ALSO BY ANDREW VACHSS
THE BURKE SERIES
Flood
Strega
Blue Belle
Hard Candy
Blossom
Sacrifice
Down in the Zero
Footsteps of the Hawk
False Allegations
Safe House
Choice of Evil
Dead and Gone
Pain Management
Only Child
Down Here
Mask Market
Terminal
Another Life
OTHER NOVELS
Shella
The Getaway Man
Two Trains Running
Haiku The Weight
SHORT-STORY COLLECTIONS
Born Bad
Everybody Pays
my beloved brother Olaf
29 December 2010 @ 11:30 p.m.
he chose the night to depart
bringing a new star to the sky
a warrior’s star, casting its own light
a guidepost to the path of righteousness
a warning to predators
and now the True North for all our tribe
my brother:
welcomed by Odin
waiting for us
and always, always watching
My name is Esau Till.
What I’ve put down here isn’t some “Death Row Diary,” like the bloodsuckers wanted to pay me to write. Don’t look for a last-minute confession to crimes I was never caught for. Or for the apology some think I owe.
This is a bomb. The last one I’ll ever build. You’ll never even know it exists unless someone stumbles over the tripwire I left behind.
That will happen only if I am betrayed. I don’t expect that, but I still have to plan for it.
No bomb I made ever failed, which is why people paid me so much to build them. In my chosen line of work, you have to earn a reputation before you start earning real money.
My bombs were always custom-tailored to the job. Now, the only ingredients I have for building this last one are my own words. Those words should be more than enough, but they won’t ignite unless they are believed.
I know if I’m caught in one single lie people might well disbelieve my entire account … and they’d be entitled to do so. All it takes is a single clutch of termite eggs to bring down a whole house.
People say the truth can’t be killed. Maybe not. But from my own experience, I know it can be buried so deep it might as well never have existed at all.
Oh, you might get your ear close enough to the ground to hear it ticking. But no matter how close you listen, you’re still just hearing strange noises deep down in the dark.
Your eyes won’t help, either. The brighter the light you shine, the more the darkness thickens.
Only the most powerful explosive will light the way. So this bomb must be like the most carefully constructed house.
I know it must stand up to the most microscopic examination. And it must stay standing, no matter what attempts are made to defuse it.
For this house, each brick will be embedded in the cement of gospel truth. No flood will ever carry it away. No fire will ever incinerate it. And the most powerful wrecking ball would just bounce right off.
I never broke my word when I was alive. That’s the one thing I get to take with me, and I intend on doing just that. I’m building this house out of nothing but truth, and no more powerful explosive has ever been invented. Once revealed, it will be denied by some, and “explained” by others.
But it can’t be changed.
When that last button is pushed, the roof will fly off. Inside, just a few empty rooms.
And a map.
I’m marking that map with an “X” for each spot.
If you’re looking for buried treasure, don’t waste your time. But if you dig deep enough, if you keep digging, you will find that pure truth I promised. It’s all there.
Whether that truth frees you or destroys you no longer matters to me.
I’m done.
e and Tory-boy, neither of us came out right. I was born with this spine thing. I’m past forty years old, and I’ve never once stood on my own feet.
Tory came along about eight years after me. He was a big, handsome baby. It took a while before you could tell he carried the same curse I did.
I’ve been protecting Tory-boy all his life. I won’t stop doing that just because the State is getting ready to end mine.
Nobody expects anything less from me. They have confidence that I’ll come up with some way to keep right on protecting my little brother.
People who truly know me, they know I’ll find a way. It took a lot of time and a lot of lives, but I finally forced that knowledge upon them—etched it too deep into their minds for them to ever believe otherwise.
f you’re reading this, you’ll come to know my life.
Not the fairy story I told on TV, or in court. You’ll know what parts I left out of those stories.
By that, I don’t mean the crimes I never spoke of, or how I got them done. What good would it do if I explained how I could make our satellite dish throw out a plasma-cutter beam? People already know enough ways to kill other people. They seem to be getting better at it. The whole human race, I mean.
So, when you come across certain people’s names in here, keep in mind that I am breaking no vows. Yes, I know I’m building a graveyard. But I’m really only marking the tombstones—those who betrayed me put themselves beneath them.
I don’t feel any guilt. When it comes to such things, I don’t feel much of anything. And what I do feel is no more complicated than this: I know the difference between the best possible result and the best result possible.
The best possible result would be for everyone to keep their word. Then my Tory-boy would still be protected, even long after I’m gone.
But if certain people break their word—and you’ll not be reading this if they haven’t done so—all that’s left is the best result possible.
Revenge.
never trusted a word out of a government man’s mouth from the time I was old enough to understand how they were to blame for everything that had happened to all of us.
If the government could look away from—well, you’ll see for yourselves—they’re even worse than the Beast they had kept on feeding for so long. If it wasn’t for me, they’d still be doing it.
here’s only two people on this earth I trust.
My little brother is one of those two, and he would never reveal who the other one is. All I had to do was say “secret” to Tory-boy, and nothing could ever make him tell it.
Maybe you’ll think badly of me when I tell you this, but I promised the truth, so I have to say how I know Tory-boy would keep anything I told him was “secret” to himself, no matter what. He was still very small when I started training him. As soon as I thought he was ready, I hid some money—just a couple of dollars and some coins—and I told Tory-boy where I’d stashed it. Then I told him it was “secret.” And then I let it slip to Rory-Anne that I’d hidden some money.