UnSouled

The man’s already given him some basic lessons, just in the course of conversation.

“Most AWOL Unwinds are smarter than the Juvenile Authority gives them credit for,” Nelson had said. “You set a stupid trap, and all you’ll get are stupid AWOLs. Worth a lot less on the black market. If the brain scan shows a high cortical score, you can double your money.”

So much to know about the art of entrapment!

While last night was a cheap motel, tonight in Pittsburgh, Nelson treats them to a two-bedroom suite in a fancy-schmancy place with doormen and half a dozen flags over the entrance.

“Tonight we indulge,” Nelson tells him. “Because we owe it to ourselves.”

If this is the life of a parts pirate, Argent’s ready to go all in.

The suite is huge and smells of fresh flowers instead of mildew. Argent orders expensively from the room service menu, and Nelson doesn’t bat an eye.

“Nothing’s too good for my apprentice,” he says, and raises his wineglass to emphasize the point. His own father was never so generous, either in wallet or in spirit. Nelson’s breathing seems labored. The good side of his face is taking on a pale sheen. Argent doesn’t think anything of it; right now Argent is all about his T-bone steak.

As their meal winds down, Argent drops his guard and Nelson begins to talk casually of the days ahead.

“New York’s a great town,” Nelson says. “Have you ever been?”

Argent shakes his head and swallows before he speaks, so as not to appear too uncultured for a room service meal. “Never. Always wanted to go, though. When our parents were alive, they used to say they’d take us to New York. See the Empire State Building. A Broadway show. Promised us the world, but we never went anywhere but Branson, Missouri.” He takes another bite of steak, imagining the food will be even better in the Big Apple. “I swore to myself I’d go there someday. Swore I’d make it happen.”

“And so you did.” Nelson wipes his mouth with a silk napkin. “We’ll have to make time for some sightseeing while we’re there.”

Argent grins. “That’d be sweet.”

“Sure.” Nelson smiles kindly. “Times Square, Central Park . . .”

“Heard about this club in an old factory,” Argent says, nearly frothing at the mouth with excitement. “A different famous band plays there every night, but you never know who it’s go

“Did you hear about that on TV?” Nelson asks. “Like the House of Voodoo?”

It takes a moment to settle, bouncing around Argent’s mind like a pinball until it drops dead center. Game over.

When he looks up at Nelson, there is nothing kind about his smile. It’s more predatory. Like a tiger anticipating its kill.

“Lassiter never said anything about Mary LaVeau or ‘the green lady,’ did he?”

“I . . . I was go

“When? Before or after you got your all-expense-paid tour of New York?” Suddenly he flips the table. Di

“Did you say anything that wasn’t a lie?” He presses the knife harder against his neck. “I’ll know if you’re lying now.”

Argent knows the truth won’t help him, so he avoids the question. “If you kill me, there’ll be a lot of blood,” he says desperately. “And you wouldn’t have fed me if you really meant to kill me!”

“Every man deserves a last meal.” His presses the knife harder, drawing a bead of blood.

“Wait!” Argent hisses, pulling out the only ace he has to play. “There’s a tracking chip!”

“What are you talking about?”

“My sister! When she was little she always used to wander off, so my parents had them put this tracking chip in her skin behind her ear. If she’s still with Lassiter, we can find them. But I’m the only one who knows the chip’s tracking code. Kill me and the code dies with me.”

“You son of a bitch. You knew about that chip all along!”

“If I told you, you’d have no use for me!”

“I have no use for you now!” He drops the knife and uses his bare hand to close off Argent’s windpipe. No blood. No mess. “Now that I know, I can find that code without you.” Argent tries to fight him off, figuring he’ll lose and that this is the end—but to Argent’s surprise, he’s stronger than Nelson. In fact, the man seems uncharacteristically weak. He pushes Nelson off, and Nelson stumbles, falling to one knee.

“Stay still and let me kill you!” Nelson says.

Argent grabs the knife from the ground, ready to defend himself. But Nelson doesn’t come after him. His eyes roll. His lids flutter. He tries to stand, but falls again, this time on all fours.

“Damn it!”

Then his elbows give way, and he lands facedown on the carpet, as unconscious as if he’d been tranq’d.

Argent waits a moment. Then a moment more.

“Hey. You alive?”

Nothing. He reaches down to feel Nelson’s neck. There’s a pulse, rapid and strong—but he’s hot. Really hot.

Argent can run. He can just take off and get the hell out of this situation . . . but he hesitates and stares at the unconscious parts pirate on the floor before him. He lets the pinball bounce around in his head a bit, then puts the knife gently down on the mantel. The ball is still in play, and there are plenty of points left to be scored.

44 • Nelson

When he regains consciousness, it takes him a few moments to realize where he is. The OmniWilliam Pe

The TV in his bedroom plays an action movie at low volume. The waste-of-life grocery checker sits there watching it while eating room service French fries. He turns to Nelson and, seeing he’s awake, pulls his chair over.

“Feeling better?”

Nelson doesn’t dignify him with a response.

“This hotel’s so fancy, they got a doctor on call,” Argent says. “Had him come to check you out. Don’t worry. I cleaned up the mess before he got here and put you all snug in the bed. You talked to him a little. You remember talking to him?”

Nelson still refuses to say a thing.

“Nah, didn’t think you would. You mumbled crazy crap about a graveyard and a tornado. The doctor said those bites you got on your arms and legs—whatever they are—they’re infected. He gave you a shot of antibiotics. Tried to convince me to take you to the emergency room, but I paid him cash and he shut up about it. I got it from your wallet. Hope you don’t mind under the circumstances. Didn’t cheat ya or anything. There’s a receipt. From the pharmacy too, on accounta I filled the prescription for more antibiotics. Take three times a day, with meals.”

Nelson is like a boulder in this stream of words. He gets some of it; the rest just flows past.

“What are you doing here?” Nelson finally asks.

“Couldn’t just leave you on the floor to die, could I? We’re a team. Right half, left half, and all.”

“Get out of my sight.”

When Argent doesn’t move. Nelson turns his head to look the other way. Moving his head just the slightest bit makes him feel like he’s on a carnival ride.

“I don’t blame you for being pissed at me,” Argent says. “And maybe you woulda killed me and maybe not. But if I’m go

Nelson forces himself to look at Argent again. “What universe do you think you’re living in?”

“Same as you,” Argent says. He looks at the label of the pill vial and puts it on the nightstand, pointedly out of Nelson’s reach. “Whether you like it or not, you need me right now. As long as you need me, you won’t get rid of me. You might even teach me a thing or two about being a parts pirate. One hand washes the other, as they say. And both our hands are kind of dirty. So I stay, and we both get what we need.”