Grey kept his smile on his face, but it felt like it was hammered there with rusty nails.
“So,” said Lucky Bob as he took a casual step forward, “what’s a couple of bad pennies like us doing here, Mr. Torrance?”
“Call me Grey.”
“Fine. What’s the game, Grey? You have your hands up like you want to surrender.”
Grey lowered his arms slowly. “Not really. More of an attention-getter. Actually I wanted to have a chat.”
“A chat, is it? You want to beg Lord Deray for mercy? Do you want to offer terms for your surrender? Do you want to lay at his feet and—.”
“Actually, sport,” said Grey, “I don’t really have much to say to your lord and master that don’t involve four-letter words. I got no use for him. I wouldn’t buy water from him if I was on fire. I wouldn’t waste water to spit on him.”
Now no one on the bridge was smiling. A cold and dangerous light ignited in Lucky Bob’s dark eyes. “You want to watch that mouth of yours, boy.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? I kind of think you’re already playing that card faceup on the table.”
“There are worse things than death.”
“Yeah,” said Grey. “I know. I’m looking at that right now.”
“I think I’ll let the dead eat you last,” said Lucky Bob. “After you’ve watched us kill every last person in town.”
“Maybe that’s how it’ll work out,” said Grey. “But before we get to that, I want to speak to you. To the manitou and to the human soul of Bob Pearl that I know is still in there. I want you both to hear what I say. Just you two. As for the rest…? Well, you’d know better than me, but I’m pretty sure they’re not the reasonable type.”
“Not much, no.” Lucky Bob cocked his head to one side. “But before you waste your last breath on an impassioned plea, son, understand that there’s nothing you can say to make this easier on you. There’s only one way this is going to end and we both know it.”
“Maybe,” said Grey. “And then again maybe not.”
“Don’t die a fool, boy. And don’t embarrass yourself by begging for mercy.”
“Nope, not about that. This isn’t about you sparing me or the people here. You’re going to try to kill us and maybe you will. Before you do, though, you need to know what you’re going to risk. Not your troops, but you. The manitou inside and the man. You both need to hear this.”
Above them a voice bellowed. “No!”
They looked up to see Deray grasping the shattered rail of the frigate. It descended through the rain and then stopped forty feet above the bridge. Close enough for a rifle shot, thought Grey. Tough height and angle for a pistol shot, especially in this weather. Might be worth trying, though. If he thought he could kill the man with absolute certainty, he might have gone for it. Even with all those guns pointed at him. It might end the war right here.
As if reading his mind, Deray barked an order. “Pearl — kill him now. He is nothing. His words are nothing but lies.”
“My, my, my,” said Grey. “He almost sounds scared. Makes me wonder if he’s afraid of what I’m going to say.”
Lucky Bob narrowed his eyes. For a moment the evil intensity of his expression wavered. He glanced up at Deray. “My lord,” he said, placing his free hand over the ghost rock chunk buried in his chest, “give me a minute or two with this fool. He felt it was important to come out here like this, maybe he has something worth hearing.”
Deray clearly did not like it, but he also clearly did not want to appear weak or nervous in front of his troops. He gave a terse wave of his hand. “Make it quick, then, and afterward bring me his head.”
“That’s the plan, my lord,” said Lucky Bob. He turned, thumbed the hammer back on his big pistol, and nodded to Grey. “Speak your piece.”
“Okay, then here it is,” said Grey, pitching his voice loud enough for them all to hear. “We know who and what you are, Bob. We know about the manitou inside you. We know that the manitou and the human being are wrestling each other for control. Right now it looks like the manitou has been winning hands down, but we both know that’s not set in stone. It never will be. I never met Lucky Bob, but from what everybody’s been telling me he was one tough son of a bitch. Brave, forthright, strong-willed, maybe even noble. He died trying to save this town. We know this.”
Grey saw how his words hit the Harrowed. He licked his withered lips and said nothing.
Behind him the undead were growing impatient and kept looking past Lucky Bob to their prey hiding behind the sandbag barrier.
“And just as we know about you, Bob,” continued Grey, “we know what will happen if you die.”
“So what?” asked Lucky Bob. “You killed me already yesterday and here I stand, right as this rain.” With his free hand he snatched a few raindrops out of the air and then flung the water at Grey.
“Yeah, well,” said Grey, “that’s because I didn’t kill you the right way, did I?”
Lucky Bob said nothing.
“That’s because I didn’t put a bullet in your brain,” said Grey. “Yeah, that’s got your attention. If your brain is destroyed, it won’t send you back to Hell. It’ll destroy you for good and all. For all time. Forever.” He pointed to the row of rifles that pointed from atop the sandbags. “Every man and woman in Paradise Falls knows that they can kill your immortal soul.”
The silence was immense. Even Deray’s yells had dwindled down to nothing.
“Now listen to me and listen to me good,” said Grey. “We don’t want to do that to you. Not even to you. Far as we’re all concerned, you’re a victim a couple of times over. First you were murdered. I suspect that Chesterfield’s men gunned you down, didn’t they, Lucky Bob?
The Harrowed said nothing.
“Then Aleksander Deray put that ghost rock in your chest and he made you his slave. Maybe he invoked the manitou and sent it to take you over, or maybe he grabbed you once that happened. Don’t know and don’t really care. I’ll bet the manitou inside of you isn’t happy about being a slave to Deray. I know Lucky Bob Pearl isn’t. That chunk of ghost rock in your chest is the same as having an iron collar around your neck. Magic or chains, it all comes out the same. As long as it’s there, you’ll never be free of Deray. You’ll never be really alive. That means you traded one hell for another.”
“His words are meaningless,” yelled Deray. “Don’t listen to him. Kill him. I command you!”
“You’re talking a lot, boy,” said Lucky Bob, “but are you getting anywhere with this?”
“I am. I’m here to give you a chance, Lucky Bob.”
“A chance at what?”
“At being free.”
They stared at him. Waiting. Waiting.
“Stand with us,” said Grey, lowering his tone so that only Lucky Bob could hear him, “and you get to live. Doctor Saint will even find some way of removing that damn rock. Stand with us, with your daughter, and save the town you love. The town you died trying to protect.”
Lucky Bob seemed to waver, and Grey prayed that he had reached the man — that good man — inside.
“I…,” began the Harrowed, but he stopped and shook his head.
“Defy me and I will burn you,” said Deray.
Something caught Grey’s eye and it very nearly made him falter. Forty feet away from where he stood, gathered together beneath the leafless boughs of a dead cottonwood, he saw a dozen figures. All men except for one young woman. Every face was familiar. Every face was as pale as death. Dark eyes, hard mouths.
The ghosts. His ghosts.