Dead Harvest

  We'd only been walking a few minutes, headed south through the park toward what I hoped was the nearest street. With Anders' limp and blood-slick form cradled in my arms, it felt like we'd been walking for hours. For maybe the fifth time now, I hitched him upward, trying to re-establish my grip. But the kid was heavier than he looked, and the sheen of sweat and blood that graced his arms, his neck, his back, made it tough to hold on. The going was slow, and the makeshift bandage I'd juryrigged from the Flynn meat-suit's uniform shirt wasn't going to hold for long. We were running out of time.

  "Yeah," I said, "I know him a bit."

  "So what – you guys stand around the water cooler, chat about the souls you've snatched, that sort of thing?"

  "Not exactly. Bishop is the one who collected me."

  We trudged in silence for a moment. Finally, Kate broke it.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know."

  "How could you have?"

  "I don't know. I just – it's terrible, isn't it? Being taken, I mean."

  This time, it was my turn to pause. "Yes. Yes, it is."

  "I swear I can still feel him. Clawing. Tearing. Struggling to rip free my soul."

  "Listen to that feeling," I said. "For the collected, it never really goes away. If you're lucky, you came close enough, and it'll stick with you, too."

  "If I'm lucky?"

  "Damn right if you're lucky. Bishop's not done with you yet, Kate. If you can hold on to that feeling, you might be able to sense him coming. It could give you the edge you need to escape him."

  "So you can feel it, too? You can tell when he's nearby?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Then how – I mean, with Pinch…"

  "I didn't listen to my instincts. I got too close to the job. To Pinch. To all of you. I got too close, and you can see where it's landed us all. You can be sure I won't make that mistake again."

  "So if he's done it once before, what's to stop him from doing it again? I mean, how do we know that Anders is Anders?"

  "What's your gut tell you?"

  Kate frowned in concentration. "I – I don't know. I'm still a little rattled, but it's fading. I mean, he seems like Anders. Still, that's not a lot to go on."

  "It's enough," I said. "No way would Bishop have hitched a ride with Anders. The kid is badly hurt, and he might not make it. If he'd entered Anders, he might not find the strength to leave before it's curtains, and then he's fucked. Folks like me, we're happy enough with the living or the dead, but the dying, they're a whole 'nother matter. See, in death, the body expels any invading soul. And since a Collector can't exist without a body, that means when one of us dies, we end up reseeded somewhere else at random. Could be a freshly buried corpse half a world away. It could be a baby down the street, too weak to lift its own head, let alone give us the boost we need to jump away. So you keep listening to that gut – it's done fine by you so far."

  Kate shuffled along quietly for a moment, her face set in a thoughtful scowl. "Sam?" she said, finally.

  "Yeah?"

  "If he'd succeeded in taking me, would I be a Collector, too?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. It's not for me to say."

  "Better than the alternative, I suppose. You know, a lake of fire or whatever."

  I looked at the crumpled, dying figure I held cradled in my arms. "No," I replied, "it really isn't."

21.

As we approached the edge of the park, headlights shone through the trees – beacons of hope sweeping past us in the darkness. It was late, and the traffic was slight, but I was confident we'd find what we needed. But the slog through the park took longer than I'd expected, and the kid was fading fast. I only hoped it wasn't too late to make a difference.

  With Anders' bloody, wheezing frame cradled tight to my chest, I broke from the cover of the trees, staggering out into the street. Behind me, Kate screamed, but I paid her no mind. The screech of tires pierced the night, and the air hung thick with burnt rubber. It drifted blue-black across the roadway, stinging my eyes. I blinked back tears, and squinted against the sudden glare of headlights.

  Looked like I found my mark.