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“And here you are.”
“And here I am. Alive and not quite yet mad.”
He finishes his drink and holds up the empty glass for another.
“The point is that I believe we will survive. Or enough of us will to make the world worth fighting for.”
“It better be. I’m not kickboxing monsters so the Vigil and Homeland Security can turn L.A. into one big It’s a Small World ride.”
One of the Luderes gives a little shriek. She’s been stung by one of the scorpions. The shrieker gives the room a little wave.
“Sorry. Everyone’s fine. Carry on.”
She and her friend crack up.
I turn back to Vidocq, but there’s someone in the way. One of the Goth boys from the table in the back has joined us. He’s dressed in a long high-collared coat and has wild Robert Smith hair. He looks vaguely like a mad scientist disguised as a priest. There’s something funny about his eyes. I glance over at his friends. They look as surprised as I am.
“No autographs today, kid,” I say. “I’m with friends.”
The kid takes a step. Stumbles and slams into the bar. I have to grab his arm to keep him from falling over.
He says, “It’s not going to stop. No matter what you do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s my message to you. It’s never going to stop.”
I know what’s wrong with his eyes. He’s possessed. In Hell there’s a key. If you know how to use it, and not many down there do, you can temporarily take possession of a body up here. Someone is riding this kid like he’s a carousel pony.
“He isn’t Death. Or God or the Devil. He is the Hand. Cut one off and another takes his place. He is many-bodied. Many-handed. A hand for each soul on Earth.”
I slap the kid. Shake him. His eyes stay vacant and dead.
“Who are you? Who gave you the message?”
“Come out and see,” he says.
Vidocq puts a hand on my arm.
“Don’t you dare go anywhere with this boy. He is dangerous.”
“I know. But if there’s something out there I can’t stay here.”
“Don’t be stupid,” says Carlos. “Let me call the cops. This is why I pay the fuckers.”
I nod.
“Maybe calling them isn’t a bad idea.”
I turn to Vidocq.
“Keep everyone else inside.”
The kid is still holding on to me.
“Let’s go,” I say.
I get up and the kid lets go of me, leading the way outside. I put my hand under the coat and slip out my na’at.
