardrobe, the one full of her father's uniforms. The presence of the clothes and only one bed suggested some unsavory things that matched up with how the devoted daughters were acting in the basement. My mouth soured immediately, but I knew I didn't have time to sort out all that appeared to be going on.
I reholstered my pistol and grabbed Jeze by the shoulders. "When I said there was something wrong here, that wasn't what I meant." I nodded toward the fireplace. "That's the problem."
She frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"No chimney for it—I seen that riding in. It's hiding something." I crossed to the hearth and squatted in front of it. I reached up inside and found a simple catch that I flipped. The back part of the hearth retreated, exposing a wooden ladder leading down. "I reckon I found it."
"I don't understand. What's going on, Nevan?"
"I don't reckon I know either, Jezebel, but I aim to find out. Down this hole I will."
"I'm coming, too."
I shook my head. "No, I want you to get out of here. It's important that you do." I explained to her how the only thing that could stop me was her being used against me, and 1 explained a few other things, too.
She gave me a hug and a kiss, neither of which lasted long enough as far as I was concerned. 1 winked at her, then descended the ladder. The wood felt rough to my left hand, and three quarters of the way down an unlit torch in a sconce drew a sootline up my spine, but otherwise I reached the bottom of the pit without incident.
I had to walk along a short tunnel before I emerged into a cavern. It might have once been natural, but a lot of work had been put into it by people. Up beyond the crevasse, to the west, I saw another tunnel I reckoned came out near the river. It occurred to me that the excavations had provided the dirt for the gardens. It was my guess that the Lividians had done the work, specially because I could see some broken bodies down in a sharp crevasse that slanted off to the south, in the bottom of the cavern. They'd fallen in and likely been smashed up beyond saving by the time they reached the bottom.
That put them one step closer to Hell, which was fine by my thinking.
Above the crevasse, clinging to a ledge on the north side all spiderlike, a stout wooden scaffold had been erected. It resembled the deck of a heaving ship, only because it was slanted down at an angle pointing it toward the crevasse. Mounted on it was a cannon, the type of which I'd seen hundreds in the war. Despite its not being very remarkable to sight, I got the feeling something was odd about it, so I dealt myself into a hex that would give me the gospel on any magic worked on the cannon.
I got a full house full of information on the thing. Enough magic had been worked on it to turn it into a talisman, and from what I knew of the Hoylist arts, that wasn't an easy thing to do. First one had to get an item with some significance to work with, then weave magic into the item through a long ritual. It all worked best if the item and the magic being worked were akin to each other-traveling the same trail. Since a cannon is meant for destruction, I wasn't thinking this was a good omen at all.
Leviticus appeared on the scaffold above me with a lit torch in his hand. "So you've found it. Pity you didn't find the secret exit from the ladder tunnel. It was at the torch. Then you would be here and have a chance of stopping me. As it is, you can't."
He patted the cannon with his empty, gloved hand. "In case you were wondering what sort of significance a cannon could hold, this is the one that fired the first shot at Fort Sumter. This started the War of Southern Liberation and I will use it to birth a new nation."
He touched the torch to the fuse. It sputtered and sparked, then began to burn. "Farewell. Your effort to stop me was just too little, too late." He shoved the torch into a wall sconce there, banishing shadows, then ran back to the ladder tunnel.
I stood there, torn. I almost ran to the tunnel and fired six shots up into the darkness, but killing him wouldn't s
top his cannon. I couldn't climb up there fast enough, and even walking through shadows to get up there might not work since I'd have to emerge too far from the cannon to pinch off the fuse.
I even thought about trying to shoot the fuse from the gun. I thought I could hit it, was pretty sure I could, but the bullet itself might keep it burning. And what if I miss?
I hesitated for a second, then I knew what I had to do. I drew the cards and sprinted toward the crevasse. I cut them one-handed quick, then thumbed off a set of seven. In the Hunting Grounds I found me a manitou that was kind of flat and even soft, if you ignored claws and teeth around the edges. It seemed intent on wrapping itself around me, and I let it. Then I grabbed its eyestalks and tied them into a painful knot, letting it know that I was having a lend of its power.
In the cavern I leaped up as the cannon went off, putting me between firing cannon and hole in the ground.
I know it sounds foolish, what I was doing, and I'd rightly have been rewarded by having a hole blowed in me as big as a politician's sense of self importance. Truth to tell, I wasn't certain that what I was going to do would work, but I didn't really reckon on as how I had much choice in the matter. The hex I wrapped around myself was the same one I figured might have been warp and weft of the buffaloes-something to make shots taken at them miss. Now, strictly speaking, that cannon weren't aimed at me until I put myself in front of its muzzle. Had there been some lawyerly hex worked on that cannon I'd be guessing I'd have been the first creature entombed at the bottom of Parker Bay, but that wasn't the way thing turned out.
The cannonball, as near as I can figure, had been worked with a powerful hex on account of being fired from the Sumter cannon. The hex is known to some as earth wrack and can set the ground to shaking a little or a lot. Given that California already had a serious dose of the shakes, I could only imagine what would have happened had the shell hit its intended target. As it was, it missed, slamming into the crevasse lip, then ricocheting up and around.
A Fist Full O' Dead Guys Page 21