"Devil? Did you say devil?"
"You know you the devil."
"Me?" Luv laughed. "Me? I'm Captain Love. I be Cap'n Luvvv."
"Be crazy," muttered Kiwasee. A strange calm had descended over him. He never thought he would die in a place like Clamden. All the dangers at home, the knifings, the shootings, the drive-bys. Man would gut you for dissing him, firebomb your apartment for insulting him, bumping into him, just looking at him wrong. Nothing here in Clamden to hurt you but bunnies and squirrels and chickenshit commuters. And one insane cop.
And the devil himself.
Kiwasee crawled onto the island, impervious to the briers and brambles that tore at him and ripped his clothing. It didn't matter now, nothing much mattered now. He was too tired to resist, too weary of being hit.
He just didn't care, he wanted it over with. But when he reached the hole that the devil had been digging and saw the plastic bag lying next to it, he began to cry. He forgot the injuries, he forgot his exhaustion, he forgot everything except his desire to live.
"Don' kill me," he wept. "I ain't seen nothing, I won't tell nothing."
"It's all right," the devil said soothingly, his voice close to Kiwasee's ear. "It's all right."
"Don' want to die."
"You're just going to feel pressure," said Luv. "It won't really hurt."
He sat on Kiwasee's back, forcing him to his stomach. Kiwasee's head was over the open hole in the earth. Luv gripped Kiwasee's neck in his gloved hand.
"You mustn't struggle, it will help you, it will make you feel better. I won't hit you with the shovel anymore, I promise, just let me do this, it's good for you. You see, it's just pressure, it's not pain, it doesn't hurt at all. Your pain is even going away, isn't it, do you feel it leaving? Feel how warm my hand is, doesn't that feel good, doesn't that make it feel better? It's just pressure, it's not hurting you… That's it, that's it… that's it."
Luv felt the beast roar to life within him as he clenched Kiwasee's neck, shutting off the brain like slowly turning down a rheostat. He had fought Kiwasee to save himself, fought out of necessity and adrenaline, but now the glorious beast took over and Luv felt the thrill course through him as the man beneath him gave up the last resistance.
He wanted to howl with the lust of it, throw back his head like a wolf and rend the night air with his accomplishment, his mastery, his complete control.
He lay for a long time atop Kiwasee, his body pressed against the dead man's, his erection like a rock.
Luv stood at last, still dizzy with excitement. He'd killed a man, a man. He hadn't planned it, it had just happened, out of necessity, but the killing had summoned forth his glorious beast. The mania had not caused him to kill, the killing had brought forth the ecstasy. Luv pondered the implications giddily. Did this mean that he was in control of it? Did it mean that he could cause it to happen whenever he chose?
He would have to think about the meaning, but right now he was still too exhilarated to do so calmly. He had to get rid of Kiwasee but he had no routine to fall back upon. This was not a motel room, there was no shower in which to perform his operations. It was a time to be clever, not methodical.
Luv tried to think, to be cool and rational, but his heart kept singing.
He had killed a man-a man! The most primal act of all. Murder. And in a fight, in hand-to-hand combat. He had challenged another man, bested him, killed him. Captain Luv had drawn blood all on his own, the mania had Only come in for the final rapture.
He crouched on the edge of the partially dug grave, two bodies by his side. Proud of himself.
14
The sun flashed off the reservoir like a wild, leaping silver fish that came straight at Tee, blinding him. He sat upon their rock, holding Mrs. Leigh at the only time when she would let him embrace her completely, her face buried in his chest. He touched the tears on her cheek with the tip of his tongue, closing his eyes against the sun. He yearned to tell her that he loved her, at least now, but he knew how she would react. She would squirm away from him and start talking again in her stern, elusive way, half belle, half termagant, talking about anything other than what he had said. She would not tell him she loved him too, he knew that, and her body would transform from soft and yielding to all angles and sharp edges once more.
Instead of speaking he held her just a little tighter, as if he could cling to the moment as well as her body. She was so frail, really. It was only her energy, her restless, nervous energy that made her seem so hard. He could crush her like an eggshell if he wanted to, he told himself. Or he could enfold her with his strength and protect her from everything.
She stiffened in his arms.
"Not yet," he said, thinking she was going to leave him.
"Did you hear that?" and cheep of the forest. "What?"
She pushed away from him. go, " she said, suddenly angry, her voice a hoarse whisper. She was on her feet tugging at her clothes. "Someone coming." She jerked her finger down the hill as if Tee were slow-witted and she were running out of patience.
He listened again, trying to ignore the sounds she made pulling the spandex across her skin. He heard it this time, a footfall, then another. Someone sneaking up on them.
Mrs. Leigh ran deeper into the woods, following the path away from her home, still holding one shoe in her hand. Tee got to his feet, fumbling at his pants, wondering if he should try to scramble down the hill, risk himself at speed on the rocks. The steps came closer, faster, no longer trying to conceal themselves, and suddenly McNeil crested the hill, stepped from around a tree that sheltered the last few feet of the path, smirking, not at all surprised to see the chief of police.
Hey there, Chief." 'What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. Just a lucky guess, I guess." So pleased with himself, but sly, like a weasel, like he knew more than you did, all the time, every time. "You must have forgotten and turned your radio off."
Tee made a dumb show of finding the radio on his belt, pretended surprise that it was off, feeling foolish in the attempt to play McNeil's game.
"What do you want?" Tee asked.
McNeil sidled closer, his face twisted in a lopsided grin' For a moment Tee thought of grabbing the man by the neck and hurling him off the edge of the cliff. Rid himself of embarrassment and suspicions all at once.
Tee listened, heard nothing beyond the constant murmur "Can't really make it out myself," McNeil said. "Metzger's found something and he's all hot to get ahold of YOU."
"Found what?"
"A car, I — think."
"Where-?"
"He wouldn't say, not on the radio. He says he has to talk to you first. You boys got secrets, do you?" McNeil smirked again.
"Let's go then." Tee started to move but McNeil was blocking his path.
The smaller man stood his ground, short and wide, like a pit bull, one hand raised before him. Suddenly Tee felt very vulnerable, standing with his back to the edge, his feet a step or two from empty space.
McNeil reached forward abruptly, his hand shooting toward Tee's chest.
Tee stepped back involuntarily, realized he had overstepped, and flailed his arms to keep his balance.
McNeil grabbed him by the belt and pulled him back to equilibrium on the rock. He arched a brow mockingly.
"Careful there, Chief. You're on dangerous ground."
With exaggerated care and precision, he formed his fingers into pincers and tweezed a long black hair from Tee's shirt. He held it up as if examining it, making sure that Tee saw it too, then blew it away.
I'll kill him, thought Tee. If he threatens me in any way, if he tries to take advantage of this, if he even hints at jeopardizing the rest of my life, I'll kill him. He thought of life without Marge, or the inconceivable pain of losing his daughter, Ginny, through a divorce.