The Resurrectionist

30

Sweeney rode to the Harmony on the back of Nadia’s bike, one hand around the nurse’s waist, the other cupping his own shirt pocket, making sure the newt was secure. And as the wooded hills surrounding the Clinic gave way to the city, he felt Rene begin to move. Felt the tiny, damp feet raking down softly over the heart.

They rolled at an even speed past the foundries and the chemical plants, past acres of ghostly housing projects and antique tenements long gone dark. Eventually, they cut into the city proper and made for downtown, a Mardi Gras in perpetual decay, this crowded hive of clubs and bars, noodle dens and arcades, strip joints and chapels of the apocalypse, all of them announced in red and blue neon. To Sweeney it looked like the last nightmare. And it smelled like a third world circus — sweet and rancid and toxic.

They approached the Harmony from the rear, through the blocks of ruined brick and stone. Halfway across the lot, they could make out Buzz, sitting alone in the rocking chair on the loading dock, waiting like some sea captain’s wife. Nadia parked the bike and killed the engine. They dismounted and climbed up onto the apron.

Buzz didn’t say a word and Sweeney sat down on the rail, blocking his view of the ruins. Nadia went inside the factory without speaking and after a minute they could hear her running water in the cafeteria.

Buzz looked as if he were staring through Sweeney, still focusing on the broken bricks in the distance.

“I’m not a solitary person, usually,” Buzz said and it sounded as if he were speaking to himself. “I like people around. I was alone a lot, growing up.”

Sweeney didn’t think the biker was looking for a comment, so he kept quiet.

“The thing is,” Buzz continued, “sometimes, when you really need to think, there’s no substitute for solitude.”

Sweeney allowed himself a nod.

“The boys are off on a run,” Buzz said. “And I don’t mind telling you, I miss every one of those fuckers already.”

“I’m sure you do,” Sweeney said, not rushing anything. Letting Buzz Cote do this in his own way and time.

“They drive me bugfuck. They really do, sometimes. But I’m like any parent. I’d be lost without them. And I like to think they feel the same way about me.”

“You’re a family,” Sweeney said and when Buzz’s eyes focused in on him for the first time, he knew he’d chosen the perfect word.

“I’ve been sitting out here for hours,” Buzz said. “I haven’t moved a fucking muscle. I been sitting here trying to figure out what it was you were gonna do. And I was trying to decide what I was gonna do once you made your decision.”

Sweeney took in air through his nose.

“I know sometimes I might seem erratic,” Buzz said. “Maybe even weak. But I’m neither one. I’m focused. It’s about being willing to become anything and everything to get what you need. To get what your family needs. To go hard or soft. Be sweet or sour. Eyes on the prize. Every fucking second.”

“It’s not easy,” Sweeney said, “being a father.”

“And I hope you understand how much I appreciate that.”

“The thing is,” Sweeney said, “I honestly do. I believe you get it.”

Buzz leaned sideways just a little.

“It changes you,” he said. “And not just in the ways you’d expect.”

Sweeney’s throat was dry. He wished Nadia would bring out a bottle.

“It’s about sacrifice,” Sweeney said. “To do the job right, you have to give up parts of yourself.”

“Fuck, yes,” Buzz said. “I swear to you, I’m not the man I used to be.”

“You’d give an arm and a leg,” Sweeney said, “to keep your child from getting lost. You’d give whatever was necessary.”

“You’d walk through fire,” Buzz said. “You’d kick God in the balls.”

“You’d give up your own life,” Sweeney said, “in a second. No hesitation.”

“No thinking at all,” Buzz said, “because that’s who you become.”

“But sometimes,” Sweeney said, “the kid gets lost anyway. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

Buzz went quiet for several seconds. When he spoke again, his voice sounded edgier, on the verge of impatient and heading into angry.

“That,” he said, “is where we disagree in a major fucking way.”

Sweeney didn’t say anything.

“You can always find him,” Buzz said. “And you can always forgive him for getting lost in the first place. Always.”

“The chicken boy tried to tell me the same thing.”

“It was Danny,” Buzz yelled, his voice suddenly loud enough to echo off the ruins.

He got up out of the rocking chair and joined Sweeney on the rail. The light on the dock was muddy and half of the biker’s face was in shadow.

“Jesus Christ, Sweeney, I have tried to be patient. But you don’t have an ounce of fucking faith. I gave you a goddamn chance to be with your boy for the first time in a year. And you come back the same zombie as when you left.”

“I’m just not sure it was Danny—”

“Of course it was Danny,” coming forward off the rail now and leaning down into Sweeney. “Who else you think it was?”

“I’m saying I’m not sure it was real.”

“It was as real as it gets,” Buzz yelled, raising an arm as if ready to backhand the pharmacist. But he caught himself and froze, took a breath, and made himself ease the arm to his side. He tipped his head back, rubbed his forehead, pushed out some air, lowered his voice, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m just running out of time here. I want to do this the easy way. The way that’s right for everyone involved. I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone — me and my people and you and your boy. But you’re making it awfully fucking difficult for me, Sweeney.”

“Think of it from my point of view—” Sweeney began and Buzz said, “I’m doing exactly that.”

But Sweeney pushed on with his words.

“In a single night, I lost everything. I’ve been living in a nightmare for a year. Now you and Peck both come along. And both of you start telling me I can wake up from the nightmare. Only Peck says he can bring Danny back into my world—”

“Peck is a lying sack of shit.”

“—and you tell me you can bring me into Danny’s world.”

“And I proved it. We took you into Limbo. We let you talk to your boy. And he told you what to do, didn’t he?”

“Someone,” Sweeney said, “or something told me what to do. But he didn’t tell me how to do it.”

“You leap,” Buzz said, on the verge of pleading now, the conversion so close he could feel it. “You take the fucking leap. You decide to believe. And you become one of us. There’s a family waiting for you here, Sweeney. Me and Nadia and all of the boys. We’ll take care of you and we’ll take care of Danny. And, in turn, you’ll take care of us. That’s the way family works. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Sweeney. This is the way out of the nightmare, son. This is the way out of the grave.”

“You can’t imagine how much I want to believe you.”

Buzz put a hand out into the dark air before him.

“Then do it,” he said. “I’m standing right here waiting for you. Let go and fucking leap.”

They stared at each other. No sound but the wind and their own breathing. White clouds of mist floated out from their mouths and nostrils.

Sweeney moved first. He reached a hand deep into his right pants pocket and slowly pulled out a glass vial filled to the top with a murky pink liquid. He held it up between their faces and then brought it down and placed it in Buzz’s enormous hand.

Buzz’s whole body gave up a single tremor. Sweeney saw the biker’s chest heave and heard his respiration catch for a second. Then fingers closed over Sweeney’s hand and the vial. And then the biker pulled the pharmacist into a long bear hug that ended only when Nadia came out onto the dock carrying a cocktail tray.

Sweeney and Buzz unclenched and turned to the woman. With one hand, Buzz lifted from the tray an uncapped bottle of bourbon and with the other he picked up two syringes. He leaned over and kissed Nadia on the brow, passed the bottle to Sweeney, and said, “Mother, the prodigal has returned.”

Sweeney took the bottle, brought it to his lips, and guzzled. He handed the bottle back and said, “What would you have done if I’d walked away?”

Buzz smiled and raised the bottle and closed both eyes for a second while he took a long drink.

“I’m a father,” he said, “I would’ve done whatever was necessary.”

Nadia rested the tray on the dock rail, stepped into Sweeney, laid a hand on his shoulder, and kissed him on the cheek.

“You made the right choice,” she said. “You’ll see.”

Buzz took another hit off the bottle and passed it back to Sweeney, then he slung an arm around Sweeney’s and Nadia’s necks, pulled both into him, released them just enough so that they could walk as a threesome back inside the factory.

Lit candles were on several of the lunch tables in the cafeteria and they gave the room a warm glow that hid much of its dinginess.

“The boys won’t be back till morning,” Buzz said, lowering himself into a Buddha posture in the center of the room and slapping the floor next to him, indicating that Sweeney should do the same. “I wanted the two of us to journey out together this time. We’ll go give Danny the word. Together. I can’t wait to see his face.”

He handed the spikes back to Nadia and began to roll up a sleeve. “The Sheep cooked up this last batch for me before he left. But with the new meat you brought tonight, there’ll be enough for everybody when they get home tomorrow.”

Sweeney pushed up his sleeves and put a hand on Buzz’s arm.

“You’ll let me talk to Danny first?” he said. “There are some things I’ve got to say.”

“When are you gonna realize,” Buzz said, “that I understand.”

“I know you do, Buzz,” Sweeney said and then looked up to Nadia and nodded.

She got down on her knees between the two men. The candles lit up her face. She took Sweeney’s arm in her hands, lifted it, and brought her mouth down to the inside crook and kissed the skin. Then she found the vein she wanted, plunged the needle in, and thumbed the soup home.

The puncture bled a little when she removed the spike. Sweeney looked from Nadia to Buzz and back. Then his head snapped back and he sucked in a fast lungful of air and keeled backward. He stared up at the ceiling, his mouth open a little, his jaw slack, his eyes unfocused, and one foot twitching at the end of his leg.

Buzz looked down on him approvingly.

“Let’s go, darlin’,” he said and held out an arm, “I told you everything would work out.”

Nadia cradled his arm and poked it with a finger looking for a target. “Buzz,” she said, “I never doubted you.”

And then she jammed the needle into the side of his neck, an inch below his left ear. Buzz screamed but didn’t manage to throw her to the floor until she’d flooded him with enough soup to overdose a trio of Abominations.

Nadia landed on her back at Sweeney’s feet. She looked up at Buzz who was trying and failing to yank the syringe out of his neck, muscles already numbing up. Buzz tried to stand and fell onto his stomach. He tried to speak but his tongue was swelling, and all that came out was a soft and slobbery sound. He threw an arm forward and hit Nadia’s leg but he was beyond a grasp by now.

Nadia sat up and kicked the hand away. She waited another second or two until she saw the eyes were dilated. Then she got onto her hands and knees, crawled to the incapacitated biker, pulled the needle from his neck and tossed it into a corner.

She put her hand over the seeping wound and said, “We’ll take good care of you, Buzz. I promise that. And the boys will come to visit whenever they get a chance.”

Taking a breath, she shifted position and said, “You okay?”

Sweeney sat up slowly and pulled down the sleeves of his shirt. He eyed Buzz cautiously and said, “You’re sure it was enough?”

She took her hand off the neck, wiped her palm across Buzz’s back, and said, “He’s in Limbo. And he’s never coming back.”

It took about an hour to give the Harmony a mediocre wipe-down. They worked in silence and spent most of their time packing what Nadia said she needed from the factory. They crated a hodgepodge of equipment, left it on the dock, and sat down in the rocking chairs.

“Do I want to know what was in my spike?” Sweeney asked.

“Saline,” Nadia said. “And some food coloring.”

“And you’re sure you won’t have any problems with the others?”

“I can handle my boys,” Nadia said. “Even the dumbest of the bunch knows he needs me more than Buzz.”

Sweeney thought about this for a few seconds, then asked, “How long will it take us to get there?”

For a while, he didn’t think she was going to answer. Then she said, “I’d like to make it to Tampico by Sunday. But you know, you can’t really open up a hearse.”

And as if on cue, they heard engines in the distance and looked out across the ruins to see the Abominations approaching. Near the end of the line of bikes he spotted his Accord. And bringing up the rear was the hulking, antique hearse. Both vehicles were spewing black smoke but managing to keep up with the convoy.

“I can’t believe,” Sweeney said, “they got the hearse up and running.”

“That’s been your problem from the start,” Nadia said. “This is a talented family. We can fix almost anything.”

“You’re sure there’s room,” Sweeney asked, “for both of them?”

“There’ll be plenty of room,” Nadia said. “There’s a lot of space when you take out the casket.”

Then the engine scream got too loud to talk over and they sat in silence as the bikes and the hearse and the Honda fell into a semicircle before them, idling, rumbling. The bikers glanced expectantly from one to the other and then all eyes turned up toward Nadia and Sweeney. And the nurse and the pharmacist gazed down on this collection of freaks, overgrown children with the names of creatures, all of them looking as if they had been woken, too suddenly, from a sleep that was heavy with the odd logic of dreams.

Nadia leaned over the dock railing and let a small smile spread over her lips.

“Okay, kids,” she said, “it’s time to rise and shine.”