Hell To Pay n-7

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Hell To Pay n-7 Page 19

by Simon R. Green


  “I could come with you,” he said. “I could help. With whatever this is. No-one would have to know I was there. I could hide in the shadows. I’m really good at hiding in shadows. It’s all part of being dead.”

  “No,” I said. “Too many things could go wrong. They’re going to be upset enough at seeing me instead of the Griffin. So I think we’ll keep the shocks to a minimum. Thanks for offering, though.”

  “Hell,” said Dead Boy, “if I let you get killed on my watch, Suzie Shooter will blow away both my knee-caps, then rip all my bones out. One at a time. You want me to wait for you?”

  “Better not,” I said. “There’s no telling how long this could take, and your car is already drawing glances. You go on. I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ve got a whole lot of guns stacked away in this car,” said Dead Boy, “and quite a few things that go Bang! in a loud and unfriendly manner.”

  I gave him a look, and he had the grace to look embarrassed. “When have I ever needed a gun?” I said.

  I got out of the car and strolled down the street, not looking at anything in particular. Dead Boy drove off, slipping easily into the sparse traffic of the business area. The entrance to the car-park didn’t seem to be protected by anything serious; presumably the need for constant easy access made that impractical. And once inside, the only security I’d have to face would be the rent-a-cops. The vehicles were expected to be able to look after themselves.

  Some cars specialise in looking helpless, so they can sucker another vehicle into getting too close; and then out come the teeth and claws, and the suckered car moves down one place on the food chain. Survival of the fittest doesn’t only apply to the living in the Nightside. And any human thief foolish enough to try it on with the cars in a place like this deserves every appalling thing that happens to him. The cars here are death on wheels, monsters in living steel.

  The rent-a-cops were only around to keep out the uninvited and to try and persuade the various vehicles to play nicely with each other. Mostly they shot at anyone who wasn’t them and hid behind anything solid when the cars started getting frisky. Rocket scientists need not apply. I found an air vent round a corner, pried it open, and peered down into the underground parking area. Noone saw me, no-one challenged me. One good thing about a night that never ends—there’s never any shortage of shadows to hide in.

  Though you have to be careful something isn’t already in there.

  Some twenty or so assorted vehicles lay spread out across the concrete, with plenty of space between them to avoid territory disputes. Lots of open space, lots of shadows despite the bright electric lighting, and only a handful of rent-a-cops on the ground. Melissa’s captors must have chosen this place and time carefully, to limit the number of men and cars present. So, first things first. Get rid of the guards. I took half a dozen marbles from my coat-pocket and tossed them carefully down through the open air vent, one at a time. Each marble hit a parked car, and six different alarms went off at once. More alarms joined in, as other vehicles snapped awake, angry and suspicious and prepared to defend against any attack.

  Horns sounded, Klaxons blared, and two cars lashed out at everything around them, thinking they’d been sneaked up on while they were dozing. Vehicles swelled in size, bonnets opening to reveal bright red maws lined with rows of grinding steel teeth. Machine guns extended from unlikely locations, along with chain-saws, energy weapons, and even a few missile launchers. Cars barked challenges at each other, radiators drooled acid that ate into the ground, and there was a terrible revving of engines. The rent-a-cops ran for their lives, not looking back. And all I had to do was walk round to the undefended entrance and stroll casually down the long, curving ramp into the parking area.

  The vehicles detected my presence long before I could see them, and one by one they quieted down, settling back into watchful readiness. They recognised me. By the time I reached the bottom of the slope, everything was calm and quiet again. I made my way slowly and carefully between the parked cars, careful not to get too close to any of them. The cars watched me pass in silence, their headlamps blinking on and off to keep track of me. A few pretended to be sleeping, but I wasn’t fooled. Get too close, and pride would demand they at least take a snap at me. A radiator grille stretched slowly as I approached, separating into metal teeth. A long pink tongue emerged, slowly licked the teeth, then disappeared again. I kept walking. A few cars edged away, to give me more room, and one actually disappeared.

  Reputations are great. As long as you don’t start believing them yourself.

  I left the parked vehicles behind, to our mutual relief, and headed for the far end of the parking area, where Melissa’s captors were supposed to be waiting. I still couldn’t see anyone. I was leaving the lighted area behind, and the shadows were getting darker and deeper. My footsteps sounded very loud on the quiet surface. I tried firing up my gift, to search out any hidden traps or nasty surprises, but although nothing interfered to stop me this time, the aether in the car-park was so suffused with protection magics I couldn’t See a thing. It was like peering through fog.

  A single bright light snapped on over a doorway at the back I hadn’t noticed before. A dozen dark figures stood close together, staring silently at me. Set against the bright light they were just silhouettes. Could have been anybody. I stopped and looked at them. They had to know by know that I wasn’t Jeremiah Griffin.

  “Over here, Mr. Taylor,” said a harsh female voice.

  “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  A trap. Just as I’d thought. I straightened my back, put on my most confident smile, and sauntered unhurriedly over to join them. Never let them see they’ve got you worried. Someone at Griffin Hall must have told them I was coming in the Griffin’s place. Could the kidnappers have had someone operating inside the Hall all along? My first thought had been that it was an inside job…

  I was soon close enough to see them clearly, and the only reason I didn’t blurt out something in surprise was because I was shocked silent. Nuns. They were all nuns, in full habit and wimple, and all of them carrying guns. Really serious guns. And they all looked like they knew how to use them. Nuns? Melissa Griffin had been kidnapped by nuns? Actually…an awful lot of things were starting to make sense now. I came to a halt before them and nodded politely to the one nun standing a little forward, at their head.

  “So,” I said, keeping my voice carefully calm and casual. “How did the Salvation Army Sisterhood get involved in kidnapping?”

  The nuns stirred uneasily. They clearly hadn’t expected to be identified so easily. The head nun glared at me. She was tall and blocky, with a blunt, plain face and fierce dark eyes. She looked like she meant business.

  “Your reputation as a detective goes before you, Mr. Taylor,” she said. “Indulge me. How did you identify our order so quickly?”

  “My attackers at Divas! were all nuns,” I said easily. “And the woman who attacked me with Kayleigh’s Eye at Strangefellows did so right after some of your Sisters had given me the evil eye. For no reason I could understand. Of course, now it’s obvious—once you knew I was on the case you were hoping a pre-emptive strike would keep me from interfering. But I’m still baffled as to why you should want to kidnap a teenaged girl. That’s a bit low-rent for such infamous Christian terrorists as yourselves, isn’t it?”

  “We are not terrorists!” snapped the head nun. “We are Warriors of the Lord! We act in His name. And we go where we are needed.”

  “Lot of people claim to act in God’s name,” I said. “Did you ask His permission first?”

  “We have sworn our lives and our sacred honour to God,” the nun said proudly.

  “What about the innocent victims who died at Divas!” I said.

  “Things got out of hand there,” said the nun, meeting my gaze steadily. “Mistakes were made. You made us pay a heavy price for those mistakes. So many good and noble Sisters dead. How is your conscience, Mr. Taylor?”

  I studied
her thoughtfully. “Are you the one who’s been interfering with my gift, just lately?”

  “No. We would if we could, but we don’t have that kind of power.”

  “Damn,” I said. “That means I’ve got another enemy out there somewhere…”

  The nun sniffed impatiently. “Let your mind wander on your own time. I am Sister Josephine. I will speak for the Salvation Army Sisterhood.”

  “I want to see Melissa,” I said immediately. “I need to know she’s still alive and well, or there’ll be no negotiations.”

  “Of course,” said Sister Josephine, and she turned and gestured briefly to the nuns behind her. Those at the back parted for a moment to give me a quick glimpse of Melissa Griffin, huddled up against the rear door. She looked exactly as she had in the photograph, right down to the same dress. She started to say something to me, but the nuns closed in before her again. She didn’t seem to be tied up or restrained in any magical way. If I could get close enough, getting her out might be easier than I’d thought. It was good to see her at last. I’d told myself all along that she had to be alive, but I’d never been entirely sure. The Nightside isn’t known for its happy endings.

  “Stay where you are, Melissa.” I said loudly, keeping my voice bright and assured. “Your father sent me to take you home.” I looked at Sister Josephine. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk. What are the grounds for negotiation?”

  “There aren’t any,” the Sister said calmly. “There will be no negotiations. This isn’t about Melissa. It’s about you, Mr. Taylor. We knew you’d insist on coming here in the Griffin’s place, once you got the note. We had to bring you here, to talk to you directly. You must stop interfering, Mr. Taylor. You don’t know what’s really going on. And this is far too important for you to be allowed to meddle anymore. There’s too much at stake. Souls are at stake.”

  “So what are you going to do, if I don’t stop?” I said. “Shoot me?”

  “Not unless we have to.” Sister Josephine’s voice didn’t waver at all.

  All the time we’d been talking, I was unobtrusively trying to work an old magic trick of mine—taking the bullets out of guns without their owners realising. Unfortunately, there was already a magic in place, specifically designed to stop mine from operating. I was forced to admit that I might have let myself become too dependent on that particular trick. Too many people had seen me use it. I returned my full attention to Sister Josephine, who was watching me carefully.

  “We don’t want to have to kill you, Mr. Taylor. Despite our reputation, we only ever kill where necessary. To prevent further suffering. But we will use whatever force is necessary to bend you to our will in this matter.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I said, letting my hands drift a little closer to my coat-pockets.

  “Come with us now. We’ll imprison you somewhere safe until this is all over. Don’t resist us unless you want Melissa to suffer for your disobedience.”

  “Melissa needs to go home,” I said. “That’s what I’m here for. And you’ll have to kill me to stop me. I really don’t like people who kidnap children. So what do you say, Sister Josephine? Are you really ready to murder me in cold blood to get your own way? A cardinal sin, surely, even for a Warrior of the Lord?”

  “We do God’s will,” Sister Josephine said flatly. “It’s not a sin if you do it for God.”

  I had to smile. “Now that really is bullshit.”

  “Don’t you laugh at us! Don’t you dare laugh at us!” She stepped forward, her face red with rage. “We have dedicated our lives, our very souls, to the good work! We’re not doing this for money, not like you!”

  “I’m not doing it just for the money,” I said. “I’m doing it for Melissa. And I really think it’s time we were going.”

  I forced my inner eye open, peered through the mystic fog, and found the sprinkler system overhead. I turned them all on at once. Water slammed down all across the car-park, thick as pouring rain, laced with holy water to deal with magical fires. All the parked vehicles went crazy. Thinking they were under attack, cars smashed together head to head, like rutting deer. Other vehicles swelled up and engulfed smaller vehicles beside them. Some changed their shapes completely, revealing their true nature as they became suddenly strange, alien, other…Shapes that made no sense at all in merely three dimensions. Something that now looked a hell of a lot like a giant black spider jumped out of the shadows onto a nun who’d strayed a little too far from the group. It brought her down in a moment, sucking the blood out of her as she screamed helplessly. More cars surged forward, excited by the smell of blood. Several nuns opened fire, shooting indiscriminately at the vehicles around them with machine pistols and automatic weapons.

  The pouring water had shorted out most of the lights. There were shapes and figures moving everywhere in the gloom. I edged cautiously through the chaos, crouched to avoid the bullets flying everywhere. I slipped easily between the scattered nuns, dodging the frenzied vehicles as they roared back and forth, concentrating all my attention on getting to Melissa. I could see her clearly in the light by the end door, still huddled against it in terror, her arms wrapped around her head to keep out the noise.

  A car behind me took half a dozen bullets in its fuel tank and exploded in a fireball that shook the whole car-park. All kinds of alarms were going off now, though I could hardly hear them through the ringing in my ears. The burning wreckage cast a flickering hell-fire glare across the scene, the transformed cars rearing up like demons. The surviving nuns were standing back-to-back now, firing at anything that moved. I dodged through the smoke from the burning car and headed for Melissa. I yelled her name, but she didn’t look up. The uproar was almost painfully loud. I ran towards her, crossing the last of the distance as quickly as I could. A nun came at me out of nowhere, her gun pointing straight at me. I threw myself to one side, but the gun barrel turned to follow me. The nun opened fire. And Melissa ran forward to stop the nun.

  The nun caught a glimpse of something coming at her, and spun round. The gun was already firing. The bullets slammed into Melissa, stitching a line of bullet-holes across her chest. The impact picked her up and threw her backwards, smashing her against the far wall. She slid slowly down the concrete wall, leaving a bloody trail behind her. She sat down hard, her chin on her chest. The whole of her front was soaked in blood. The nun screamed in shock and horror, threw her gun away, and ran for the exit. A car got her before she made a dozen steps. I ran forward and took Melissa in my arms, cradling her against my chest, but I was already too late. I’d failed her. I’d promised her father I’d find her and bring her safely back, and all I’d done was get her killed.

  Melissa slowly raised her head to look at me, and the long blonde wig slipped sideways. It wasn’t Melissa. It was Paul, made up as Polly, dressed like his beloved cousin. He tried to say something to me, but all that came out of his mouth was a bloody froth. He raised a shaking hand, and pushed something into my hand. I looked at it. A simple golden key. When I looked back at Paul, he was dead.

  I sat there for a while, holding him in my arms, more numb than anything. There was blood and screams and gunfire all around me, but none of that mattered. A car came roaring out of the driving rain, headed right at me. I looked at it, and all my rage and horror and frustration came together in me, and I threw it at the approaching car. It stopped dead in its tracks and exploded, showering fiery debris over a wide area. It screamed as it died, and I smiled.

  One by one, the surviving vehicles fled the car-park, butting and snapping at each other all the way. The pouring rain from the sprinklers shut off abruptly, as someone finally hit the override, even though half a dozen vehicles were still burning fiercely. The alarms shut down, too, and suddenly it was all very quiet. As though nothing had happened at all. There were bodies sprawled on the ground all around me, but I couldn’t seem to make myself care. I heard footsteps approaching, splashing across the water-soaked floor. I slowly raised my head to look, and there wa
s Sister Josephine, looming over me. Her gun hung forgotten at her side. She looked at Paul, lying dead and bloody in my arms, and her face was full of a terrible sadness.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said. “It’s all been a ghastly mistake. Paul shouldn’t even have been here, but he wanted so badly to be involved, to help, to support his cousin. And she didn’t have the heart to tell him no.”

  I put Paul’s body gently to one side and stood up to face Sister Josephine. “Tell me. Tell me what’s really going on. Tell me everything.”

  “We didn’t kidnap Melissa Griffin,” said Sister Josephine. “Melissa came to us of her own free will.”

  TEN - That Old-Time Religion

  “We can’t stay here,” Sister Josephine said urgently. “The car’s owners will be here soon to see what set off all the alarms. They aren’t going to be at all happy. There will almost certainly be harsh language and threats of violence. Even worse, they might want us to fill out insurance forms. Mr. Taylor…John…Can you hear me? We have to go now!”

  I could hear her trying to reach me, but I couldn’t seem to make myself care. I knelt beside Paul’s body, hoping that if I stared at it long enough, it would start to make some kind of sense. He seemed like such a small and delicate thing in his blood-stained dress, like a flower someone had carelessly crushed and thrown aside. I’d told him I could protect him. I should have known better. The Nightside does so love to make a man break a promise. I slowly became aware of the sound of running feet approaching fast from all sides, along with the barking of orders. With all the maddened cars finally gone, the rent-a-cops had rediscovered their courage. They’d probably come in shooting. I smiled slowly, and I could feel it was the wrong kind of smile. Let them come. Let them all come. I was in the mood to kill a whole bunch of people.

  “You can’t kill them all,” said Sister Josephine, reading my mood accurately.

  “Watch me,” I said, but it didn’t sound like me. Already my dark mood was passing. I sighed heavily, picked up Paul’s body, and stood facing Sister Josephine. “Tell me you know of a secret way out of here.”

 

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