not be able or willing to help them. She’d seen the tightening of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, the telltale signs of the rage in him fighting its way to the surface. For a moment, she’d been afraid he was actually going to try and beat the information he’d wanted out of Delgado. Then he’d brought it under control. But she wondered if he’d be able to do it the next time. She wondered what she’d awakened when she’d brought him out of the desert.
The elevator arrived, and they stepped in together. “So,” she said, trying to sound casual, “it may be tomorrow before we know anything from Delgado. We should probably get some rest.”
“Yeah,” Keller said. “But I need to make a stop first.” He glanced at her, then gave her a longer look. His voice softened. “You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but she felt the weight of the long and sleepless hours on her. Her legs ached, and her eyes felt raw, red, and full of sand.
“Lucas should have found us a hotel by now,” Keller said. “Call him. Then you go rest.”
“What are you going to do?” she said.
“I may need some things,” he said.
“Like guns.”
“You heard Delgado,” Keller said. “We may be dealing with some pretty sketchy people soon. I want to be…” He stopped as he saw the look on her face. “What?”
She shook her head. Her shoulders sagged. “I want you to go home, Jack. Back to that bar, and that job, and that nice girl who’s falling in love with you. Go be boring. And be happy.”
The elevator had reached the ground floor. The doors opened onto the lobby, all glass and concrete and well-tended plants. Neither of them moved. “What the hell brought that on?”
“The way you reacted when that lawyer looked like he was trying to stonewall us. The look on your face when you talked about arming yourself so you could go deal with, as you put it, ‘sketchy people.’”
“And how was that?”
The door started to close. Angela stepped out, with Keller following. They stood in the lobby of the office building, the flow of people parting around them in their way to the elevators. “Jack, tell me how you feel. Right now.”
He smiled. “Now you sound like Lucas.”
“I’m serious. Tell me.”
“I feel fine, Angela.”
“Just fine?” His brow furrowed for a moment. He’s so beautiful. The sudden feeling pierced Angela like a dart.
“I feel good,” he said. “I feel…great.”
“You’re as alive as I’ve seen you since you walked into that bar,” she said wearily, “because you’re hunting again.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So that’s not the path you need to be taking. You took that way out of the desert once, and it nearly destroyed you. I feel like if you go that way again…I’m afraid of what might happen to you. You’re an addict, and I’m giving you the needle again.”
“Look,” Keller said, his voice rising. “You looked me up, okay? You came to me. If you didn’t want me to—”
“Hey,” a voice said. They turned to see Lucas Berry walking their way. He stopped and regarded them for a moment. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” Keller said. “I was just telling Angela she needed to get some rest.”
“We all could stand a good night’s sleep,” Lucas said. “I for one am jet-lagged to hell and back. What did the lawyer tell you?”
“He apparently sent Oscar on to some other people,” Keller said. “Not exactly legal.”
Lucas nodded. “Smugglers? Coyotes, I think they’re called.”
“Yeah,” Keller said. “And he’s going to see if they’ll talk to us.”
“In the meantime,” Angela said, “Jack wants guns.”
“Ah,” Lucas said.
Keller sighed. “I know what that ‘ah’ means.”
Lucas shook his head. “You always read too much into it. Whatever. I suggest we table the issue of guns, have an early dinner, and get our heads down for a few hours of sleep. We’ve got a lot of miles to go.” He saw the look on Keller’s face. “You have to eat, Jack,” he said. “And sleep. Tired men make stupid mistakes.”
Keller sighed. “Okay,” he said. “But after dinner—”
“Sleep,” Lucas said firmly.
DELGADO WAS standing at the window, talking into the Bluetooth headset that allowed him to move freely while talking on the phone. “A man was here,” his voice was steady; only the way he drummed his fingers on the window betrayed his agitation, “looking for Sanchez. Or whatever the hell his name was.” He listened for a moment. “Yes. Keller. That was it. So Sanchez told you about him, too?” Another pause as he listened. “What the hell happened out there?” Delgado demanded.
THE MOUNTAIN was burning.
The acrid smoke filled Keller’s eyes and nose, choking him. It was redolent with the sweet aromas of pines and fir, but underneath was the ever-present reek of burning flesh. He looked up into a sky with no sun, no stars, only the smoke flowing and writhing above him as if it were a living thing. Black birds whirled and dipped through the clouds, cawing in harsh rusty voices. He looked down to see a group of figures surrounding him, each with a hand raised and a finger pointing accusingly. They were burning as well, their flesh blackening and melting away as the flame wrapped around them. He saw Marie, the woman he’d loved, her son Ben clutching his mother’s leg as the fire devoured them both. He saw DeGroot, the man he’d shot in cold blood, kneeling a few feet to her right. On his face was a mocking grin that slowly dissolved, the fat sizzling and popping as the flesh melted, revealing the equally mocking grin of the skull beneath. He saw Lisa, the young Hmong girl who’d tried to help him. She was looking at him with the same expression of shock she’d worn when the sniper’s bullet had taken her. Behind her was the man who’d killed her. He was the only one not burning. His face was covered with the camo mask that was all Keller had ever seen of him. He stepped forward, seeming to pass through Lisa’s body as she fell apart into ash and blackened bone.
You bring death, the man said, and hell follows with you.
“That was wrong,” Keller thought. It had been Harland, Lisa’s adoptive father, who’d made that accusation. It didn’t make it any less true. “I know,” he whispered.
“KNOW,” one of the birds above him called down in its derisive, croaking voice. The others took up the call. “KNOW. KNOW. KNOW.”
“Jack,” a voice said.
“No,” Keller moaned. “No. No.”
“JACK!”
Keller’s eyes opened. Lucas Berry was bending over him. “Jack,” he said again. “Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
Keller sat up slowly. “I’m…” he said, then took a deep breath.”I’m awake.” He looked around to get his bearings. He was in a hotel room. He was lying in one of the beds.
The other was unmade, and Lucas sat down on it. He was clad only in a pair of plaid boxer shorts. “Bad dream,” he said.
Keller ran his hands over his face. “Yeah.”
“Tell me about it.”
Keller