Judge Dredd

dumb, but he can’t get his bodily functions workin’ right. If the wind was right you could tell.”

Mean Machine stepped up closer to Fergie. He pricked Fergie’s foot with his blade, turned the edge around and around in the light of the flame. When he looked at Dredd, his half-smile faded away.

“We are mighty proud to have you here, Dredd. Mighty proud, indeed.” His blade swept out faster than any eye could see. A thin line of red appeared on Dredd’s chest. “You’re hard to hurt, I bet. Pa’s going to like that.”

“Let me—snuk-snuk!—kill it, Pa!”

“Huh-uh!” Link-Link’s face screwed up in a mask. “You said I could have one, Pa!”

“Hallelujah, brother!” Fergie cried out. “Right on. Glory to the Lord! May His mighty sword smite sinners from the face of the earth! May His wrath stomp down on the unbeliever, may He damn the rich and raise up the poor!”

Mean Machine’s eyes went wide. He gave Fergie a puzzled look.

“What you doing? Why you sayin’ stuff like that?”

“Lo, the wicked shall eat the dust of thy path, O Lord. E-ternal damnation to him who follows the false law of the Cities and curses the one true Lord of this dry and forgotten land!”

Pa Angel took a step forward. He turned his shrouded face up to Fergie. “Cud id be? Frum duh Cidy ub duh fallen, a fate-ful wud has a-beered?”

“Amen,” Fergie shouted. “The sheep’s come home, man, that’s me!”

“Ferguson…” Dredd shook his head in disgust. “You don’t want to do this. Believe me, you don’t.”

“Yeah? Think again, unbeliever.”

Mean Machine turned to his brothers. “Cut him down. If Pa says this’n is a Believer, why I reckon he is.”

Fergie laughed as Link-Link and Junior Head-Dead scrambled up the post to cut him free.

“The Law doesn’t make mistakes, Dredd, right? But I’m free and you’re toast. Go figure, man!”

“Wrong. I’m toast, Ferguson. You’re meat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“These are the Angels, dope-head. They’re Cursed Earth scavengers. Scumbags. They’re also cannibals.”

Fergie stared. “Hey, no way. Don’t go telling me shit like that, Dredd. Don’t even joke about it, man.” He turned to Mean Machine. “Right, pal? Tell him, brother.”

“Hagga-lulla!” Pa Angel shouted.

“Snuk-snuk-snuk!” said Junior Head-Dead.

TWENTY-THREE

“This is terrific, you know? I mean, meeting you guys, a bunch of other Believers out here in the middle of nowhere, now what’s the chance of that? Is that God’s will or what?”

“G-g-g-glory!” Link-Link said.

“Snuk-snuk!” said Junior Head-Dead.

Fergie winked, and did a little bantam-weight shuffle. He tapped Junior lightly on the head. His hand came away with flecks of scorched hair. When the others weren’t looking, he wiped it on his pants.

“I can do a Eee-Tee-Ay,” Link-Link said. “I g-got real good navigash’nul skills. I got cord’nuts in my head.”

“Right,” Fergie said. “See a Medik next time you’re in town. Fix you right up.”

Link-Link and Junior were leading him down a narrow passage through the ruined building. Link-Link carried a burning torch. Fergie wondered where they were going, but didn’t want to ask. What he wanted to do was get far enough away from the big spook himself and that lunatic with the muckin’ machete for an arm, get his bearings straight, lose these freakos and get the hell out of town.

He felt bad about Dredd. Not bad enough to stick around, for sure, and hey, Dredd had gotten him into this squirrel nest, you couldn’t forget about that. Better Herman Ferguson on the loose than hanging there with what’s- his-name and his oversized shiv, and the old guy with the speech defect. These two groons were bad enough, but those guys…

“So,” Fergie said, “we’re going where, out for some air or what? A quick tour’s fine with me, I don’t have to be back or anything. Man, it is great out here, you know? Away from the stinkin’ city lights. God is good! Glory to His name!”

“G-Glory!” Link-Link said.

“Snuk-snuk!” said Junior Head-Dead.

Fergie looked at Link. “No kidding, fella, you get to a doc sometime, they could fix up that little problem you got with the nose. I mean, no offense, you don’t mind me bringing up the nose, right? Like, the leatherwork’s attractive and all…” He squinted at Junior’s ears. “You people work with heavy machinery a lot? I was thinking, you know, industrial accidents, something like that? They got good safety gear, you take the right precautions this— huh?”

Link-Link had stopped. He held the torch up to Fergie and stared.

“Wh-what you talkin’ about, f-fixing what?”

“Just talking, okay?” Fergie didn’t like the guy’s look. Like someone had stepped on his foot.

Link-Link looked confused. “Can’t n-nobody fix nothin’ except Pa. Pa’s re-ordinated and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard.”

Link-Link grinned. “Pa says if I w-walk in God’s misery and pain, I can git the Holy Gouging when I’m fifteen. Mean Machine’ll git it next year, an’ I’m after that!”

Fergie’s throat went dry. All the meals he’d missed stirred a queasy soup in his belly. “You’re saying… nah, you’re not sayin’ that, like what I think you’re saying…”

“Pa’s got it all,” Link-Link said. “The whole B-B-Blessed Mutilation of God! Ears and eyes and nose sewed up, and his m-mouth, too. He’s the only Angel’s got that.”

Link-Link rolled his eyes, thrust out his arms and turned a circle twice.

“Lo, he hast s-sewed up his every wicked ori-fuss against the evil of the world. He h-has shut out sin and cast Satan aside. He hast b-b-become a pure abomy-nation of the Lord!”

Oh, shit, I am out of here…

“Look, I got some private hygiene stuff, and you fellas have plenty to do. If you can just point me outside —”

Link-Link kicked Fergie solidly in the rear. Fergie grabbed air and bit a mouthful of floor.

“Hey, hold on there! What the hell, guys?”

Link-Link straddled Fergie’s back, crushing all the air out of his lungs. Junior wound a piece of rusty wire around his hands, then looped the other end about his feet. Link took one shoulder and Junior took the other. Together, they dragged Fergie on his belly down the hall.

“Wait a minute,” Fergie said, “I’m a Believer. I’m a—I’m a Maggot of God, just like you!”

“That’s why we l-love you, brother,” Link-Link said.

“You got a weird way of showing it, brother.”

“Like you better’n him,” Link said. “Lot’s better’n that one… Don’t we, Junior?”

“Snuk!”

“Who? Who are we talking about here? Dredd? Is that who, Dredd?”

Link made a face. “He’s a agg-nasty or something. Ch-chock fulla sin!”

Link and Junior let go. Link flipped him over on his back. Fergie looked straight at a bed of hot coals. He looked at the heavy iron spit, and he looked at the thing that was crackling there, crackling red and black, juices