Into the Fire (10 page)

There was a pause in which I realized that was probably as civil as either of us was going to get, and if I had something to say, it had better be now. “Whatever this job, I promise you, it'll be done to your satisfaction. All I want is ten grand.”

Yoshi might've thought it wasn't a lot of money in this day and age, but Ray wasn't happy about it at all. Though whether that was 'cuz he thought it was too much, or 'cuz he didn't want to pay it to me, I don't know.

“I know I'm older, and . . . yeah, we had our problems, but at least you know I do things right.”

He paused for a moment, taking in a lungful of ragged air and expelling it, apparently giving it some thought.

“After all, business is business,” I added.

He nodded as if I'd just cited a universal truth that no one could deny. Or maybe it was more that he wanted the job done urgently and I was just right for it. “You look the part, that's for sure,” he said begrudgingly. “Seen better-looking things crawl out of my ass.” He laughed at his own joke, as did Van, the Afro-Caribbean minder. I even smiled myself, just to keep things moving along.

Eventually he sighed and gestured to Van to pass me a photo. “There's this guy, bothering someone I used to know, making a real nuisance of himself. I want him to leave her alone.”

I immediately understood what it was all about—an ex had got herself a new man. Ray couldn't have her anymore and didn't
want anyone else to either. He wanted whoever it was frightened off, but just in case they ever told her, it couldn't come from him, or from anyone known to associate with him. It had to be utterly anonymous—which was why they'd made sure no one saw me get in the limo.

“I don't want him dead,” Ray insisted, though obviously with a degree of reluctance. “Fucking bitch'll only blame me. I want him out of the picture, but still visible.”

“Okay.”

“Give him the address,” he told Van.

I was out of there five minutes later, barely able to believe my luck. Of all people, Ray would've been last on my list—and yet, just like when Mr. Meltoni made peace with him, we'd come to an arrangement. He still hated me, he made that plain, telling me never to go to his house again, that I'd stunk it out, to collect my money from Yoshi. But when all was said and done, I could be useful to him—and business is business.

Out in the street, I took a look at the address they'd given me and realized it wasn't that far away. I could go down there and check it out—if the guy was around, maybe even get it over with: go back to Yoshi's, collect my money, and with a bit of luck be home by nightfall.

Just the thought made me pick up my pace. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself now; after all, when I'd set out that morning, I hadn't known what to expect. As it turned out, it couldn't have gone better.

What is it they say about pride before a fall? The job turned out to be a complete fiasco. Ray's ex's lover lived in one of those fancy apartment blocks down by the river: I managed to sneak in with a furniture delivery, went up-top and just knocked on his door. I had no idea what I was going to say, only that I was going to be highly persuasive and get it over with as quickly as possible. If I could get the money that night, Lena and me could be on our way to Dr. Simon's in the morning.

I don't know who the guy was expecting—Ray's ex, I guess—'cuz he came to the door with a rose between his teeth, an open bottle of champagne and an even more open dressing gown, showing off something his woman might've wanted to see, but I sure as hell didn't.

And, of course, I wasn't exactly what he expected to be confronted by either: this wild, hairy Sasquatch blocking out the light. He tried to slam the door but I already had my foot in it so he ran to the bathroom and locked himself in. I beat on the door, ordered him to come out, and when he wouldn't, gave him my lecture through it—telling him exactly what I'd do to him if he didn't leave this woman alone, that he wouldn't be displaying his wares at anyone else in the future, and if he told her—or anyone else—about my visit, all this would be as nothing compared to my retribution.

I don't know, maybe I overdid it, I was a bit rusty, after all. It seemed about right at the time, but somewhere amongst what I said he must've panicked, 'cuz he climbed out the window and tried to crawl along to the next apartment. Trouble was, he slipped and fell eleven floors to his death, screaming all the way down, trying to get all his life out before he hit the ground. I broke down the door, looked out and saw him lying there and legged it out of that building as fast as I could.

I mean—shit, I hadn't wanted that, not for one moment. Anyone who'd taken Ray's woman couldn't be all bad. It also presented me with a real dilemma: did I do the job right or not? For sure, the guy wasn't gonna be making whoopee with Ray's ex anymore. On the other hand—and ironically, 'cuz I didn't want to anyway—I was told “no killing.”

I guess the point was, I
didn't
kill him. It was an accident. So maybe Ray would regard it as the best of both worlds.

In the end, I decided to just go back to the First Original and say the job was done, that Ray's “friend” wouldn't be bothered by the guy again and leave it at that. They didn't need to know the details, just that it was taken care of.

Yoshi was astonished when I walked back in—I'd only left a couple of hours before, after all. The good thing was that my reputation
obviously still lingered, 'cuz when I told him the job was done, he was more than happy to take my word for it.

“No problems?”

“Nope.”

He disappeared out back, and returned a few minutes later with a takeaway carton. “Something for you,” he said, with a big smile.

I squashed the carton into my backpack, accepted a complimentary glass of sake and sipped it as he wiped tables. I actually wanted to get going but felt that would be rude. Outside, the smoke continued to ghost past and as I watched, a couple ran by on the other side of the street, disappearing into the darkness. Seconds later a gang appeared, apparently chasing after them.

“What the hell happened to this place, Yoshi?” I asked.

He stopped what he was doing and turned to me. “You were better off on the Island.”

It was weird; that was the very last sentiment I'd expected to hear from anyone once I got back; now I was hearing it all the time.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “The world coming to an end maybe.”

I waited for him to say more, to explain, but he didn't. “Are you serious?”

“Everything is burning, everyone is sick, the crazy people have taken over. What else can it be?”

“What crazy people?”

He grunted, like I had a lot to learn. “You'll find out,” he said. “One night when they come for you.”

No matter how pleased I was about what I had tucked away in my backpack, how eager to give Lena the news, I still gotta bit of a shock when I finally struggled across the fallen tree and made it back into the churchyard. It was late and I thought the others might've been starting to worry, but as it turned out, they'd had distractions of their own.

I don't know whether she'd been trying to prove a point or what, but Lena had gone out with the kids—not so far, just across the road
and down a couple of side streets, but they'd brought back a few odd bits and pieces: chewy bars, soda, sticky tape for some reason—I don't know, I guess they just grabbed what they could. The other thing they'd brought back, which, it turned out, had been the reason for their trip, was scissors and a razor.

The kids were all sitting around up-top, enjoying the last of what had apparently been quite a show. Somehow Delilah had managed to convince Jimmy that a ponytail on a man with barely ten percent of his head covered in hair was distinctly “uncool,” that a shaven head would suit him better.

“Whoa! Who's this young whippersnapper?” I joked.

“Everyone needs a change of image now and then, Big Guy,” he told me proudly. “You should try it.”

“Yeah. I'll give it some thought,” I said dryly. “Where's Lena?”

Delilah gestured to the crypt. After exchanging private little smirks with the kids I made my way down and found her sorting through our food, trying to work out how much longer it would last.

“I was beginning to wonder where you were,” she said.

I never said a word, just walked up and put the takeaway carton in her hands. She frowned and fumbled with it for a moment, finally getting it open.

“What is it?” she asked.

“What does it feel like?”

She put her hand in and knew immediately what it was. “
Clancy!
Where'd you get it?”

“Does it matter?”

She paused, as if not sure what to say. “Yes . . .”

“From a guy I used to know,” I told her, knowing that if she thought her operation had been bought at the cost of me committing a crime or putting myself in danger, she wouldn't be happy.

“What for?” she demanded.

In the end I told her the whole story, even about Ray being my half-brother, and the unfortunate accident.

“What's he gonna say?” she asked.

“Don't matter. I got the dough.”

“He might come after you.”

“Yeah—amongst all this madness, a sick old man who can't walk is gonna find us down here,” I joked. “I did his job.”

She was plainly concerned, but I suspected it was more than that: that fear of the operation and what it might mean was already starting to set in.

“In the morning we'll go and see Dr. Simon,” I told her.

“What if it doesn't work?”

“We go on as we are now.”

“You won't be disappointed?”

I put my arms around her and gave her a hug. “Only for you,” I told her.

I don't know what time I woke up; we'd gone to bed early, but I couldn't have been asleep that long. There was this noise some way off, over in the direction of the center: a kind of rhythmic rumbling echoing into the night, like the clatter of machinery, and yet it covered such a wide area, as if a major part of the City was vibrating. It went through my head that it was an earthquake, but then I heard something else even more disconcerting: this massed chorus of shouting. How far away it was, I don't know, but I didn't get the impression that whoever was making it was being pursued—more like they were doing the pursuing.

“What is it?” Lena asked. The insistent pounding rhythm and the deep, ground-shaking pulsation plainly unnerving her even more than me.

“I dunno.”

We both lay there, silent and still, holding our breath, unable to make any sense of what we were hearing and all the more disturbed 'cuz of it.

Eventually I couldn't take it any longer, I got up and stumbled over to the steps, Lena not far behind me.

Arturo's sleepy voice came to us from out of the darkness. “What is it?” he mumbled.

“It's nothing. Go back to sleep,” Lena whispered.

Once outside, I realized that whatever it was wasn't as far away as I first thought. It's hard to tell in the City, especially with the persistent blanket of smoke deadening everything down, but I guessed not much more than half a mile.

Still it continued at the same pitch, this insistent rhythm:
thump-thump-thump! thump-thump-thump!
The mass yelling now interspersed with the occasional scream. And just for a moment I got the impression that it was moving, spreading through the City like an army on the march.

I turned to Lena. The soft smoky glow of the continuing fire across the street just enough for me to see how worried she looked.

“I never heard anything like that before,” she said. “What the hell is it?”

As if in answer, there was the sudden sound of gunfire—a couple of single shots, and then, as if whoever else was involved had been waiting for that signal, a huge, seemingly never-ending volley, dozens of weapons being repeatedly fired.

Jimmy came hurrying up the steps, followed by Gordie and Hanna. “What's going on?” he cried, as if he thought it might have something to do with him, that Infinity were closing in.

“Beats me,” I said. “But I don't like the sound of it.”

There was another massive discharge of weapons, a sporadic spluttering of loud shots crackling across the night, and Jimmy looked even more frightened.

“Sounds like a war,” Gordie said.

“You need two sides for a war,” Hanna commented, and then, as if she couldn't bear it a moment longer, that it only confirmed what she'd said, that this place
was
worse than the Island, she turned and went back down to the crypt.

Course, she was right: it ain't a war if no one's firing back, and by the sound of it, this was another massacre: Infinity shooting looters again. And yet, I had this nagging feeling there was more to it than that, and that difference was really unsettling me.

It went on for quite a while; the repeated beating and baying like some battle tactic designed to put the fear of God into the enemy, followed by the occasional crackle of gunfire; 'til, when it finally started to die down, Lena decided she'd also had enough and went back to bed. Jimmy gave a sigh of relief that it wasn't coming our way, muttered something about Lile probably having seized the chance to get Arturo into their sleeping bag and followed on behind, leaving me alone with Gordie.

For a while he just sat there, idly gazing at the fire across the street. “When can we leave?” he asked.

I turned and looked at him, only then realizing it wasn't an issue anymore: that even if the fires did die down, I still couldn't go.

“I gotta stay, Gordie—I gotta see if I can help Lena get her sight restored,” I told him. “You can go—if you can get through. All of you can.”

“Nah,” he said. “We'll wait.” And as if that put a seal on it, that it was all decided, he also turned and made his way back down the steps.