King Bullet

by Richard Kadrey

We come out a block behind the barricade line. The little Prius has enough momentum that it’s still speeding toward the National Guard. But it’s so shot up there’s barely anything left of it. As it slows and almost stops, the bus plows into it, still rocketing forward as the guns blast big fat holes in it.

  The Guard troops hold the line until the last second. As they scatter, the bus and Prius plow into the barricade of armored vehicles at top speed. The whole grinding mass explodes into a rolling fireball that boils into the sky, turning the boulevard pumpkin orange.

  When we’re out of sight of the Guard troops, I say, “I’m going on alone.”

  “But why? You might need help.”

  “There’s enough craziness going on that if I get to the hotel soon, I don’t think he’ll be expecting me. But if I’m wrong, I need someone who knows what she’s doing looking after Janet and everyone.”

  “All right. But I don’t like it.”

  I shadow walk her to the apartment, but don’t stay to chat. I then go back through the Room and come out down the block from the Hollywood Hawaiian. Even when I get closer there doesn’t seem to be anyone outside. I step into another shadow and come out behind a palm tree by the pool.

  There are a couple of especially ugly Shoggots by the hotel lobby. I want to do this quietly, so I slip out of a shadow inside with the na’at in my hand, forming it into a long blade, and skewer them both through the throat before they can make a sound. Dragging their bodies into the lobby, I spot a Shoggot sitting in one of the few chaise longues not in the pool. There’s one more by the entrance to the bridal suite.

  I throw the black blade at the one in the chaise longue and hit him right between the eyes. He falls onto the chair like he’s gone to sleep. The Shoggot by the bridal suite doesn’t seem to notice, so I retrieve the blade and duck into a shadow. Come out behind him and slit his throat, lowering his body to the ground gently so he doesn’t make any noise.

  Jumping into one last shadow, I come out behind the table where King Bullet had been sitting. Lucky me, he’s still there watching Julie Andrews. His phone rings a moment later, distracting him. I wait for the conversation to start.

  “You’re still at the Center? What? How many are hurt?”

  While he yammers, I get ready to take what he suggested earlier—his head.

  I manifest my Gladius and he takes the phone from his face. The glow of the blade is reflected into the phone’s glass. Shit.

  I swing the blade down as fast as I can, but he jumps out of the way and all I kill is his table.

  He runs across the room and puts up his hands to blast me with black light. I duck it, tuck and roll under the boiling black mist, and come up right in front of him. Surprised, he takes a step back. This time he’s not fast enough. I swing the Gladius up and take off his right hand halfway up the forearm. He shouts for his guard, but no one answers. Falling back against the wall, he hits me with the black light from his remaining hand.

  The mist sucks me in, but with King Bullet injured it’s not as powerful as the first time. Still, things scramble around me, all teeth and claws. I swing the Gladius, but there are too many to stop them all. A couple dig their claws into my stomach, trying to gut me like a trout. I bring the blade down and scare them off, but not before they rip me open enough that it makes my head swim. Shouting hoodoo and swinging the Gladius, I drag myself out of the black light.

  King Bullet is slumped on the floor, bleeding. His mask is askew, but still on. I want to rip it off, but he has one of his narco pistols out and starts blasting. Holding my stomach wound closed, I throw myself into a shadow and come out in the hall outside my apartment. I can’t get up right away, so I sit quietly catching my breath.

  Well, I didn’t get King Bullet’s head, but I got a piece of him and that’s something. It proves he’s solid and human and that means he can be hurt. And killed. I want to go back and finish him off, but I can’t quite get off the floor. I’ll have to pencil in his murder for another day.

  My phone rings and I take it out. It’s Abbot. Thumbing it on, I say, “What?”

  “Stark? Is that you?”

  “Who else would it be.”

  “You just don’t sound like yourself.”

  “I’m just having a little lie down. What’s going on?”

  “Did you have anything to do with the crash on Hollywood Boulevard tonight?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The mayor and governor are going insane.”

  “L.A. is falling apart and they weren’t insane before? It’s nice to know they have priorities.”

  “Listen, that’s not all I’m calling about. I have information on the Golden Vigil’s weapon. The one we think can take down King Bullet.”

  I’m bleeding badly and I think whatever lives in the black light rearranged some of my organs.

  “That’s great, but this isn’t really the best time to talk.”

  “When is a good time?” he says, sounding exasperated.

  “Three days ago.”

  “Do you want the information or not?”

  “Sure. Give it to me.”

  “All of the Vigil’s equipment is in a special high-security hangar at Edwards Air Force Base.”

  “Swell. Can you get me inside?”

  “There might be a problem with that.”

  “Isn’t there always?”

  “I thought that with your unusual talents you might be able to get in on your own.”

  Bleeding and in a world of pain, I can’t help but smile.

  “You bad man. You want me to break the law.”

  “No, I don’t. I want you to help end this. But the Vigil is still under investigation and virtually no one can get inside. You going in on your own might be the only way to retrieve the weapon.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know, but I have an inventory number.”

  “Give it to me.”

  He does and I start to fade.

  “Is that all?” I say.

  “Are you all right? You sound terrible.”

  “I’m just sad that I’m out of Cheetos.”

  “Goddammit. Will you go in for the weapon?”

  “Sure. But not tonight. Tonight, I have to rest.”

  “I knew that was you in the Hollywood crash.”

  “Good night, Abbot.”

  “Get the weapon soon.”

  I thumb off the phone and fumble around trying to get it into my pocket. Finally, when I can get to my feet, I stumble over to the apartment door and bang on it.

  Allegra throws it open and sticks the Devil’s Daisy in my face again.

  “Didn’t we already do this?” I say. But she shoves me out of the way and shoots into the hall. A couple of King Bullet’s goons vaporize behind me. They must have been staking the place out.

  “Thanks,” I say before falling into Allegra’s arms. I don’t remember what happens after that.

  I wake up the next morning with Janet beside me. There’s a long gash in my stomach but it’s stitched closed. Thank you, Allegra. Janet stirs awake as I sit up. They kiss me on the cheek.

  “How do you feel?”

  I rub my stomach.

  “All right. But I could use a cigarette and a drink.”

  “You can have coffee and a donut.”

  “Where did you get donuts?”

  “There are other donut shops in L.A.”

  “That must have hurt.”

  “It did. But just a little. Everything is so crazy right now, I don’t know what to expect next. At least you’re safe.”

  I put an arm around them and we lie back down.

  “What time is it?” I say.

  “Just after one. Why? Do you have to be somewhere?”

  “Not have to, but I want to. I had an idea while I was asleep.”

  “Unconscious. You were unconscious.”

  “I feel a lot better now.”

  They sit up, leaning on an elbow.
>
  “I was so scared when you came in.”

  “I’ve been hurt a lot worse.”

  “I’m glad I wasn’t around when that happened.”

  “Me too.”

  “Come and have some coffee.”

  I follow them into the crowded living room. Before I can even say hello, Brigitte wants to know what happened after she left. I tell everyone, but Brigitte is the only one who gets excited.

  “You took his hand? You should have kept it as a souvenir.”

  “I wish I’d thought of it.”

  “Good for you,” says Kasabian. “That asshole won’t be bothering anyone for a while.”

  I scratch my ear.

  “I wouldn’t count on that. He heals fast too. And he’s really going to be out for my blood after this. We hurt a lot of Shoggots last night, but we don’t know how many he has left.”

  “What are you going to do?” says Allegra.

  I don’t answer right away because I don’t want to have to tell them, but there’s no way around it.

  “I’m going to see someone who might be able to help.”

  “That’s great news,” says Janet. “I want to come with you. You need looking after.”

  I shake my head.

  “You can’t. None of you can.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m going to see the Dark Eternal.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Vampires,” says Brigitte, and I’m a bit surprised she doesn’t spit on my floor.

  “They can’t hurt me, but the rest of you are lunch snacks to them.”

  “Are you sure they can’t hurt you?” says Janet.

  “My blood is toxic to vampires. And they know it. They won’t lay a hand on me.”

  Janet gets up and goes back into the bedroom. I follow them in and find them lying down again.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and they say, “I know you have to go see those people. The vampires. But this kind of thing is still new to me, you know. It’s hard to deal with sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry. I know my life is a train wreck. I want to forget all of this kind of thing. Vampires. King Bullet. I want to be quiet. Be boring.”

  Janet sits up.

  “Is that what I am to you? Somewhere boring you can play house?”

  Goddamn my mouth. This is what happens when I try to be a person.

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant ordinary. Someone who isn’t afraid to be ordinary or go into a grocery store.”

  Janet takes a breath and looks away.

  “Being called ordinary isn’t much better than being boring, but I’ll take it for now.”

  “Look, I’m terrible at talking about these things. I’ve been a killer most of my life. Everything that isn’t that is new and strange and hard.”

  Janet puts a hand on my arm.

  “I know. It’s new and hard for me too.”

  I lie down with them.

  “Let’s just stay here for a while. I can go out later.”

  They lay an arm across me, careful to avoid the stitches.

  “I thought vampires were asleep during the day,” Janet says.

  “They’re up all hours. They just can’t go outside in daylight.”

  “I suppose garlic and crosses don’t work either.”

  “Don’t ever show a vampire a cross. They’ll laugh in your face. And then tear open your throat.”

  “There’s a lot to learn about your nonboring world.”

  “There’s nothing boring about yours,” I say.

  We lie there together for a while, not talking. Half-dozing. My mind flashes to Candy for a moment. Another killer, I never had to explain anything to her. That was the ordinary world. Not this one I’m trying to learn to navigate. But I have to learn to love it or Janet will be gone the way Candy is. Then I really will be alone, and I’m not good at that. Even Kasabian doesn’t need me anymore. Maybe I should just give up and get a goldfish. They don’t need a lot of upkeep and they’d always be happy to see me when I show up with dinner. Maybe that’s the quiet life I’ve really been looking for. Just me and a shiny dimwit in a little bowl watching movies until we each go belly-up. Requiescat in pace.

  That’s so depressing I almost want to laugh. Instead I get my PTSD pills.

  Later, when I’m feeling more functional, I get out of bed and put on fresh clothes. Janet is asleep or just doesn’t want to deal with me, so I leave them under the covers and go out through a bedroom shadow because I can’t handle talking to anyone right now.

  The Dark Eternal used to be based out of a club in West Hollywood, but since the epidemic they took over a boutique movie theater and bar complex closer in on Sunset. They still have the same club atmosphere in the bar, but the theater lets them show old movies 24/7 to bored shroud eaters who can’t go outside during daylight hours. Rumor is that they franchised the idea to other vampire clans in virus hot spots in the Valley and Glendale.

  The front doors are blacked out and locked. I don’t bother putting my mask on. Just go in through a shadow and stroll by a concession stand that looks more like a butcher shop than a place to get overpriced M&M’s.

  It takes the bouncers all of two seconds to realize I’m not one of them before I’m surrounded by heavy security. I put up my hands and open my coat to show them that I left my weapons back at the apartment.

  “What do you want here?” says one, a huge beef cutlet with a Nick Fury eyepatch.

  “I’m here to see Cole.”

  “Forget it. He’s watching the movie.”

  “What are you showing?”

  “Neill Blomkamp’s Alien 5.”

  I frown.

  “You can get that only at Max Overdrive. Does he have a membership?”

  “Him and Kasabian have and understanding.”

  “So, it’s like protection money.”

  The cutlet shrugs. “Call it what you want. Cole is tied up.”

  “Damn. I’d like to see that on a big screen. Do you think—?”

  “I think you can leave before there’s trouble.”

  I show meat mountain my throat.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and take a bite, big boy? Or don’t you want to turn into minestrone soup?”

  “No one’s going to bite you, but that won’t stop us from breaking every bone in your body.”

  There is that. “What if I told you I have Max Overdrive’s only copy of Danger: Diabolik with Alain Delon as Diabolik? Would that get me a meeting with him?”

  The beef cutlet looks at another mound of bloodsucker muscle. Cutlet number two nods. Nick Fury says, “Don’t move,” and goes into the theater, leaving me surrounded by a deli platter of seven-foot-tall luncheon meat.

  I look at one and raise my arm to make a muscle.

  “You lift, bro? I used to until I blew out my patty melt.”

  He squints at me. “A patty melt’s a sandwich.”

  “I know. It shot right out of me while I was working my core. Hit another bro in the eye. The pickles blinded him. I still feel bad about it. And to this day, I haven’t touched another patty melt.”

  “Why don’t we make the lobby into a library and not talk for a while?”

  “Why don’t we.”

  “Everything about you is aggravating.”

  “Okay. But don’t ever do dead lifts after eating chicken vindaloo. That stuff will go right through concrete.”

  “What did I just say?”

  I hold up an imaginary key in front of my mouth and turn it, locking my lips shut.

  A minute or so later, who comes out of the theater but Cole Sumner himself? He’s only five foot six or so, but is supposed to be a major danger in a fight and smart as Mr. Peabody.

  “Hello, Stark. I understand you have a movie I might want.”

  “I do,” I say. “But more than that, I’m willing to make you an offer.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Partner with me to take down King Bullet.”

  Cole r
aises his eyebrows and the meat smorgasbord around us laughs.

  “And why would we do that?” Cole says. “We already have an understanding with the King. He leaves us alone and we stay clear of him.”

  “Yeah, but think about it. The city has to be slim pickings right now with everyone locked in their apartments and no one on the streets but heavily armed cops and crazies. You partner with me and we take down the King, you’ll have his entire Shoggot army to feed on.”

  Cole checks his watch.

  “They’ve paused the movie for me, so I’m going to make this quick. I’m a man of my word. When I make a deal, I stick with it. And for your information, Shoggots aren’t exactly prime meals for us. The virus in their blood ruins most of the nutrients we need, so why should we want more of them? And last, you’re crazier than the King and I don’t partner with crazies. So the answer is no.”

  This is exactly what I was afraid of. They think they have no stake in this fight. That King Bullet isn’t going to come after them once he’s done with the mortal population of the city. But I can tell that it’s pointless to argue.

  “I get it,” I say. “You cut a sweet deal for you and your people. But you can’t like that fucker. Is there anything you can tell me about him? Where’s he from? What’s his ultimate goal? Some kind of weakness?”

  Cole is already walking away when he says, “There’s no deal here for you, Stark. We’re set up. Maybe you should check with the Dreamers. Those freaks will talk to anyone. But you better scoot. I hear the virus got a lot of them too. Happy hunting.”

  “Okay, but you’re really missing out not seeing this Danger: Diabolik. There’s a flying car.”

  He stops and looks at me.

  “Diabolik has a flying car?”

  “No. But wouldn’t it be great if he did?”

  “Give him some popcorn and throw him out, boys. I don’t want to see you again, Stark, movie or not.”

  Samuel Jackson cutlet shoves a jumbo popcorn carton into my hands. He and the meat patrol frog walk me to the door and toss me out. The popcorn flies everywhere, but I manage to stay on my feet, leaving me with half a carton. So my life continues to suck but, hey, free popcorn. I’m already coming out ahead. In between bites I dial Abbot, but he’s not there. I start making calls, trying to track down the remaining Dreamers. It takes a while, but I finally get an address. When I finish the popcorn, I steal a Mercedes and head down south to Compton.