Secret Dead Men by Duane Swierczynski Page A

possible."
    I hung up the phone and waited. Time passed. Brain dust motes flew through the imaginary air space and attached themselves to the lobby walls. The wallpaper faded a bit, and then faded a bit more. The carpet became desiccated and brittle from the lack of use. The air smelled like it had been sealed in a tomb for a hundred generations.
    Brad never showed up.
    I turned around to look up at the lobby screen. Paul had our body outside, heading back toward the motel. The ground looked hot. Tiny sizzle lines were rising up from it.
    I hit the mike button. "How's it going on your end?"
    The view on the screen jolted. Shit, Del! Don't do that!
    "Sorry." I was becoming a real apologist lately. "What's going on?"
    I've got everything packed in the Datsun, and I set the timer. There's a cab waiting around the front for us. By the time I sit our ass down in the backseat, the Datsun will be nothing but flaming embers.
    "Excellent." I still couldn't believe what an amazing asset Paul was turning out to be. Me? As much as I take pride in my professional abilities, it's safe to say I'd still be handcuffed to that chair, still trying to trick my way out of the situation.
    "By the way, where'd you stash Fieldman?"
    The trunk. Where else?
    My blood turned to fizzing Pepsi in my veins. "The trunk?"
    Yeah, the trunk.
    "The trunk of the Datsun?"
    You have another car you're planning to blow up?
----
    Eleven
    Supernatural Disaster
    Without another thought, I whipped myself through the front doors of the lobby and muttered owatta goo siam and regained control of my body. I'm sure being jerked away from the controls wasn't a pleasant sensation for Paul, but I didn't give a hoot at that particular point. Paul had planned to kill Fieldman without a second thought. While I may be many things to many men--rogue agent, crappy detective, soul collector--I'm not a killer. At least, not when I can help it.
    I recalled, with a shudder, my command to Paul to "take care of him."
    My vision swirled for a few seconds, and I felt my soul ooze back into the confines of my physical body. My skin was sweaty, my muscles fatigued. Paul had kept us busy. I spun around and saw the Datsun, parked about 100 yards away near a group of dirty boulders. I started running for it.
    "Paul," I said aloud.
    Nothing. My heart started to smack against my ribcage. My lungs informed me that I was running way too fast for my own good. I didn't care.
    "Paul!" I yelled.
    His words spat out in my skull. Don't go back there! You're going to kill us all!
    "How long we got left on the timer?" I wheezed.
    No time, goddamnit! Turn the fuck around!
    "How long?"
    Paul didn't answer. Maybe he went back to his room to say a few prayers. It wasn't a bad idea.
    After what felt like a mini-marathon, I reached the Datsun and accidentally slammed into it. That's it, I thought: Ka-boom. The second death of Del Farmer, once again by flaming automobile. Mercifully, though, the car only bucked on its suspension. My hands flittered around the trunk uselessly for a few seconds before I realized I needed the key. I patted down my pants pockets, then my shirt. Flat.
    "Paul, where are the keys? Where are the car keys, damnit?"
    A quiet voice spoke in my head: I threw them in the trunk.
    Perfect.
    Ordinarily, I would have found myself in a state of absolute despair--the kind that leaves you no other option but to piss your pants and start barking like a dog. Or running away from the car as fast as you can, forgetting about all this "morality" bullshit and catching a cab outta here. But I was moving along with such a fevered inertia that I bent down, snatched a rock from the ground, and starting pounding the rock on the keyhole of the trunk.
    Predictably, it didn't do a thing except chip the paint.
    Still, I struck it again and again, thinking that every blow would be it: Ka-Powsville. I kept it up, like that crazy ape from the opening scenes from 2001: A Space Odyssey . I wished I had a bone. I'd fling