And then he was following the Sheep down an incline and around a bend. And the walls were widening considerably. And light began to emanate from someplace up ahead. The Sheep turned off his lantern and waited for Sweeney to come level.
“Admit it,” the Sheep said. “You had your doubts.”
Sweeney didn’t know how to answer that. The Sheep took him by the arm and led him to a spacious mouth that emptied onto sand and rock and scrub. They stepped out into the air and Sweeney looked up at the sun and guessed that about an hour had gone by.
“Makes you appreciate the open,” the Sheep said, “doesn’t it?”
Sweeney nodded.
“What’s that song?” the Sheep said. “You know that song? Been through the desert of night. .”
Sweeney shrugged.
“. . Now it’s time for the wine and the friends.”
“Never heard it,” Sweeney said.
The Sheep smiled and handed off the lantern. “It’s a good one. But what I’m saying is, everything gets better from here on in.”
He walked about twenty yards and Sweeney thought he was looking for a place to take a piss. Instead, he pulled a bike from beneath a pile of bramble and walked it back to the mouth of the cave. The machine looked too big for its rider but the Sheep had no problem kicking it over.
He goosed the engine and motioned for Sweeney to climb on.
22
Sweeney hugged the lantern to his side and held onto the Sheep with his free arm as the Abomination opened up the hog. The speed might have alarmed Sweeney if the rush of cold air hadn’t felt so good. As if it were washing away all the grit from the cave.
They came upon the Harmony from the rear, pulling into the ruins of the old crematorium where the Abominations had played King of the Hill atop the dilapidated hearse. The Sheep killed the engine and climbed off the bike. Sweeney followed him to the antique funeral car where the Sheep reached through the passenger window, popped the glove box open, and extracted a pack of cigarettes.
The Sheep moved back around to the front of the hearse, eased himself onto its hood, and lit up a smoke. Sweeney joined him and they sat silently and rested for a few minutes, staring out at the prosthetics mill as if mulling a night on the late shift.
After a few minutes of this, Sweeney said, “Why are we stopping? You’re almost home.”
“I got to prepare myself,” the Sheep said, “before I can jump back into the crowd. It’s not that easy a transition for me. To go from the solitude back to the noise of the tribe. I can’t rush right back in.”
Sweeney looked out at the monstrosity they called Gehenna. In the distance, he could see a couple of Abominations sitting on the loading dock and someone was working on his bike down in the gravel lot.
“We had some good times in this city,” the Sheep said. “Personally, I’m gonna hate leavin’ here.”
Sweeney turned toward him.
“You’re leaving?”
The Sheep nodded.
“If things work out,” he said. “We’ll be movin’ on next week.”
“Where to?” Sweeney asked.
The Sheep grimaced as if this were a painful subject.
“Not sure yet,” he said. “Buzz has one idea. Nadia has another. But it’ll get worked out. We’ll know when we need to know. Buzz says we shouldn’t try to think ahead so much. You kill all the spontaneity in life.”
“Can I ask,” Sweeney said, “how you met Buzz?”
“Sure you can ask,” the Sheep said and then threw an elbow to show he was just kidding. “No, it’s all right. It’s a good story. They found me in Phoenix. And let me tell you, I was not in the best of shape, okay? I was not doing very well. I’d burned through all my money and I’d fallen in with some bad people. These were not good people. But, you know, it’s just like that song—When the sinner is ready, the savior comes along.”
He saw the blank look on Sweeney’s face and said, “You’re not a big gospel fan, are you?”
Sweeney shook his head and the Sheep said, “Well I hope you don’t mind, cuz I listen to gospel while I work.”
“Speaking of work,” Sweeney said, and before he could go on, the Sheep had both hands in the air, revival style.
“I know, I know,” he said, “that’s the million-dollar question. How did a chemistry Ph.D. from Stanford end up riding with the Abominations? I get the curiosity, I do. Sometimes I say to Nadia, my life’d be a hell of a movie. But I don’t say it to Buzz. You don’t even kid about stuff like that with Buzz.”
“So how’d it happen?”
“How’s anything happen?” the Sheep said, going all weary and mystical in an instant. “You make a couple of mistakes and, bang, you find out you’re not who you thought you were. You find out the world isn’t what you thought it was. You find out you don’t want any of the shit everyone’s been telling you to want since the day you were born.
“What happened with me,” confidential now, “was I had a full-blown textbook breakdown. I mean I was fuckin’ catatonic for months. Now I’m healed enough, at this point, to face the facts and take the responsibility. But the truth is — and I don’t mean this as any kind of excuse — I had a real asshole for an old man. One of these you-just-can’t-please-’em sons a bitches. And I tried to sort of follow in his footsteps and I couldn’t do it. And the pressure got so bad, my brain just shut the fuck down one day. And I ended up in the psych ward at Ford-Masterson out there. And I’ll tell you somethin’ right now. Wasn’t for Buzz and the boys, I’d still be there. Eatin’ poached eggs and starin’ at The Price Is Right all day.”
“How’d Buzz get you out?” Sweeney asked.
The Sheep gave him a look that said even Sweeney should know better.
“There’s something Buzz wants, Buzz finds a way to get it.”
“I guess what I’m asking,” said Sweeney, “is how he found out about you. I mean, you’re institutionalized at this point. How did he know about you? What was the connection?”
The Sheep squinted at him and Sweeney sensed some real disappointment.
“The connection,” said the Sheep, in a slowed down voice, as if he were speaking to a child, “is your new girlfriend.”
“Nadia?”
“Of course Nadia,” the Sheep said. “It’s always Nadia. I mean, c’mon, Sweeney, huh? She’s a sweetheart. And she’s got a body that’d make Jesus weep. But she’s a born pimp.”
“I’m sorry,” Sweeney said. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Nadia,” the Sheep said, “is a procurer. I mean Buzz might be Moses, but your girl Nadia, she’s the burning bush. Hey, I like that. Burning bush. That works, doesn’t it?”
He saw the confused look on Sweeney’s face and took pity.
“Look, if you’re asking me how it all started, I can’t help you. I came in late. But at some point Buzz met Nadia. Or Nadia met Buzz. And that’s where the thing really begins. You look at us now, okay, and you can say what you want. We don’t much care, you know? We’re nomads. We’re a tribe in the desert. That’s how we see ourselves. You want to say we’re vampires, we’re parasites, well, those’re just words. We know the truth. We’re as much family as those scumbags that run the Clinic. We’re as much family as you and your boy. That’s the truth. And the truth sets you free, every time. You’ll find that out real soon, Sweeney.”
Sweeney tried to pull him back.
“You called Nadia a pimp,” he said.
The Sheep crushed out his cigarette on the fender of the hearse.
“It’s a metaphor,” he said. “Jesus Christ. You know what a metaphor is? I’m not insulting her. In fact — and I think the rest’d tell you the same thing if they had the balls — we’re a matriarchy. That’s what we really are. She lets Buzz think he’s the big bad dad. But the truth is we follow where Nadia leads. All the way to the last clinic. She’s got the plans. She’s the one who’s brought us to this point. And I’ll tell you, she’s gonna bring us across the border. Whether Buzz likes it or not.”