The Kill Society (Sandman Slim)(83)

I grab Daja and we take off running for Wanuri’s group.

She and everybody else with a loaded weapon fires into the hobbling piles of gristle. They take down a lot, but Henoch must have been a pretty big town. There are plenty more behind them. I run down to her with the sword in my arms.

“Come on!” I shout.

“Where?”

“To the gun. We can make it work now.”

I don’t have to tell any of them twice. We sprint back to the crossroads like the freaked-out bunnies we are. I want to say that we all make it, but things don’t work out like that. A lot of people get taken down along the way. Most of the dog pack I know is in front of me. So is Traven. I look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alice, but all I can see are flashes of light when Gladiuses smash into each other. I turn away. I don’t want to know what happens until it’s over. I know if the wrong angel comes down I can kill it. That’s all I need to know.

“Where’s the Magistrate?” yells Daja. The idiot stops for a second and I have to grab her and drag her behind me. I want to tell her that wherever he is, he’s fine. He’s a goddamn angel. And no sooner do I think it than the prick appears from the crowd, running alongside Daja like they’re out for a jog in the park.

When we get to the gun, me and the Magistrate leap up onto the flatbeds and run to the rear. Daja, Wanuri, and some of the others climb up behind us, but are too slow to keep up.

When we get to the rear of the gun, I pull open the breech and look at the Magistrate.

“How do we use it?”

“I do not know,” he says. “The stories never specified how the weapon worked.”

Of course not. Vehuel would know, but she’s occupied at the moment.

“Look around,” I say. “It has to fit somewhere.”

By now, Traven and the rest of the dog pack have caught up.

“Look around for where the sword might go in,” I tell them.

A moment later, Traven says, “Here. This might be it.”

He points to an indentation in the breech. There’s a slot where it looks like something could slide in.

“Try it,” says the Magistrate.

I bend down, and when I hold the sword out straight, it fits perfectly into place.

Big smiles all around, but they don’t last long. The tree fuckers are shuffling down the hills and the crossroads.

I slam the breech shut and lock it into place. There’s a lever on the Magistrate’s side.

I nod to it.

“Do it.”

Grinning like a school kid on a snow day, he grabs the lever and pulls.

Exactly nothing happens. No boom. No shudder. An absolute zero.

“Try it again,” I shout.

He pulls again and it’s the same big nothing.

He says, “You must have put it in wrong.”

“Let’s see.”

I open the breech and pull out the sword. Halfway out, it snaps and falls to the flatbed in pieces. I pick up one of the shards.

“It’s wood. It’s wood painted gold.”

“That cannot be,” says the Magistrate.

He reaches for some of the splinters, but I push him away.

The dead are just about on us. I climb on top of the gun.

“If you’re alive, duck, motherfuckers!”

I start screaming Hellion hoodoo as loud and fast as I can in every direction.

The first couple of hexes knock the forward wave of skeletons down, but the ones behind climb over like a swarm of rats. I keep shouting, going easy on the hexes until the last of Wanuri’s people are clear. When they are, the skeletons are right on us. Now I shout the rough stuff. The kind of hoodoo I used out on the river. I turn the air around the dead into fire until the road and hillsides are a solid carpet of flames. Some of the dead keep coming, but they’re slower than before. With each step they fall apart piece by piece and are easy for the havoc to take down.

I climb down off the gun and stand with the others, breathing hard. While they scan the road for any dead bastards out for a stroll, I look up at the sky. No flashes up there anymore. Whatever was happening is over. I get out the amber knife and wait to see who comes back.

A moment later Alice and Vehuel slam to the ground a few feet behind us. I jump down and run to them, grabbing Alice in a big hug when I get her. She hugs me back, but more of her attention is on Vehuel. I look over, and see why. There’s a hole you could put a fist in over her heart.

“What the hell happened over there?” I say.

“Johel and Phanuel were traitors,” says Alice. “Some of the officers have been going over to them for some time. I guess even a few generals.”

Traven stands nearby and looks over my shoulder.

He says, “Is there anything we can do for her?”

Alice holds her boss’s bloody hand.

“I don’t know.”

Vehuel opens her eyes.

“Did you try to fire the weapon?” she says.

“Yeah. It didn’t work.”

“Yes, it did. It worked perfectly.”

I look at the Magistrate, Raziel fucking archangel in disguise.

I say, “It was a test.”

Vehuel touches my arm, and between Alice and me, we’re able to pull her upright.

“Yes. A test. For us, the generals, and for the damned and fallen who might want such a weapon for themselves.”