The Black Death (6 page)

“Well, you’re right,” said Free. “Something in that flake makes some folks lose their shit pretty much entirely. Randy, as it turns out, was one of them. To be perfectly honest, it’s almost enough to make me want to give up the stuff altogether. That probably sounds crazy, after what you just seen, but trust me, it’s an unbelievable buzz, a real fucking gut buster.”

“I’m not much of one to turn down a good time,” said Matt, trying not to sound tired or furious with himself for getting involved in the first place, “but I also don’t want to be hopping around like some bloodthirsty bullfrog. I’ll stick to beer and grass, maybe some of the regular flake that doesn’t turn your eyes black.”

“You still pissed?”

“Less so by the minute.”

“Come get back in the van so we can get out of here,” said Free, “and not spend the rest of the night screaming at each other. After all, we still got business to take care of.”

Matt nodded at that, finished the bottle of beer, and tossed it onto the trailer’s poorly constructed porch before walking to the van and sliding the rear door open, then hopping in and shutting it after him.

“No hard feelings about that tussle back there, all right, Matt?” Free asked him in a way that assumed there was nothing wrong with stranding him weaponless to battle against a dope fiend turned monster, and in response, Matt shook his head and placed his duffel back in his lap.

“Same here,” said Danimal, who Matt could see had tears running down his cheeks. “Randy was like a brother to me, but I’m not sore that you had to put him down.”

“All that aside, Matt,” said Free, “I hope you can see why we had you do that. We didn’t want to kill him on our own. He’s a good friend, after all, and besides, we needed to know you could cover your own ass. We got to go backcountry next, and it just gets worse. It’ll be nice knowing you can watch your own back.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Well, not that the names will mean much to you,” said Free, grinning at Matt in the darkness. “We got to go pick up some more of the black skag from where we get it, and then we got to go drop it off at Sally’s. It’s a whore—”

“I know what Sally’s is,” said Matt. “Kenny filled me in on some of the details.”

“Well, old Kenny should know better than to be flapping gums at strangers, but it worked out okay this time. So what we’re going to do is pick up some dope and then drop it off.”

“Sounds simple,” said Matt.

“It’s not,” said Danimal as he put the van in reverse and began to pull away from the trailer.

Matt watched again for landmarks and gave up almost immediately. Free and Danimal had their windows rolled down, and the air was almost sickly sweet smelling, making Matt feel as though he were breathing in the stink from Free’s slowly rotting neck. As much as he normally hated the smell, it was almost a relief when Danimal lit a cigarette. At least it covered the other stench.

“We going to Bucky’s?” Danimal said it as if he already knew the answer but wanted to be talking anyway, and he looked almost offended by Free’s response.

“You want to bring a new fish to Bucky’s? Are you crazy? There’d be three new holes in them woods, and the three of us would be what was filling them up. No offense, Matt. Danny here is speaking a bit out of turn, not that it’s any of your business, of course, but we ain’t going to see Bucky. He isn’t much for new people on a good day, and these haven’t been his best days.”

“So where we headed?” Danimal asked, and Free gave him a smile before turning back to Matt, the swampy rot of his neck glistening in the moonlight.

“We’re going to Luther’s.”

“Aw, Free, you serious?”

The tone in Danimal’s voice had the hair on Matt’s neck at attention almost immediately. Danimal hadn’t been scared pulling into Randy’s, but whoever Luther was, he apparently commanded more respect than a psychopathic hophead.

“Should I be worried?” Matt asked in a tone that sounded as if he really was a little concerned, but he was as happy as could be to hear Danimal concerned. If the man kept sputtering off names, tonight could be the end of it. The phone and a who’s who list could go a long way for Sheriff Frank, as long as Matt kept his wits about him.

“Nah,” said Free, “nothing much to worry about from Luther. Danimal here’s just a might bit superstitious. Fact of the matter is, old Luther’s spot is where we always ought to be picking up the flake, especially in the sort of quantities them whores need. It’s a little bit out of the way, even for here. You want another beer?”

“Sure,” said Matt, not wanting one at all, “keep them coming. Like you said, it’s going to be a long night.”

“Damn straight,” said Free, opening a bottle for Danimal and setting it in the cup holder before passing one back to Matt and then finally getting a bottle for himself. “You just go ahead and nurse these suds. We’ll be there in no time.”

***

Luther’s place was on a road that had been cleared, paved, and then forgotten. As they pulled up to the place, Matt felt the air escape his chest between his teeth. Danimal was freaked out for a good reason.

“Here we are,” said Free. “Let’s hope he’s not too fucked up.”

Trying not to think about the last stop, Matt grabbed his bag and got a good look at the place from the van’s still-bright headlights.

Luther’s place had been a Lutheran church, but the
an
had fallen off the sign ages ago, and now the building just said Luther on the front of it. Matt wondered if that was where Luther took his name or if the sign was what had made him pick the building to squat in. The roof looked as though it had suffered some fire damage, had at least partially caved in, and had later been repaired by whatever equipment was at hand, which was not limited to boards, and appeared to include a few tree branches and ratcheting straps.

Free walked to the door as though he were more than comfortable just walking inside, but Matt couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about not only standing in the ramshackle structure, but also catching its resident unawares. Matt followed Free into the church turned home, with Danimal at his heels.

The inside of the building made the outside look like a palace. The smell of animals was omnipresent, and Matt saw several cats diving to safety as they walked through what must have once been the church’s parlor.

After passing through another door, this one heavy and made of oddly well-maintained oak, they entered what would have been the chapel of the former Lutheran church. At the still-standing dais was Luther, looking over them as if he were expecting them to walk in at exactly that moment, and on the podium was a still-smoldering glass pipe.

It took all of Matt’s power to keep walking forward as Free ran to the dais to give Luther a hug. Danimal’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to look at the fireplug of a man. Danimal was giving him a look that said,
Give it a minute
. Matt obliged and turned his attention back to the front of the church.

If Free’s neck was an indication that he was starting to rot, Luther was a very clear picture of where that was heading. Meth smoke was pouring out of his nose, mouth, empty eye socket, and several holes in his throat. The man looked as if he were falling apart. But only Matt had a true glimpse into this madness. The others couldn’t see it, at least not the way he did.

Luther talked to Free by the podium while Matt waited with Danimal by the back of the church. Matt assumed they were talking about the stranger who had been introduced to this den of insanity, and after a few moments, Luther and Free began to walk toward them. Cats bathing themselves in the row between the pews scattered at their approach, making Matt wonder if the animals could sense what was headed toward them.

“Free says you’re a stand-up dude,” said Luther, “and that’s good enough for me. You understand what you’re going to be up to?” Luther’s mouth was torn on both corners, making his brown-and-black-flecked teeth visible through tattered cheeks, the sight of it reminding Matt of a flag that had been left hanging far too long.

“Yeah, he knows we’re picking up some shit,” said Free, “and then delivering some shit, and that’s about all he needs to know. That right?”

“Yeah,” said Matt, “I’m just looking to kill some time with some down dudes while I wait for my scoot to get well. Soon as I get parts, I’m gone. Unless, of course, financial obligations force my hand to stick around for a bit.” Matt smiled at the last part and even managed to hold the grin as the three men grinned back at him.

“Well,” said Luther, “enough jibber-jawing. How much Bucky say you needed to take to Sally’s?”

When Luther mentioned Bucky, he gave Matt a sideways glance that Matt just caught. He was being tested, and instead of doing what Luther would have expected of a snitch, Matt was looking over his shoulder, at the pipe.

“We’ll get to that. You head on outside with Matt, Danimal,” said Free. “Luther and I got to discuss a couple of things.”

Matt followed Danimal outside, unable to help but wonder what in the world Free was concerned about letting him hear when he was already included in a drug deal. Matt followed Danimal to the van, and when they were back inside, he sat with his bag on his lap.

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” said Danimal from the front seat, his eyes in the rearview mirror and locked on Matt’s. “There’s a bunch of talk I don’t get to hear, neither, and I’ve known
some of these dudes my whole life. Bet yer ass I know what they’re talking about, though—Randy freaking out. That’s been happening a lot, and not always to dudes that burn all the time, sometimes to first-timers. Bucky says that everything like this has risks. I just wonder how much he’s putting on his rep. After all, once your eyes go black, you’re done. They don’t get right again.”

“Was Randy sick before?”

“No, man,” said Danimal. “He was fine, way fine. Liked to party, fuck, and fight. He was a good dude. The black just did him in.”

***

Free met them in the van a few minutes later. He had a package under his arm and looked stressed-out about something. Seeing that at least Danimal had noticed the worry on his face, Free gave them both a smile that looked almost like a wince.

“We’re going to come up here one of these times, and he’s going to be turned,” said Danimal. “I know it. Just like Randy and Big Mike and Dolan—”

“Cut the shit,” said Free in a voice that was instantly less amiable than the one he’d had in Luther’s. “Luther is doing fine. He’s always been a little off.”

“You saw where he was standing, and you know what that means,” said Danimal. “He was up there giving a little sermon, and the only reason he stopped is ’cause Bucky told him that preaching to all them cats would be bad for business if word got out. Not to mention, did you see those little fuckers run from him? If a cat knows you’re going nuts, that’s a whole new level—”

“I said cut the shit. Drive to Sally’s so we can drop off the skag and get out of there.”

“You don’t want to stop and party?”

“No. Just drive.”

Matt stayed quiet through the exchange. Whatever balance this little Redneck Mafia might have had, it was coming off the wheels, and quickly. He felt sure that Free was regretting taking him along on the trip. It had been the idea of a high man who had been brought back down to earth, and Matt had no doubt that Free was concerned about what the still-mysterious Bucky might have to say about the situation. He tried not to think about it as they crossed through more back roads, finally pulling onto a two-track that slowly turned into a field. At its center was a huge and ancient motor home, and floating in the air around it like drunken fireflies were the cherries of a dozen cigarettes.

“You can’t smoke inside,” offered Danimal as an explanation, “at least not tobacco. Buck—” A sideways look from Free changed his words, and Danimal continued. “Some of the guys don’t like the way it makes the girls smell. They say it’s bad for business.”

“Not that it much matters how they smell,” said Free, grinning, “bunch of whores barely need to be awake to show you a good time, and I’ve had myself some damn good times with some that weren’t with it at all.”

“Why the trailer?” Matt asked it in a way that he hoped wouldn’t come off as too interested, just conversation.

“So they can move it every so often,” said Free. “Keeps things that much safer.”

“How do the customers know where they’re going to be?”

“Well, either they can smell all that pussy from a distance,” said Free, “or we got something else worked out.” Danimal parked the van next to a trio of oversized pickup trucks and turned off the engine. Free patted his side and gave a look to Danimal, who returned the gesture.
They’re both packing heat.
Looking at Danimal’s face, Matt saw something else. They were nervous, too.

Free and Danimal opened their doors at the same time, and Matt was out of the van after them, unzipping his duffel so that it was open and then slinging it over his shoulder.

Free handed Danimal a package the size of a small pillow and then took a pistol from under his shirt. Watching him fumble with the snap on the holster, Matt could tell that as tough as the gun might make Free feel, he sure wasn’t all that comfortable with it. Free gave Matt a nod and said, “Let’s get to it. Matt, you pick up the rear.”

Free led them from the makeshift parking lot closer to the trailer, the dancing fires of cigarettes drawing closer, and the silhouettes of men slowly taking form around them. They must have been becoming visible, too, because the men were all separating around Free, almost dancing away from the door to the middle of the trailer as their group passed. Free swung the door open to let Danimal inside and then nodded at Matt to follow.

Matt walked inside the RV, and the stench was almost overpowering. Loud music was playing that had somehow been inaudible outside, and a man with a beer gut who was wearing a cowboy hat and holding an AR-15 stood in front of what appeared to be a bolted steel door with a slotted window cut into it.

Time seemed to freeze as Matt, Free, and Danimal stood looking at the expressionless and well-armed guard, and then the man broke into a smile that Free returned. The two hugged and then bumped fists, and Matt looked at Danimal, who, while left out of the exchange, was grinning, though small beads of sweat were collecting on his upper lip.