to be vain. His eyes were cold, his face narrow, and he talked funny. He was European, not from the warm, loud, laugh-a-lot side of Europe like Grandpa and his family, but from the cold, harsh, serious side of Europe. Mr. Browning and Mr. Garrett were on litters in the middle of the floor, and he was kneeling between them, checking their vitals.
'Are you a Healer?' she shouted hopefully over the engine noise.
'Something like that, child. Not nearly that strong though. Please, let me be.'
Mr. Harkeness had seemed sullen ever since she had first spoken with him. The very first question out of his mouth was if Jane was alive. When she'd told him that Mr. Madi had taken her away, he had given her the sternest glare, like he held her personally responsible for her friend's loss. That wasn't fair at all. She'd killed an Iron Guard and shot Madi and a couple of zombies and kept Francis from getting squished and kept Mr. Sullivan from getting a bullet in the back of the head. She'd done her very best and she wasn't even officially a Grimnoir yet. She'd like to see the fancy-pants European do any of that.
Her friends were all staring out at the destruction, bouncing back and forth in the rusty truck bed, all except for Mr. Sullivan, who was watching something else, something far away in the distance, where only he could see. Delilah's body had been wrapped in a blanket and he knelt next to it, protectively. She'd sworn to kill Mr. Madi, but she figured it was going to be a race now between the two of them as to who got to kill him first. Mr. Sullivan looked real mad. The truck bed smelled like manure, and that made her feel a little more comfortable, like home. Either way, as long as Madi died, that would make Grandpa and Delilah happy in heaven. Maybe they would kill him together. That seemed fair.
A bunch of volunteers waved at them as they went past. They looked glad to see someone alive and that gave them hope to keep digging with their shovels. Lance was talking to Mr. Rawls, telling him about what had happened. Apparently Mr. Rawls was the one who had been assigned to come out here and take General Pershing's place.
'It seems like we've done this once before, doesn't it, Mr. Talon,' Mr. Rawls said sadly, putting his arm over Lance's broad shoulders. 'Only this time, the toll was much worse.'
Lance caught Faye giving him a curious look. 'Last time the Imperium found us, they burned my house down. That was three years ago, in the attack where Black Jack got cursed. Isaiah and Kristopher here were some of the knights sent to reinforce us,' he explained. 'We tracked them down and killed the lot of them, but we lost some good men in the process.'
'Poor Jane, always so gentle and naive. She volunteered to stay and minister to Pershing. I told her it was too dangerous. Pershing was always getting into trouble. Look where that got her. And my granddaughter took a liking to this one,' Mr. Harkeness muttered, poking at Mr. Garrett's belly. 'Girl never had any sense…'
That made Faye angry. Mr. Garrett was a very nice man. He was unconscious so she felt the need to stick up for him. 'Jane loves Dan a whole bunch.'
Harkeness snorted. 'And this lump told me he'd protect her, keep her safe. Fat lot of good you all did.'
Heinrich was sitting across from Mr. Harkeness, one leg dangling over the side. When he lifted his face, Faye saw a look very similar to the one he'd had when he'd shot her in the heart with his Luger. His voice was totally flat. 'Say that again, Scheisskopf, and see what happens.'
'That's enough, Kristopher,' Mr. Rawls barked. 'These knights have been through too much.' Mr. Harkeness frowned, and went back to his work. 'It isn't their fault your granddaughter was lost.'
'We will get her back,' Lance vowed. Heinrich and Francis nodded, so Faye did too. Sullivan was still staring off into space.
'Sadly, there are more important things at stake than the life of a single Grimnoir,' Mr. Rawls said. 'General Pershing was keeping me informed about the Geo-Tel situation. We must secure the last piece before it is too late… You were Pershing's men. Who did he entrust with the location?' There was no response. Faye looked around. She knew, but she didn't think she was supposed to say. 'Look, I know he kept it secret. The General was paranoid, for good reason, but he's gone now. The elders have sent me to fill his shoes, and they're some mighty big shoes to fill, believe me. I rode with him before most of you were born. I was a young Buffalo Soldier under his command, before either one of us was recruited by the Society. I feel his loss as much as anyone, but you must understand how important this device is.'
'Oh, I think we do,' Francis said, gesturing at the scorched earth all around them. Buzzards weren't even circling, because everything dead was too crispy to eat.
Mr. Rawls' laughter was genuine. 'This? Francis, my boy, this is nothing. The Geo-Tel cut a swath through Siberia that you can't even imagine. I was one of the knights of New York, and we came this close'-he held up thumb and forefinger nearly touching-'to losing the whole east coast. When there were many pieces scattered and unknown, then Pershing's way made sense, but now there is only one. The single most important mission of the entire Society is to find it.'
'And destroy it,' Lance said.
'Of course. The elders were foolish when they thought they could keep it to maybe use it themselves one day. We should have smashed it to bits back in '08. If the General confided in any of you, we must know. The world depends on it.'
The truck reached the edge of the blast zone. The black ash just stopped in a perfectly straight line. On one side was death and on the other there was yellow summer grass, seemingly undisturbed. Police cars were parked on both sides as the road reappeared. Soldiers hurried and moved wooden barricades out of the way as the driver shouted there were survivors to take to the hospital.
The gear box ground as the truck rolled forward. A police car got in front of them and turned on its siren. Reporters tried to take their picture as they went by but the Grimnoir kept their heads down. The group was silent, and Faye thought about raising her hand, but she hesitated. General Pershing had shown her exactly where to go to find Southunder.
'The only thing standing between the Chairman and the deadliest device ever conceived is a single Grimnoir, who probably doesn't even know that his old companions have all been slaughtered. We must get to him before it is too late.' Mr. Rawls pleaded, 'You are not betraying the General, you are fulfilling his final mission.'
Sullivan started to laugh. It was a low chuckle at first, but then it turned into a full belly laugh. He was at the rear of the truck, and the shocks creaked under his weight as he turned. 'You all are too rich.' He had to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. 'Damn near as self-righteous as the Chairman.'
'Pershing told you?' Mr. Rawls said incredulously.
'Because he knew better than to trust anyone else. Yeah, I know how to find Bob Southunder.'
'You must tell us then.'
'Pershing gave me a job. I intend to do it. I'll find Southunder and the last piece. That's my duty. Not yours.'
'You can't hope to do this on your own. You're just mad with grief, son,' Mr. Rawls said.
'Maybe. But that don't change nothing.'
'If the Chairman finds out where it is, he'll send his Iron Guard against you,' Mr. Harkeness said coldly.
'I'm counting on it. And when they come, I'll be there, waiting,' Sullivan stated. Faye could tell he meant it. If there was anything she knew about Mr. Sullivan, he was a man who kept his promises or who'd die trying.
Mr. Rawls was upset. 'This isn't a game. Tell me where Southunder is. That's an order, Grimnoir.'
Sullivan paused, took Pershing's ring from his pinky and tossed it into the truck bed. It rolled to a stop next to Mr. Browning. 'I never took no oath.'
Mr. Rawls' thick white eyebrows scrunched together as he glared at Mr. Sullivan. Faye could almost feel the Power crackle through the air around them. If Sullivan wouldn't talk, then he'd just pick the truth out himself. She'd felt how strong Mr. Rawls was. He'd been able to talk to her mind through hundreds of feet of solid rock.
But Sullivan was stronger than any old ocean cliff. Unbreakable. He closed his eyes as Mr. Rawls; tried to force his way into his head, a look of terrible concentration creasing the big man's square face. 'Get out of my brain,' Sullivan said. She turned to Mr. Rawls, sweat was rolling down his face and veins were popping out in his forehead. The whole truck creaked as Sullivan stood up. He calmly drew his.45, took a magazine from his pocket, stuck it into the grip, and racked the slide. Raising the gun, he aimed it at Mr. Rawls. 'I said, get out of my brain or I spread yours all over the road.'
The Reader gasped as he let go. 'What are you?'
'Angry.' Sullivan put his gun back into the military flap holster on his belt. He turned to Heinrich. 'See to
