Ballistic Kiss

by Richard Kadrey

  After ten minutes of watching Stein go nuts, I’m fed up and decide to head out. There’s nothing more to learn here. Except, he’s ignored me enough that I get sloppy leaving the bedroom and step on some glass. The moment he hears it, he looks straight at me. I remember how these dead assholes can turn over cars, so no more fucking around. Sorry, pal. Whatever it is you’re pissed about, you’re not going to take it out on me.

  The moment he steps in my direction, I bark some Hellion hoodoo.

  And exactly nothing happens to him.

  I try it again, turning up the volume a little. Still nothing. When he rushes me, I pull out some arena battle hoodoo and blast him right in the face. The whole house shakes. It doesn’t even slow him, and the next thing I know, I’m sailing out of a second-floor window with Stein looking down at me as I fall.

  Luckily, there’s a small patch of lawn out front and, like every other lawn in L.A., it’s overwatered, so the ground is a little soft. Still, it’s a two-floor fall and I’m seeing stars and little chirping cartoon birds when I hit. Candy rushes over and helps me up.

  She says, “What happened?”

  “I laughed at his baby photos and he didn’t take it well.”

  “Dummy.”

  The other bad part about being tossed out of a second story by one dead prick is that other dead pricks tend to notice. The moment I’m on my feet, every specter, wraith, and phantasm on the street starts in our direction. Then Stein slides through the front wall of the tomb house. My hoodoo didn’t do much against him, but I wasn’t going full out before. Now I’m fed up with these bastards, so I pull out my Colt and start blasting with bullets dipped in Spiritus Dei. The slugs take down every ghost they hit, but I don’t have enough bullets for them all. By the time the Colt is empty, there must be a hundred dead things rushing at us. I have one last trick I can think of. Something that always works.

  I conjure a ring of flame around Candy and me and explode it out like a fire bomb in all directions. Buildings shake. Windows blow out and palm trees catch fire. Once again, exactly zero happens to the ghosts bearing down on us.

  “Do something! Something good!” shouts Candy.

  But I’m out of ideas. The dead are practically on top of us.

  From down the street comes the thud of car doors opening and closing, then the sound of squealing tires. The ghosts turn away from us and toward a Chevy SUV shooting down the street straight at us. Some jackasses who managed to hide from the spooks decide to make a break for it while the ghosts are distracted by me and Candy. It’s not a bad plan, but they’re not handling it well.

  At the last minute, the Chevy tries to steer around the spook mob—which is now running for it—but the dunce behind the wheel cuts the top-heavy SUV too hard. It runs up onto the curb, bounces a few times, and almost turns over before the driver steers too hard the other way. The Chevy fishtails for a few yards, the driver hits the brakes at exactly the wrong moment, and the SUV tips over on its side, crashing into the street.

  I grab Candy and take her through a shadow into the flying saucer house. Then, before she can say something, I go back to Little Cairo.

  I have to give the driver and passenger credit; they’re not giving up. The driver’s-side door, which is now pointing straight up, opens in a flash and a man climbs out. Hands appear a second later from inside the SUV and he reaches down to pull another guy out. But it’s no use. They’re completely surrounded by a mass of grasping spectral hands.

  My head is still a little funny, so some of the scene plays out like it’s far away. Like I’m watching a movie. I start forward, but I’m dizzy, so I’m too slow and all I can do is wonder, if the first guy didn’t stop to help the second one, would he have gotten away? Because now the ghost mob is all over them. That weird singing sound that follows them is louder than ever as they rip the two SUV guys to pieces. I can barely hear their screams. And there’s nothing I can do to help them. I’ve seen enough stuff like this in my life that I don’t want to see it again. I turn away.

  And walk right into Chris Stein, who rushes me like a goddamn black-eyed banshee. I jump into a shadow and stumble out into the living room.

  Candy stands nervously by the sofa.

  “Were you able to help them?”

  “The two guys?” It’s our first night together in I don’t know how long. What should I tell her? Do I want to leave her remembering this night as crazy excitement or blood sacrifice and carnage? Is that what I want her to always think of me? I hate lying, but I’ll admit it, I’m scared of what the truth will do to her. And us.

  “They’re okay. I got to them just in time.”

  “Oh good,” she says, and drops onto the sofa. I sit down next to her and she rests her head on my shoulder, breathing hard.

  She mumbles, “Well, that wasn’t a regular night home.”

  I look at her.

  “Please don’t tell Alessa. She’ll stab me in my sleep.”

  Candy reaches for the bourbon on the table. Takes a couple of good pulls before saying, “Are you kidding? She’d be just as mad at me. How’s your head? That was a pretty good fall.”

  “I’m still a little dizzy and my shoulder is sore, but okay.”

  She hands me the bourbon.

  I take a pull and say, “That haunting back there. It didn’t feel right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like it wasn’t an ordinary haunt. Those weren’t regular ghosts. It didn’t feel at all like the hoodoo I’m used to. Spells and hexes. It felt older. Weirder. Almost like . . .”

  “Like what?”

  “Angelic stuff.”

  “But you’re part angel. Shouldn’t you have been able to hurt them?”

  “You’d think so.”

  Candy gets up and heads to the kitchen.

  “Almost dying makes me hungry. How about you?”

  “Don’t you have to be getting back soon?”

  She stops in the kitchen door and turns.

  “Didn’t I tell you? I’m spending the night. That okay with you?”

  I look at her, waiting for a joke. But she’s serious.

  “More than okay.”

  “Cool. I’m going to make a sandwich.”

  “I’ll be in in a minute.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m still thinking about Stein.”

  “He did kick your ass pretty thoroughly.”

  “I just have this feeling that if I can figure him out, I’ll figure out the whole haunting.”

  “You do that, Gandalf. I’m going to roast beef myself. I’ll get you some too.”

  I take out my phone and call Abbot. He answers on the second ring.

  “Stark. How did things go?”

  “On a scale of one to ten, about a negative nine.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was all really interesting for a while and then one of them threw me out of a second-floor window.”

  “What? Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”

  “I’m fine. I landed on my head. By the way, nice move not mentioning that they’re bloodthirsty murder freaks.”

  “You saw the bloodstains, I take it?”

  I lower my voice so Candy won’t hear.

  “I saw them rip two people apart.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a second.

  Finally, “Tell me everything.”

  “I think your people missed some civilians. Maybe a lot of them.”

  “The crews were very thorough.”

  “If I’m right, people are going to run out of food and water and decide to make a run for it. These guys didn’t get far.”

  Abbot says, “You’re sure they’re dead?”

  “They’re in about fifty pieces all over someone’s lawn, so yeah, I’m reasonably sure.”

  “This is awful. I’ll send a crew in the morning to identify the bodies.”

  I rub my sore shoulder.

  “I should have known that if all you
r people couldn’t clear out that bunch, it wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe getting tossed out a window is what I deserved.”

  “Did you learn anything about them? Did you see any weakness?”

  “Not so much a weakness as a familiar face. You ever hear of an old movie star named Christopher Stein?”

  “No. Why is he important?”

  “I’m not sure he is. But nothing anyone has tried on them has worked. I thought that maybe going after one of them would let me figure out the rest.”

  “How can I help?”

  “Stein was murdered. I don’t remember how or when, but I bet it was in Little Cairo. Maybe if I knew more about his case it would help. Can you get me his police report?”

  “Of course. You’ll have it first thing in the morning. Is there anything else?”

  “Nothing now, but keep that doctor handy. I have a feeling this isn’t the last window I’m going to fall out of before this is over.”

  “I’ll make some calls about Stein’s report. Take my advice and go easy tonight.”

  I look at Candy in the kitchen.

  “Good advice. Talk to you later.”

  I go into the kitchen and Candy hands me a sandwich. While I’m eating it, she wanders around the apartment. I forgot that she hasn’t spent much time here. I eat and let her roam. After a couple of minutes she calls to me.

  “Stark.”

  “What?”

  “Why is there a shopping cart in your bedroom?”

  “I stole it.”

  “You’re quite the outlaw these days.”

  “I get around.”

  A minute later she comes back into the kitchen. She’s naked.

  “Are you done with that sandwich or what?”

  I drop it on the counter and we race to the bedroom. She wins because I bump into the shopping cart. When we’re both inside, she pushes me onto the bed and climbs on top.

  “If you and Janet haven’t done anything, I’m guessing it’s been over a year since you’ve been in a position like this. Think you still remember how this works?”

  “You might have to show me.”

  “That was pretty much my plan. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  I do. We spend the rest of the night breaking a lot of the furniture. She even leaps into the shopping cart and I run her around the apartment. Back in the bedroom, she jumps from the cart and lands on the pillows. We knock over the splintered furniture and punch holes in the walls until almost dawn. By the time we go to sleep we’re as wrecked as the room. I haven’t been this happy in years.

  Candy is already dressed when I wake up. She shakes me gently.

  “I have to go. If you’re too tired, I can call a cab.”

  I get up and pull on my pants and boots.

  “Of course not. I can take you home.”

  She sits on the edge of the bed as I dress. Her heart rate is up a little. She’s nervous. Wants to get home, but doesn’t want to be a jerk about it.

  As I pull on my shirt and coat she says, “Last night was a lot of fun.”

  “Even almost getting eaten by ghosts?”

  She smiles.

  “Even that.”

  I don’t look at her when I speak.

  “Are you saying ‘see you later’ or is this ‘goodbye and never going to happen again’?”

  She comes over and hugs me.

  “Never goodbye. And tonight will happen again. But not for a while. Okay? Alessa and I are still working some things out.”

  It’s not exactly the answer I was hoping for, but it’s not bad.

  “Sure. I’m glad she was willing to go along with it at all.”

  “It took a lot of talking. A lot of convincing that I wasn’t running off to be some guy’s straight wife, popping out babies and doing the dishes.”

  I frown.

  “Is that what she thinks I want from you?”

  Candy shrugs.

  “I don’t know. You’re a guy and a dangerous one. She doesn’t have the highest opinion of men in the first place.”

  I hold my hand out to her.

  “I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

  Candy smiles as I pull her into a shadow.

  We come out in the alley next to Max Overdrive. She kisses me on the cheek before heading inside.

  “I’ll call you,” she says.

  “Great, but can I ask you for a favor? Some of Chris Stein’s movies? Especially Murdering Mouth? That was his last A-list role.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  Candy is in the shop for a while. Stein was never big enough that he’d have his own section inside, so she’ll have to paw through Westerns, noir, and a few other genres. I’m tempted to light a Malediction, but after I take the pack out, I shove it back in my pocket. I don’t have too many left and I don’t want to have to go Downtown and scrounge more in the middle of a war zone.

  Last night was great, but no matter how much I wanted things to be different, I knew that Candy would leave in the morning. I just wish we’d had a chance for a cup of coffee or something. A moment of calm together before she took off. But beggars can’t be choosers, and sometimes, they’re lucky they even get to be beggars. For now, I’ll go along with the rules and timetables that whatever it is we’re doing requires.

  Instead of a cigarette, I take out one of the pills Allegra gave me and dry-swallow it. Candy comes out of the shop and hands me a plastic bag.

  “Did you take a pill just then?”

  “A Tic Tac,” I say.

  She sniffs.

  “Doesn’t smell like one.”

  I look in the bag.

  “These my movies?”

  “Yep. Keep them as long as you like. No one has checked any of them out in at least a year.”

  “Thanks. I think these will be a help.”

  “I hope so.”

  Candy looks back at the shop, then back at me, and makes a small, uncomfortable face.

  She says, “I should probably go.”

  “I’ll see you around.”

  She kisses me gently on the lips.

  “I’ll call you.”

  She heads back inside the shop, giving me a small wave before she closes the door.

  The rat carcass I found under the Hellion Hog is still lying on the ground where I kicked it. Now I feel a sudden kinship with the little bastard. He just wanted to check out the bike and now he’s as dried out as beef jerky. I find a piece of paper, pick him up by the tail, and drop him on the metal dumpster lid. I’m tempted to toss him inside and burn it. Give him a real Viking funeral. But I don’t want anyone calling the fire department and interrupting this tender moment, just me and my rodent pal. So, I just whisper a little hoodoo and he bursts into flames where he lies.

  Adios, little rat. Enjoy Valhalla. Get drunk. Break some furniture with another cute rat. Shit changes. Is gone. Maybe comes back. But it’s never the same. Try to remember and appreciate everything. Even the shitty parts.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Stark?”

  I look up and there’s Kasabian with a bag of garbage in his metal hand.

  “Oh. Hi. I’m burning a rat.”

  He blinks once.

  “Of course you are. Silly question. Get out of the way. Sane people have work to do.”

  He starts to brush the smoldering carcass off the lid and I put out a hand to stop him.

  “Hey. That’s a friend of mine.”

  “Then can you and your friend be anywhere else right now? You’re freaking me out a little.”

  “Sorry.”

  I whisper some hoodoo and the rat’s body cools. Turns to ashes and blows away. I’m a little sorry to see him go. Kasabian tosses his garbage bag in the dumpster.

  “Are you drunk?” he says.

  “Not at all.”

  He walks away down the alley.

  “Then go home and get drunk. And when you wake up, call Allegra. You need medical attention.”

  “I’m already seeing Allegra.”
/>   “Whatever pills she’s giving you, you need more.”

  Before he goes inside something pops into my brain. I don’t exactly know why, but it seems important, so I say it.

  “I’m sorry I cut your head off.”

  He stops.

  “What did you say?”

  “Really. I’m sorry I cut it off.”

  “Is . . . is that supposed to make up for anything?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because it doesn’t.”

  “To be fair, you did shoot me.”

  “You scared me. Kind of like you’re doing now.”

  “Okay. But don’t shoot this time.”

  “Fine. But maybe don’t be lurking over there when I come back out.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Goodbye, Stark.”

  “See you around.”

  “See, every time you say that it sounds like a threat.”

  “It’s not.”

  “And yet.”

  He goes inside and slams the door.

  I get out my phone and call Janet. When they—good for me, I got it right this time—don’t answer I leave a message, then step through a shadow and come out across town by Vidocq’s apartment. I knock on the door a few times and when he sees me, he ushers me in like the fancy Frenchman he was two hundred years ago. It’s always good to see him at moments like this. Vidocq is the closest thing to a real father I’ve ever had.

  The apartment is a carefully arranged mass of chaos. Vidocq is an old-school alchemist and every flat surface is covered with books or strange lab equipment. Bunsen burners. Alembics. Long swirly glass tubes full of a green, viscous something. I swear that when I get close, the bubbles are little eyes that blink at me.

  When I go to the kitchen he’s poured two cups of coffee. He looks at me and holds up a pint bottle of whiskey.

  “Isn’t it a little early?” I say.

  “Quite.”

  “Good point. Fill ’er up.”

  We sit in the living room and drink our spiked brew for a while.

  Vidocq says, “Is this just a social call or is there something special on your mind?”