Part 28 (1/2)
”Grillo!” she yelled. ”Get in the car!” The pale army heard her, and picked up its speed. ”The car, Grillo, get in the f.u.c.king car!” She saw him fumble for the door, barely in control of his responses. Some of the smaller beasts at the head of the tide were already scuttling towards the vehicle at speed, leaving their larger brethren to come after the boy. There were enough, more than enough, to take all three of them apart joint by joint, and the car too. Despite their multiplicity (no two alike, it seemed) there was the same blank-eyed, relentless intention in every one. They were destroyers.
She leaned down and took hold of the boy's arm, avoiding the racheting limbs of the parasite as best she could. Its hold on him was too intimate to be undone, she saw. Any attempt to separate them would only invite reprisals. ”Get up,” she told him. ”We can make it.”
”You go,” he murmured. He was utterly wasted.
”No,” she said. ”We both go. No heroics. We both go.” She glanced back at the car. Grillo was in the act of slamming the door as the army's foot-runners came at the car, hopping up on to the roof and hood. One, the size of a baboon, began to throw its body against the winds.h.i.+eld repeatedly.
The others tore at the door handle and worked their barbs between the windows and their frames.
”It's me they want,” the boy said.
”If we go, they follow?” Tesla said.
He nodded. Hauling him to his feet, and turning his right arm (the hand badly injured, she saw) over her shoulder, she fired one shot into the approaching ma.s.s-which hit one of the larger beasts but didn't slow it a beat-then turned her back on it and began to haul them both away.
He had directions to give.
”Down the Hill,” he said.
”Why?”
”The Mall...”
Again: ”Why?”
”My father...is there.”
She didn't argue. She just hoped father, whoever he was, had some help to offer, because if they succeeded in outrunning the army they were going to be in no fit state to defend themselves at the end of the race.
As she turned the next corner, the boy offering muttered instructions, she heard the car's winds.h.i.+eld shatter.
A short distance from the drama just played out, the Jaff and Tommy-Ray, with Jo-Beth in tow, watched Grillo fumbling for the ignition, succeeding-after some effort-in getting the car started, and driving off, throwing from the hood the terata that had shattered the winds.h.i.+eld.
”b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” said Tommy-Ray.
”It doesn't matter,” the Jaff said. ”There's plenty more where he came from. You wait 'til the party tomorrow. Such pickings.”
The creature was not quite dead; it let out a thin whine of complaint.
”What do we do with it?” Tommy-Ray wondered.
”Leave it there.”
”Some roadkill,” came the boy's reply. ”People are going to notice.”
”It won't survive the night,” the Jaff replied. '”By the time the scavengers have got to it n.o.body'll know what the h.e.l.l it was.”
”What the f.u.c.k's going to eat that?” Tommy-Ray asked.
”Anything hungry enough,” came the Jaff's reply. ”And there's always something hungry enough. Isn't that right, Jo-Beth?” The girl said nothing. She'd given up weeping and talking. All she did was watch her brother with pitiful confusion on her face.
”Where's Katz going?” the Jaff wondered aloud.
”Down to the Mall,” Tommy-Ray informed him.
”Fletcher's calling him.”
”Yeah?”
”Just as I hoped. Wherever the son ends up, that's where we'll find the father.”
”Unless the terata get him first.”
”They won't. They have their instructions.”
”What about the woman with him?”
”Wasn't that too perfect? What a Samaritan. She's going to die, of course, but what a great way to go, full of how big-f.u.c.king-hearted you are.”
The remark elicited a response from the girl.
”Isn't there anything touches you?” she said.
The Jaff studied her. ”Too much,” he said. ”Too much touches me. The look on your face. The look on his.” He glanced at Tommy-Ray, who grinned, then back at Jo-Beth. ”All I want to do is see clearly. Past the feelings, to the reasons. ”
”And this is how? Killing Howie? Destroying the Grove?”
”Tommy-Ray learned to understand, after his fas.h.i.+on. You can do the same if you'll give me time to explain. It's a long story. But trust me when I say that Fletcher's our enemy, and his son our enemy too. They'd kill me if they could-”
”Not Howie.”
”Oh yes. He's his father's son even if he doesn't know it. There's a prize to be won soon, Jo-Beth. It's called the Art. And when I have it, I'll share it-”
”I don't want anything from you.”
”I'll show you an island-”
”No.”
”-and a sh.o.r.e-”
He reached to her, stroking her cheek. Against her better judgment his words soothed her. It was not the fetus-head she saw in front of her, but a face that had seen hards.h.i.+p; had been plowed by it, and perhaps had wisdom planted.
”Later,” he said. ”We'll have plenty of time to talk. On that island, the day never ends.”
--------------ii--------------
''Why don't they overtake us?” Tesla said to Howie.