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With the knife against his throat, I pull him into the garage and push the hood off my face. Say a few hoodoo words, and the glamour winks off. I’m me again.
“I did it because I’m Sandman Slim and I’m two seconds from turning you into a bologna sandwich.”
He lurches back, more surprised than afraid. I grab him.
“What’s it going to be, General? Helheim or I can leave your carcass here for a vendor to cut up and put on the spits in the market.”
He says, “I’m telling you. It’s days from here.”
“I’m guessing there’s light there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Light. Enough light to throw shadows in the crevices in ice and mountains.”
“Sure. Lots of shadows.”
“Then it won’t take days. Turn around and lean your back against the front of the bike.”
I hand him two short lengths of rope.
“Tie each leg to the front forks.”
“What are you going to do?”
I punch him in the solar plexus. It doubles him over and motivates him to stay down and tie himself to the bike.
“What’s happening is this. I’m going to try something because I’m on a tight schedule. What you’re going to do is think real hard about Helheim and I’m going to click my heels together and we’ll be there in no time flat.”
He finishes tying his legs and stands up.
“You’re as crazy as they say.”
“No. Crazy is when I break your arms and legs and bury you alive just to see if you can dig your way out. Want to play that game, General? Bet I can find a shovel or two for sale.”
He shakes his head, clear-eyed. There’s nothing better to sober you up than the certainty of your own imminent death.
I hand him a strip of cloth.
“Tie that around your eyes. Tight. If I don’t think it’s tight enough, I’ll just slice your eyes out so you can’t see how we’re getting there.”
“I’m tying it,” he says through gritted teeth.
When I’m sure he isn’t playing possum, I push one of his arms out over the handlebars.
“Tie your arm on. Do it tight. If you fall off, you’re going to get run over.”
He has to use one other hand and his teeth, but he gets it done. I have to help him tie the other side while keeping the knife to his throat. It isn’t easy for either of us. When we’re finished, he’s spread-eagled over the front of the Hellion hog.
“How you feeling up there? Snug as a bug?”
“You are crazy. People will see us. You’ll crash the bike and kill us both.”
“The only thing that’s going to hurt us is if you don’t think of Helheim. If we end up anywhere else, you’re going to be road gravy. Understood?”
“Understood.”
I start the bike and check that my new best friend’s legs are clear of the wheels and the road. When I’m sure, I get on the bike and ease it into first and do a one-eighty turn. There’s a nice fat shadow across the street on the side of a burned-out grocery.
