Should I go to Candy tonight? No. We already talked about this. Shut up.
I check the time. Four minutes. That’s long enough.
I walk back through the shadow and check the ditch. She’s not there. I look in the abandoned building. She’s not there either.
Fuck.
I yell, “Marcella.” Nothing comes back. I climb a pile of cinder blocks to get a better look around and spot a couple of bug-ugly Hellion Legionnaires at the end of the block. They’re running somewhere fast. I jump off the blocks and take off after them. Sure enough, when I get around the corner, there’s Marcella swinging a pipe at the two soldiers. A third one lies at her feet with something sharp sticking out of his chest. I’m still sore enough from the van that I don’t feel like throwing fists with Legionnaires, so I pull my gun and shoot them both in the head. Marcella jumps at the shots. Stares as they both blip out of existence.
I head over to her and when she sees me, she sags against a toppled streetlight. Her face is smeared with dirt and a little blood. Her shirt and sleeve are torn. The Hellion at her feet isn’t quite dead yet. It’s leaking black blood fast, but it’s tough. It keeps crawling after her.
“What the fuck are these things?” she screams.
“Hellions. Fallen angels.”
She looks around, starts to say something, raises and drops her hands in a gesture of futility.
“Why did you do this to me?”
“Do you believe now?”
“Why did those others disappear when you shot them?”
“It’s what angels do when they die.”
She looks at the Hellion crawling for her, then at me.
“Make this one disappear.”
“Did you stab him?”
“Yes.”
“Then you do it.”
She purses her lips and hovers over him as his hands reach out for her. The Hellion wheezes and growls low. When it drops its hands for a moment, Marcella smashes its head in with the pipe. The Hellion sags on the sidewalk and disappears. When it’s gone, she leans back on the streetlight.
When I’m close enough, I take the pipe from her hand and throw it away. I don’t want her getting any ideas.
“Do you believe yet?”
She looks up at me. Nods.
“I didn’t until I stabbed him. I felt the metal in my hand. It was real and sharp, and when I shoved it into his chest, I knew it wasn’t a trick.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
She looks around.
“How long did you spend here?”
“Eleven years, the first time.”
“And you were alive the whole time?”
“Yeah. You’re one of the only other living humans to ever see the place. Congratulations.”
She flexes her fist. Her knuckles are red where she must have punched the Hellion before stabbing it. Marcella is tough. I wish she was on our side.
“Get me out of here.”
I take her hand and pull her into a shadow. We come out again in the bowling alley. She collapses on one of the lanes. I let her sit there for a while.
“You’re a torturer after all,” she says. “You sure had me fooled.”
“I wouldn’t have had to leave you there if you weren’t so full of shit.”
She looks at me from the floor.
“You can take me back there any time you want, can’t you?”
“Yes. I can.”
She shakes her head, picks up a piece of one of the pins I shot earlier, toys with it. Tosses it away.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything.”
Now I’m getting annoyed.
“Why not?”
She gestures back at the shadow we came through.
“Because now I know what will happen to me.”
“You mean damnation? If you tell me you’re afraid you’ll be damned?”
“I know I will.”
“You faction types must have some good preachers.”
She smiles, but it’s exhausted and unconvincing.
“The best.”
“Then you’re going to want to help me, Marcella.”
“Why?”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re already going to Hell for the things you’ve done. And when you get there, I’m the one who can get you out.”
That makes her laugh.
“My my. The salvation of my eternal soul rests with Sandman Slim.”
“The world is funny that way.”
“And if I still won’t tell you?”
“I’ll put you right back in the ditch.”
She looks at me.
“I think you would.”
“Test me.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “Ask your questions.”
I hold out a hand to her.
“Get off the floor. Let’s pretend we’re people for a minute.”
I help her up and we sit on the padded seats by the scoring table.
“You ready?” I say.
“You’ll really come for me if I help you?”
“I haven’t lied to you so far. Well, except for my name. But you’re lying to me about your name, so we’re even there.”
She rubs her hands together nervously.
“Ask your questions.”
“Let’s start with what’s going to happen. The way I heard it, you’re going to nuke L.A.”
That makes her chuckle.
“It’s a cleansing and consecration of the land. But, yes, the Los Angeles you know will be wiped away.”
“And you’ll do it with a ritual.”
She nods wearily.
“Yes.”
“Does it happen Saturday or Sunday?”
With her thumb, she draws a cross in the dust on the table. Wipes it away with her fist.
“You might want to fire whoever is getting you your information.”
“It’s not this weekend? Then when?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Friday?”
Finally, some good news. Wormwood wants me to clean up their mess by Sunday, but I’ll have it done tomorrow. Then Howard does his spook show and I’m home free. I could be talking to Candy by sometime Saturday.
“Where does it happen?”
“The Chapel of St. Alexis.”
“I