Flood - Andrew H. Vachss [120]
“Yes.”
“And it never will, baby. You keep a clean house, right? You don’t sit around trying to figure out where dirt comes from—you just sweep it out of the way or vacuum it up or whatever you do. You just don’t want it in your house—you already know it’s no good for you. Goldor’s just dirt, Flood. Don’t make any more out of him.”
Flood looked up at me. She started to talk slowly, but then the words ran together and she was talking like she’d never stop. “In that room, where he took us. First I thought you were dead . . . I thought he’d killed you with that space-gun thing. But then I could see you breathe and I thought about that lipstick thing you showed me once and I was afraid you would kill him if he came near you again and I wanted him to tell me about Wilson and I thought I’d play along with him and then it got all crazy and I forgot why I was there and I knew what I was going to do—I knew I’d never find Wilson if I did and I couldn’t stop myself and I wished I could kill him some more, some more times, and I thought about the girl you told me about on that film—she was just as important as Flower and she had people who would kill Goldor if I didn’t and I knew he was going to die anyway and I wanted to keep him talking—I knew you would take the pain over in that chair and wait and I knew I could take whatever he had and I’d live through it too—I wanted him to keep talking so he’d tell me something and I thought about tying him up like he did to you and making him tell us and I couldn’t think of even touching him and then I . . .”
I was rubbing her face with the back of my hand and she was talking quietly and fast and the tears were rolling again. I talked softly to her, like a mother crooning her baby to sleep. “Flood, we will have him, baby, we have his face, we’ll have his body . . . Flood, listen to me, I understand now about the sacred weapon, I understand, okay? I know why you wanted to wear that ribbon. Lucecita knows, baby—just like Flower will know. I wanted to cancel Goldor’s ticket myself, even while I was strapped into that chair I was thinking that there must be a better way of killing him so it would mean more than just stepping on a roach. You did what was right . . .” I whispered, my voice trailing off as I patted her face, still wet with tears.
“The robes?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Yes, the black robes came from my brother, the one I told you about—the master. It was a message from him, from Max, to go and do your work. Your work with Goldor is over. Goldor’s over. Lucecita is smiling down at you now, like Flower and Sadie soon will . . .”
“Burke, if you do that for me, I swear I’ll never leave you.”
“We’ll do it—me for my reasons, you for yours. But you have to get past this, I can’t do it by myself.”
“I can’t seem to get back to myself,” she was sobbing again “—I’m trying . . .”
“I didn’t think you were a coward, Flood—I thought you were a for-real warrior. My brother thinks so too. If you can’t get back, if you left yourself in that room with Goldor, then he won. You want that? He was going to torture you for a few minutes to entertain himself. Does he get to torture you for the rest of your life? Reach down for something, damn it—and if it’s not there you just hide in this little house and I’ll go and do my work—”
“It’s not your work.”
“Yeah, it is. Dead meat brings flies. I stirred up too much already. Wilson has to go—if he’s here, sooner or later he comes for me, or he does something, I don’t know what. I put my money on the table and I paid to see the last card. You’re spitting on the only good thing in this life—we survived. We walked away from that maggot’s house. We’re alive and he’s not. And now you want to die inside so you’re not a woman anymore, not nothing. I’m not going to be nothing. When I check out of this fucking hotel it won’t be because I’m a volunteer—and you can bet your ass it won’t be with the bill paid in