The Book of Death (24 page)

‘What happens now?’ JD asked him.

‘I can arrange a meeting.’

‘So do it.’

Jacko shook his head slowly and smiled. ‘Do you seriously want to end up
like me?’ he asked. ‘Wandering out here in the Graveyard for the rest of
eternity?’

JD shrugged. ‘The only downside I
can see to it is that you’d be here.’

‘You don’t change, do you?’

‘As a matter of fact I do. If I
hadn’t changed I wouldn’t be here.’

‘You were always gonna come back,
you just didn’t know it back then.’

‘Just make the introduction.’

Jacko set his guitar case down in
the road. ‘Who do you want to see?’

‘Who d’ya think?’

‘It’s not for me to say.’

‘I think I’m looking for a man in
red.’

A voice spoke out behind him. ‘I’m
right here. All you had to do was call me out.’

JD reached into his jacket and
pulled out a gun. He spun around and pointed it in the direction the voice had
come from. Stood leaning against his black V8 Interceptor was a large black man
in a red suit with a red bowler hat and a big grin across his face. His teeth
created a glare as the sun reflected off them. His eyes were yellow like the
sand in the desert.

‘How’s this work then?’ JD asked,
keeping the gun trained on the man.

The man in red held out his hand and waited for JD to take it and shake
it. What other options did he have at this point?

None
.

He slipped his gun back inside his
leather jacket. He’d come all this way to see this man to make a deal. He was
going to have to shake his hand at the very least. Looking the man in red deep in
the eyes he reached out and took his hand. The two men shook hands. It was a
firm handshake but one that JD was eager to end, so as soon as the other man
softened his grip he pulled back.

The man in red leaned back on the
car and hoisted himself up onto the hood in a comfortable sitting position with
the sun glaring over his right shoulder. ‘I’ve wanted to meet you for a long
time,’ he said. ‘Last time you were here you didn’t stay long enough for us to
get acquainted.’

‘I don’t have much time to chat this
time either. Can you help me? Or what?’

‘Of course I can. But whatever I
do for you will come at a price.’

‘If it’s my soul you’re after then
it’s all yours. I got no need for it.’

The man in red’s grin broadened.
He was a master at negotiations, particularly when the odds were stacked in his
favour. It was clear that the deal he offered would be shitty. He raised a
quizzical eyebrow and spoke. ‘JD, it may surprise you to know this, but I don’t
want your soul. You have something of far greater value to me than that.’

This wasn’t part of the script. JD
had expected him to accept the offer of his soul, but even so, he hadn’t come
all this way to walk away without accepting the terms on offer, no matter how
unreasonable they might be.

‘Just name it,’ he said.

The man in red shook his head.
‘Tell me what you want from me first. Then I’ll tell you the price.’

‘All I want is to get back to
being the man I was.’

‘The man you were last week?’

‘Yeah. I wanna go back to being a
murdering sonofabitch. You gonna make it happen? Or you gonna sit there like a
smug cunt talking cryptic bullshit?’

The man in red laughed a fake yet
hearty laugh. ‘Hahaha! I want you to be that evil sonofabitch too. You were far
more interesting back then. These days, if you don’t mind my saying, you’re a
bit dull. Something of a nonentity, by all accounts.’

‘Having a soul and a conscience will do that to a man. That shit, it
ain’t for me.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘So can you make it happen?’

The man in red sat back with both his
hands on the hood of the car. He crossed one leg over the other. Then he took
off his red hat and placed it on his lap. Underneath the hat he had a thick
head of curly black hair.

‘Of course I can make it happen,’
he said. ‘You see, you and I share a common interest.’

‘Which is?’

‘Hell dodgers.’

‘What?’

‘Hell dodgers.’

‘I heard what you said. What’s
your point?’

‘It’s the vampires. I can’t
stomach those hell dodging weasels. The werewolves too and most of all, that
fucking mummy! You know, that Rameses Gaius, he was stuck in Purgatory for
centuries until you lifted that curse on him. I really thought he was gonna be
mine one day. And I gotta tell ya, I’m still aching to have him at my table.’

‘Good for you.’

‘But Jessica, she’s the one.’ The
man in red became very animated as he spoke of Jessica. He was clearly
passionate about her in some way. ‘She’s eluded me for as long as I can
remember. And boy oh boy, there have been times when you so nearly delivered
her to me. Honestly, how she’s evaded me for so long really is nothing short of
a miracle.’

JD was surprised by the man’s
revelation, but pleased to hear it none the less. ‘So you’ll help me kill her?’
he asked.

‘I’ll give you back what you had,
and I’ll even up the odds for you,’ the man replied. ‘But I can’t help you kill
her. That’s all down to fate.’

‘Fate won’t kill her. I will.’

The man in red shook his head. ‘If
you were gonna kill her, you’d have done it already.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Just think about that when you
come face to face with her.’

‘Enough with the cryptic bullshit.
What do you want from me in return?’

From behind him JD heard Jacko
speak up. ‘It’ll be something you won’t like,’ he warned.

The man in red slipped his bowler
hat back on and slid off the hood of the car. He walked towards JD. ‘On the
contrary,’ he said, ‘it’ll be something you’ll love.’

‘So what is it?’

The man in red placed a warm hand
on JD’s shoulder. ‘All in good time,’ he said. ‘But, first of all, before I
give you what you want, I’d like a little something from you. A deposit if you
will. Non refundable, of course.’

‘Okay.’

‘Your wheels.’

JD looked at him suspiciously. ‘My
car? If I give you my car, how the hell am I gonna get back to Santa Mondega?’

‘Oh my boy, I’ll get you there
quicker than any car!’

‘Fine.’ JD reached into his pocket
and pulled out his car keys. He tossed them to the man in red. ‘I just gotta
grab a few things out of the trunk though.’

The man in red took the keys and
carried on grinning. ‘You don’t need anything from the car. Everything you
need, you’ll find down that road,’ he said pointing up at a signpost by the
crossroads. The missing signpost with its four white wooden panels pointing in
different directions was back where it belonged at the roadside. It now had a
destination painted in black lettering on the panel pointing West. It read one
word, PURGATORY.

JD turned back to the man in red.
‘What the fuck is in Purgatory?’ he asked.

‘A test of sorts,’ said the man in
red with his usual smug grin. ‘While I go and draft up a contract for you to
sign, you go pass the test.’

JD looked back down the deserted
highway. ‘Where’s the test?’ he asked.

He heard no reply. Instead he
heard the sound of a car door opening. He turned around and was dismayed to see
that the man in red was already in the driver’s seat of the black V8
Interceptor. The engine roared into life seconds later. The man in red winked
at him and revved the engine a few times before inducing a loud screeching wheelspin,
which blew up sand and dust in all directions. JD watched on as the car sped
off down the road towards the area where the Hotel Pasadena once stood.

He turned back to see Jacko behind
him. The blues man had taken his guitar out of its case. He now had the sleek
black blues guitar hanging around his shoulders, ready to play. He strummed one
note on it and began to sing.

JD reached inside his jacket and
pulled out his gun again. He pointed it at Jacko’s face. ‘Shut. The. Fuck. Up,’
he snarled.

Jacko stopped playing and pointed
up at the sign marked PURGATORY. ‘Keep walking ’til you find yourself ready to
start over.’

Twenty-Nine

With The Book of Death tucked
securely underneath his left armpit Sanchez trudged through the snow on his way
back to his squad car, which he had parked just around the corner. He’d parked
in a disabled bay even though there were spaces nearer the library. There were
far too many locals with disabled permits that they didn’t deserve, so now that
he was a police officer and could park where he liked, he’d gone straight for
the disabled zone. In hindsight it was a decision he was beginning to regret
because the air was biting cold. He couldn’t recall Santa Mondega ever being so
cold before. It was still fucking dark everywhere too. The only consolation was
that with the streetlights on and the snow settled on the ground, the place did
look quite festive for once. Not that Sanchez was a fan of Christmas. It just
gave more people an excuse to beg for money or badger him in the street to
donate to the homeless who apparently suffer worse than usual in the holiday
season. Sanchez couldn’t see quite how, because they seemed to get free stuff
all year round and at Christmas they just got more. It still rankled with him
that the tramps could get free soup at the local homeless shelter, yet he was
only allowed to smell it from afar.

This morning’s soup was chicken
flavour, judging by the inviting aroma coming from the polystyrene cup that a
tramp sitting at the corner of the street was sipping from. He was an old guy
in a tattered green raincoat and a pair of torn grey pants. He had no shoes
either, just thick grey socks with holes where his toes poked through them.
Sanchez pretended not to see him in the hopes that he could make it past
without being harassed for any money. As he walked past him though, the tramp
looked up.

‘Spare some change officer?’ he
asked. ‘For a cup of coffee.’

‘Sorry, haven’t got any.’

The tramp reached out with one
hand and grabbed hold of a handful of cloth on Sanchez’s pants. He tugged at
them, causing Sanchez to almost lose his footing. He had a pretty tight grip
for an old guy too. Sanchez tried to shake him off in the same manner that he
would have shaken off a randy dog trying to hump his leg, but this old fucker
wasn’t going to let go without a struggle.

‘Listen stinky,’ Sanchez
snapped. ‘If you don’t let go of my leg, I’ll arrest you and have you charged
with vagrancy!’

The tramp ignored the threat. ‘I
just need enough for a cup of coffee. I’m freezing to death out here. You
wouldn’t want an old man to freeze to death, would you?’

Sanchez sighed. He reached into
one of the front pockets on his pants to see if he had any change. He had
plenty, but also in that particular pocket he had a Zippo lighter and the page
he had ripped from The Book of Death. That page needed to be destroyed at some
point, so Sanchez had an idea.

‘I’ve got something that will
warm you up,’ he said.

The tramp’s grey sullen eyes
suddenly lit up and he let go of Sanchez’s pants, looking up at him like an
excited puppy waiting for a treat. Sanchez grabbed his Zippo and pulled it out
from his pocket. He held it up in front of the tramp’s unwashed but excited
looking face and flipped it open. A sizeable flame lit up in the gloomy air.
The tramp still looked eager, hoping maybe that he was about to receive the
lighter, which was worth a few bucks. Alas, Sanchez pulled out the page he had
ripped from The Book of Death. He uncrumpled it as best he could, while still trying
to keep the book tucked tightly under his arm. The tramp frowned, no doubt
wondering what he was doing. Once the page was as flat as he could get it,
Sanchez held it up and dipped the bottom of it into the flame on his lighter.
The page lit up immediately and the flame began racing upwards.

‘Here,’ said Sanchez, holding
the burning paper out to the tramp. ‘This will keep you warm.’

The tramp pulled his
outstretched hand away and balked at the offer.

‘It’s all I have,’ said Sanchez placing
the burning page down on the ground at the tramp’s feet. The tramp scowled but
then held his bony white hands out over the flickering flame in the hopes of
getting some warmth from it.

‘Tight ass,’ he muttered.

‘Thank you,’ said Sanchez,
pleased to hear the words tight ass instead of fat ass for once. He closed the
lighter, slipped it back in his pocket and carried on his way, turning the
corner and heading towards his car, safe in the knowledge that his good deed
for the year was done.

As he was strutting down the
street, he was suddenly hit on the side of the face by something cold. It
exploded into his hair and all over the side of his face, splashing water into
his eyes. And it made his ear feel numb from the cold.