The Kill Society

by Richard Kadrey

  “Did I mention I was fucking murdered? Even when I first landed in Hell, I wasn’t this off balance.”

  “Still. It’s disappointing.”

  “I watched you massacre whole towns because they annoyed you. It made me wonder what’s this guy going to do if he finds out I’m an Abomination.”

  “The Abomination,” says Vehuel.

  “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “You raise a fair point,” the Magistrate says. “But from now on, no more secrets.”

  “I’m fresh out of those right now.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Hello, Alice,” says Traven. “I’m Liam.”

  They shake hands.

  I say, “Besides the Magistrate, Father Traven is the only one around here with any brains. I knew him back in L.A. after you, you know . . .”

  “Died,” she says. “I won’t be offended if you say it. You’re dead, too.”

  “Yeah and it’s weird.”

  Alice looks across the table.

  “Hi, Cherry,” she says.

  “Hi, Alice,” rasps Cherry through her respirator.

  “Love the fur coat. Or did you just stop shaving your back?”

  “You’re not fooling anyone with that armor. You look like you’re trick-or-treating for UNICEF.”

  “Cherry?” says the Magistrate. “Mimir? How many names do you have, my oracle?”

  She puts her hand over his.

  “I am your Mimir.”

  “Shit, Cherry. Take off that stupid mask so we can understand you,” I say.

  The Magistrate reaches over and pulls the mask down off her nose and mouth.

  “This, too, was a lie?”

  She puts both of her hands over his.

  “I had to disguise myself. I was afraid of people from my old life. People like him,” she says, looking at me. “Cherry was my name in the mortal world. Before I knew my powers and my true calling.”

  Alice cocks her head.

  “Did she tell you that back in the mortal world, she used to sell overpriced Hello Kitties and teddy bears?”

  “They weren’t overpriced,” snaps Cherry. “They were imports.”

  “And the great power she’s talking about? Back on Earth she used it to turn herself into jailbait, not to see the future,” says Alice.

  “Fuck you, bitch!”

  Cherry takes a swing at her, but the Magistrate grabs her and pushes her back into her chair.

  “We will talk later, Mimir.”

  “You still believe in me, right? I’m still your oracle. Even Jimmy believes in me and he hates me.”

  “I don’t hate you. Okay, sometimes. But I do believe you’re an oracle.”

  “I will keep your endorsement in mind, Sandman Slim. As I will the fact that she lied to me about you.”

  The threat hangs there, but for once it’s not aimed at me, so who cares? So I say, “Please don’t call me that. It’s a terrible name.”

  “Strewth,” mumbles Johnny.

  “You raise an interesting point,” says the Magistrate. “Beyond your name, what are we to tell the havoc about you?”

  “Just tell them that I got lucky. Or that I’m crazy. Most of them already think it. Besides, they don’t care about me. There are four angels having a smoke outside and two in here. I think people are a lot more interested in them than my ugly ass.”

  “I thought I was finally getting a handle on you,” Daja says angrily.

  “And I was trying to stay out of Tartarus.”

  “Was anything you said true? Starting with you up on that mountain?”

  “Everything about the mountain is true. Someday I’m going to find Death and dance on his balls to thank him.”

  “I still maintain that Death sent Stark to us for a reason,” says Traven. “And I think the presence of these angels proves it.”

  “You knew who he was this whole time, too, didn’t you?” says the Magistrate.

  “Yes. I did.”

  “You were friends in the mortal world?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, your chief loyalty was to him and not to me, who saved you, or to our cause.”

  Traven runs his fingers along the edge of the table.

  “Speak freely,” the Magistrate says.

  Traven looks into his eyes. “Very well. The thing is, I was happy in Blue Heaven. The havoc appeared from nowhere and burned my home to the ground. You slaughtered my friends in front of me. Except where it comes to Stark, I’ve been loyal to you. But it was mostly out of fear.”

  “I see. Thank you, Father. That is food for thought,” the Magistrate says. “Since this seems to be a day for secret sharing, I will share with you one of mine. I’m sure all of you are curious as to what it is that we have been carrying with us all this time. It is a weapon. A weapon that could turn the tide of the war in Heaven.”

  He looks at me.

  “But, of course, you knew that already, didn’t you, Mr. Stark?”

  “Just the weapon part. I didn’t want you to point it at me, so I never mentioned it.”

  “Naturally. But the truth is that I could have pointed it at you all day and all night and you would have been perfectly safe because the gun lacks one key component.”

  “The Lux Occisor,” says Traven.

  “Exactly,” says the Magistrate. “The weapon could blow apart the gates and walls of Heaven or dispatch its enemies to oblivion. But it is a dead thing without the Light Killer.”

  Something occurs to me.

  “Let me guess: the light the gun wants to kill . . . it’s Lucifer, isn’t it?”

  “It was at one time. The weapon was built for a final assault on Lucifer and his army. But it was never used because God sent the great betrayer over the walls himself with a sword fashioned from a thunderbolt.”

  “And you need the sword to work the gun.”

  “Very good, my boy. You have a good head for these things.”

  “I killed a lot of generals over the years.”

  “I only wish that our crusade were that simple. We had completed the first task. We found the obelisk. It would have led us to the Lux Occisor, but now it lies in ruins,” the Magistrate says. He drops back in the chair exhausted. “I must admit, at the moment I am at a loss as to what to do next. Do we wander from town to town forever, hoping for more scraps of information, while above us, armies of darkness seek to destroy God and all his works?”

  “I’ve copied one side of the obelisk. I might still be able to figure it out,” says Traven.

  “There’s no need,” says Vehuel. “I believe we can help you on your search.”

  “You know what the obelisk says?”

  “No. But we believe that we know the whereabouts of the sword.”

  “That’s wonderful. Can you take us there?”

  Vehuel takes a step closer to the Magistrate.

  “Perhaps. But I need you to swear an oath that the weapon you carry will only be used against the enemies of the Lord and will be returned to him once we have put down the rebellion.”

  “And open Heaven to all these losers,” I say. “Don’t forget that part.”

  “Of course,” says Vehuel.

  “What does opening Heaven mean?” says Wanuri.

  I say, “It means you get to choose. You can stay Downtown, live in a shit hole like Pandemonium or the Dust Bowl out here, or you can ride your Harley straight through the pearly gates.”

  “We could leave Hell and go to Heaven?”

  “Or stay. The whole point is you get to choose.”

  “And this was your idea?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Of course it was his idea. He’s really not as dumb as he looks,” says Alice.

  “I agree to all of your terms, Vehuel,” says the Magistrate. “We, too, want the war ended as quickly as possible.”

  “Very well. We have a bargain,” she says.

  “How far away is the sword?”

  “It isn’t far, b
ut it’s not wise for you to travel in the open anymore. We will take you there through the secret channel. An underground river that is known to very few in Perdition.”

  “Excellent. When can we begin?”

  “Soon. The river isn’t far, but it’s over a set of high hills and many of your vehicles are damaged. We will help repair them.”

  “Since when are angels grease monkeys?” says Frederickson.

  “Since forever,” I say. “Angels built the fucking universe. I think they can strip a diesel engine.”

  Daja says, “Magistrate, things aren’t good in the havoc. Morale is low. People are beginning to doubt the crusade. I don’t think the attack today is going to help the situation.”

  “I will speak to them. Now that we have angels sent directly from the Almighty on our side, they will see the value of our work.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Trust me.”

  Johnny clears his throat.

  “Excuse me. Now that there’s a plan and everything is right with the world, can I have a word with this drongo?”

  I look around, and realize he’s pointing at me. I’m the drongo?

  What the fuck is a drongo?

  “You may address him, but not me,” says Vehuel.

  “Much obliged, ma’am.”

  He looks at me.

  “If I understand things right, you’re some big-time killer. Murdered Hellions and generals and such?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And there’s talk you met Lucifer along the way.”

  I look at Wanuri. She’s the only one I told about meeting him.

  “What’s your point?”

  “My point is you cut up that angel easy enough today. Why didn’t you kill Lucifer?”

  “He’s not exactly a regular angel.”

  “Did you even try?”

  Before I can come up with a way to answer, Vehuel says, “I believe you knew Lucifer well at one point. Even called on him as an ally.”

  “You’re not helping,” I tell her. “And that was later. When I was in L.A.”

  “Having tea and cakes with old Scratch, were you?” says Johnny. “That must have been cozy.”

  “It’s called a strategic alliance. And I was trying to save the world.”

  “What about saving us down here?” he shouts.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I stabbed him once when he pissed me off.”

  “But you let him live? Bollocks to you, mate. From now on, just keep your distance.”

  “I wouldn’t order the Abomination around,” says Alice. “Not if you want to make it to Heaven.”

  “Fuck Heaven and fuck him.”

  I don’t need to read micro-expressions to see that Frederickson, Billy, and Barbora are with Johnny on this. Gisco seems all right. Hell, I think he’s the only one having a good time. I’m not sure about Wanuri and, especially, Daja.

  Vehuel looks at the dirty pocket where I put the golden knife.

  “I take it that you intend to keep Simiel’s dagger?”

  “That’s exactly what I intend.”

  “Be careful,” she says. “Some angels won’t appreciate you having it.”

  “You mean a dirty Abomination?”

  “I mean someone who, until very recently, was as much our enemy as the rebellious angels.”

  “But now you and me are on the same side, so relax.”

  “Angels aren’t exactly kick-back-and-relax types. But you know that,” says Alice.

  She looks at Vehuel.

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “I don’t need a talking-to,” I say.

  “You sure do, dummy,” says Alice.

  The Magistrate says, “I think that we should end our meeting for now. As Daja said, the havoc will be getting restless. If our angel guests will join us outside, I will address the camp and tell them the wonderful news that you will lead us to our next stop on the crusade.”

  “What are we supposed to say about him,” says Daja, giving me the evil eye.

  “Nothing. He remains Mr. Pitts for now. A lost soul crazy enough and lucky enough to trick an angel into destroying itself.”

  The Magistrate leads Vehuel outside. Alice goes next and I follow her.

  Traven claps me on the back and nods to Alice before going back to his camper to write everything down. Always the record keeper.

  Daja shoots me a look as she goes past. Johnny spits by my feet. Barbora and Billy don’t look at me. Gisco says something to Alice and she says something back that makes him smile.

  “Great. Now that you have your wings, you can understand languages, too.”

  “Yep. Every one ever spoken.”

  “Show-off.”

  “Jealous.”

  Doris comes out and pats me on the cheek.

  “I knew you were a good boy.”

  Wanuri stops in front of us. She looks at Alice.

  “So, you’re an angel.”

  “That’s how I got the wings.”

  Wanuri hooks a thumb at me.

  “You knew him from before. Back on Earth.”

  “We used to sleep in the same bed. Getting to know him was inevitable.”

  “Your boyfriend? You’re a brave woman. Fifty times a day some of us have plotted his tragic demise.”

  “Trust me, I know how you feel.”

  I look at them both.

  “You know I’m standing right here, right?”

  Wanuri says, “I suppose if an old love comes all the way to Hell to fight for someone, that person must have some redeeming qualities.”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Yes he does. He just can’t control what comes out of his mouth,” says Alice.

  “But he really tried to open Hell for us?”

  “He really did.”

  “All right,” Wanuri says. “I hereby declare you not entirely useless.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to shoot me in the back?”

  “We’ll see. Can’t speak for Johnny, though. He’s mean when he gets like this.”

  “I got that impression.”

  “Take care, Mr. and Mrs. Pitts,” says Wanuri, heading back to center camp.

  Before I can say anything, Alice pulls me down to sit on the steps of the motor home.

  “I’m sorry you’re really dead,” she says.

  “Me too. Now I know what all these poor saps feel like. When I was alive and in Hell, I always thought I’d find a way home. Later, when I had the Room of Thirteen Doors, I didn’t think about real damnation much at all. Was Heaven hard, too?”

  “At first. I missed you. I missed our friends. I missed burritos and sashimi. But I got used to it. There’s a lot to do and a lot of very interesting, very nice people.”

  “It sounds horrible.”

  “It really isn’t. How’s that girl of yours? Candy?”

  “Candy. I don’t know how she is. I wasn’t exactly rational when you were killed and I wasn’t even there. Candy saw me get murdered, so I have a feeling she’s not in good shape.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “She killed the guy who stuck me, though. I keep hoping I run into him down here. That would be fun.”

  “See? That’s exactly the kind of thinking that gets you in trouble. Focus. One war at a time. You have forever to find him. Or forgive him. That’s an option, too, you know.”

  “If you’re recruiting for Heaven, I’ll pass. Tell me about your wings.”

  “You know how it is in Heaven these days.”

  “I’m dead. I don’t get the newsletter anymore.”

  “But you can guess. Anyway, a lot of angels went all Lex Luthor. A lot on our side have been killed. When I found out that they were letting souls take some of their places, I said why not? I even have an angel name now: Penemue.”

  “I’ll stick with Alice.”

  “Please do.”

  I take out the Maledictions. Alice shudders.

  “I heard you smoked those thi
ngs these days.”

  “I don’t have to if it’s going to bug you.”

  “No. Go ahead if it’s going to calm you. That’s what you need to be for a while. Calm and boring. Let this whole angel murder episode fade from people’s memories.”

  I light up and take a puff.

  Alice waves the smoke away.

  “Oh God. It’s like you’re smoking a pig’s ass, and the pig isn’t well.”

  I blow smoke in the other direction, and then say, “Not that I particularly care, but how do people feel about me Upstairs? I suppose in some ways the war is my fault. I thought opening Heaven would fix things, but it just made everything worse.”

  “You’re right about that,” she says. “But you’re also not Einstein.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means you’re hardly the first one who thought about opening Heaven. It means the war would have happened sooner or later.”

  “Then everyone doesn’t hate me?”

  She waggles her hand up and down a few times.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I thought you didn’t care.”

  “I don’t. And most angels can still kiss my ass.”

  “Say that louder. I’m not sure Vehuel heard you.”

  “I always wondered, do you have movie nights in Heaven?”

  “All the time.”

  “Damn. Good ones or just Shirley Temple stuff?”

  “Every movie ever made. And some new ones. We have a lot of actors, writers, and directors up there. I got to be an extra in Sam Fuller’s new movie.”

  “Samuel Fuller? How did he end up in Heaven?”

  “A lot of artists make it. Contributions to humanity count for a lot.”

  “So everything would be different if I’d listened to Mom and took accordion lessons.”

  “Yes. Your life would be completely different and you’d be fluttering around a cloud jamming with Django Reinhardt.”

  “See, now I think you’re fibbing.”

  “We are who we are, Jim. There’s no changing that, back in the mortal world or here.”

  “You mean there are miserable, depressed assholes in Heaven, too?”

  “Of course.”

  “A lot?”

  “Enough.”

  “And they piss everyone off?”

  “They sure do.”

  “Good.”

  She bumps her shoulder into mine. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “You too. You look good with a couple of scars.”