City of Heretics by Heath Lowrance Page A

excruciating pain. Now I know.”  Then, “Looks like you didn’t come out so well, either.”
    “You remember much about what happened?”
    He sighed and adjusted his shoulders against the pillows. “Yeah, I think so. Big-ass truck outta nowhere. A bunch of weird cats with guns and what-not. I remember… I remember a guy wearing some metal shit over his face. And... there was some Goth kid, I think. They… they got D-Lux, didn’t they?”
    Crowe nodded.
    “What the fuck?” Chester said, echoing his sentiments from that day. “What… who the hell were those fellas?”
    “Don’t know. But Vitower was here yesterday, and he wants me to find out. They sprung Murke.”
    “No shit.”
    “I’m heading back to Memphis tonight, and tomorrow morning I start asking around.”
    Chester frowned. “Asking around where?  The Crazy-Ass Freako Killer Society?”  He laughed at his own joke, but the exertion of it made him groan and wince. He slid down farther under the blankets. “Oh,” he said. “Ah, shit. I ain’t gonna lie to you, this hurts like a bitch.”
    Crowe studied him for a moment, thinking about how easy it would be to kill him, right here and now. Just grab one of his pillows, push it over his face, and hold it there for a few minutes. He was far too weak to be able to do anything about it.
    “Earth to Crowe,” Chester said. “You’re looking at me kinda funny.”
    Crowe gazed back out the window. “Million miles away,” he said.
    “Yeah?  Well, I hope the mattresses are softer wherever you are.”
    They were dangerously close to small talk, so Crowe said, “I’ll see you around, Chester,” and headed for the door.
    Chester said, “Yeah, okay, I’ll see ya,” and then, “Hey, Crowe.”
    Crowe stopped and looked at him.
    He said, “Listen, there’s something I been meaning to say to you.”
    “Yeah?”
    He shifted painfully under his blankets. “Well, see. It’s like this. It’s about when you got sent up.”
    “What about it?”
    “I just wanted to tell you, you know. I mean, I know what you must’ve thought, what with the Old Man not doing anything to help.”
    Crowe said, “That was a long time ago.”
    “Yeah, but I think you should know. There wasn’t anything I could do, you know what I mean?  He was… pissed, right?  Pissed that you killed Leon. And the cops had Leon just about cold on a lot of stuff that the Old Man didn’t wanna be involved in.”
    Crowe didn’t say anything, just watched him and tried to keep the coldness out of his face.
    Chester said, “I reckon you felt… I don’t know. Betrayed?  But the Old Man had to think about the organization, you know?”
    Every word he said was another layer of ice in the pit of Crowe’s stomach. Crowe had ideas back then, ideas about loyalty. Ideas about professionalism that almost bordered on sacred. He knew better now, but that didn’t stop Chester’s little speech from filling him with a sort of ebbing fury.
    He took it in hand and said, “Some reason you’re telling me all this?”
    “Well. I’m thinking about giving it all up. I’m thinking about telling Vitower I’m done. I got some money saved up, you know, and I was thinking about going into business for myself. I mean, a legit business.”
    “Like what?”
    He said, “Heating and cooling. I took a class, you know, and I can fix shit. I’m pretty good at it.”
    “Heating and cooling,” Crowe said.
    “Yeah. I mean, just a normal kind of life. I got a kid now. I gotta think about the future. And this whole mess, well… we kinda cut it a little close, don’t you think?”
    Crowe said, “You finished?”
    Chester frowned. “Yeah, I’m finished. I just wanted to tell you that. I don’t know why. Never mind.”
    Crowe nodded and said, “Okay. Be seeing you,” and left the room.
     

Faith was drunk when he showed up. She let him in when he knocked, looked at him blankly for a long moment while he eased into the sofa, and with a voice only