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“Hell yes,” she says, holding up the guitar.
“It’s a midseventies Fender Duo-Sonic. The guy said it’s a piece of shit, but it’s just like Patti Smith’s first electric guitar.”
She balances it on her knees and hits a chord. It’s horrible.
“I think you have to tune it first.”
I sit down next to her.
“How did you get it?”
“A guy owed me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I didn’t break his arms.”
She leans over and rests her head on my shoulder.
“What are we going to do now?”
“Pack up. Go to Max and figure things out from there.”
“Saving the world is hard.”
“Yeah, but at least we’re not in Fresno.”
She elbows me in the ribs.
“I haven’t said anything to anyone, but when we were swimming away from Kill City, I think I saw one of the Angra.”
Candy pushes away from me.
“It’s loose in the city?”
“No. She got sucked back into the mall. But it means they’re closer to getting out.”
“Goddamn.”
“Sorry. I needed to say something to someone. Don’t tell anyone else.”
“Okay.”
“We should start packing.”
“Okay,” she says. “Thanks for the guitar. I notice you didn’t get me an amp.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Coward.”
“Damn right.”
AN HOUR LATER I’m moving things over to Max Overdrive by hand through the Room. I do it all myself. It would be too strange to have Candy and Kasabian marching through and seeing Father Traven every few minutes. I apologize to him every time I come through. I bring him some pillows and a blanket. It’s not like he’s going to get cold in the room. The temperature never changes. But they’re normal things. Things that will let him feel human in a pretty inhuman situation. I look around for a book I can give him, but all I can find is a month-old issue of Entertainment Weekly.
“I’ll get some of your stuff from Vidocq soon. I promise.”
“I know,” he says. He’s so fucking sincere it can just break your heart.
