The Kill Society (Sandman Slim)(33)

He makes a throwing gesture. The na’at is just a cylinder when you’re not using it, but when you snap it open it extends up to ten feet. You can use it a lot of ways. Shorter, you can use it as a sword or knife. Longer, a spear or a bullwhip.

He makes the throwing gesture again.

I put the Colt back in my waistband.

“You want me to teach you to use it, don’t you?”

He nods excitedly. I look at him hard.

“If I do it, you’re going to keep my secret, right?”

He nods.

“You’ve seen me in the arena, so you know what I’ll do to you if you’re lying.”

He nods again, a little nervously this time.

“Okay,” I say. “But not now. I have to go see someone. The next time we camp, I’ll show you how to use it.”

He smiles, makes a circle with a couple of fingers while moving a finger in and out of it.

“No. I’m not going to fuck anybody. I’m just going to see a friend. You go back to camp, keep your mouth shut, and we have a deal.”

He holds out his hand. I go to shake it, but he grabs my forearm instead. I grab his and we shake that way. I guess I did it right because he’s grinning from ear to ear when he runs back to camp. Hopefully he’s smart enough to keep his lips buttoned up. I’ll know when I get back to the dog pack.

Cherry is coming out of the Magistrate’s motor home when I’m nearby. No way I want to deal with her kind of crazy tonight, so I duck behind a truck where a group of souls and Hellions are working on an axle. I stay there, staring like a dummy until Cherry is out of sight. Then I make it past the Magistrate’s palace to Traven’s camper. I knock on the door.

Traven smiles when he sees me.

“Come in. I saw you sneaking over here. Are you not supposed to be here?” He steps aside so I can get in.

“No. I can go anywhere I want. I just don’t want the peanut gallery knowing where I’m going. Maybe they’ll think you’re the one who’s been fucking with the gear.”

“I see your point,” he says. “And thank you for being discreet.”

“It was here or the multiplex and I’ve seen all the movies.”

“Yes. I’m sure you have.”

I look to where he’s laid out holy water, bread, and salt.

“We should probably get started. I don’t want to be gone too long. How does this work?”

“It’s very simple really. I lay the bread on your body, and sprinkle it with holy water and salt. Then I say a prayer and it’s done.”

“That’s all? It sounds like anyone could do it.”

“Anyone could. It’s just the desire to rid others of sin that’s necessary.”

“Is there any particular prayer you have to say?”

“There are several. Do you have a favorite?”

“Yeah. But you don’t know it.”

“Relax,” he says. “You look like you’re going to the dentist to have a cavity filled. I promise you, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It better not.”

Traven reaches for the sin-eater snacks, but I get there first.

He says, his smile gentler now, “It’s going to be all right. I promise you.”

“I know. Sit down and hold out your hands.”

“Why?”

“Shut up, Father, and do what you’re told.”

He sits with his hands out.

“You look like Oliver Twist,” I say.

“I feel a little foolish.”

“It’s going to get worse.”

I put the bread on his upturned hands, sprinkle on the holy water, and salt.

“What are you doing?” he says. “This isn’t a game.”

“I’m not playing. So shut up.”

I put a hand on his shoulder and recite the only thing close to a prayer I can think of: the lyrics to Johnny Cash’s “Rusty Cage.”

When I’m done, I shove the bread in my mouth and chew. It’s dry. I’d kill for some Aqua Regia, but I’d even take flounder juice right now. When I finally manage to swallow the last of it, I take a swig of holy water to wash it down.

“There. Done,” I say. “You’re absolved.”

He looks up at me.

“Why did you do that?”

“Whatever you’ve done down here, including with the Magistrate, it’s gone now.”

He sits there, looking stunned.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Someone around here has to get to Heaven, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be me.”

“You’re wrong,” he says. “You’re a good man.”

“I’m a good man who’s late getting back. Take care of yourself.”

He reaches out and grabs my hands between both of his.

“We’ll come through this. We’ve made it through worse.”

“Make me a list of worse and I’ll let you know if I agree.”

He pats me on the shoulder and I skulk out of the camper, right to where Daja is waiting for me on her Harley.

She gives me a crooked grin.

“You’re not getting it on with the father, are you? I’m not sure the Magistrate would approve.”