Howie's eyes were on Jo-Beth. "Tell him he's a liar," he said. The girl didn't move. "Jo-Beth? Tell him h-h-he's a liar!"
He had taken the gun out of his jacket-Tesla had seen him drop it in the parking lot; he'd obviously snatched it up again before climbing on the back of the bike-and he waved it in Jo-Beth's general direction.
"I w-w-want you t-t-to tell him!" he yelled at her. "H-hhe's a liar!" Tesla's gaze went from his face to the gun to Jo-Beth to the wet ground, and images of the Mail in Palomo Grove filled her head. Fletcher, soaked in gasoline and eager for death by fire. The gun, clutched in her own hand, ready to strike a spark Not again, she prayed. Please God, not again.
Tommy-Ray was still ranting.
"You never had her, Katz. Not really. You thought you did, but she goes deeper than you could ever get." He jiggled his lips as he spoke.
"Real deep."
Howie looked down at the gasoline around his enemy's feet, and without hesitation, fired. The whole sequence of events-the looking and the firing@ould only have occupied three or four seconds, but it was long enough for Tesla to wonder what place synchronicity had upon the story tree.
Then the spark came, and the flame followed, and the air around Tommy-Ray turned gold.
Howie let out a whoop of triumph. Then he turned his gaze on Jo-Beth.
"You still want him?" he yelled.
Jo-Beth let out a sob. "He loves me," she said.
"No!" Howie yelled, striding towards her now. "No! No! No! I'm the one who loves you-" He stabbed at his chest with his finger. "Always did. Before I met you I loved you-,, As he approached her the fire that had bloomed around the Death-Boy moved across the ground in her direction-. She didn't see it. She was too busy yelling at Howie to Stop, please stop "Howie!" Tesla yelled. He looked her way. "The fire, Howie-"
He saw it now. Dropped his gun and raced towards Jo-Beth, shouting to her as he went. Before he'd halved the distance between them the flames that had obscured the Death-Boy parted like a curtain, and Tommy-Ray strode into view. He was blazing from head to foot; fire spurting from his mouth and eye-sockets, from his belly, from his groin. His immolation seemed not to concern him overmuch, however. He advanced upon his sister with an almost casual lope.
She had seen his approach, and would surely have run from him, but the ground at her feet was alight, and as she retreated the flames ignited her dress. She began to shriek, and beat at the fire with her hands, but it quickly consumed the light fabric, leaving her nearly naked for its play.
Howie was a couple of yards from the flames now, and without hesitation he plunged into them, arms outstretched to claim his wife. But the Death-Boy was a yard from him, and caught hold of his jacket collar in his fiery fist. Howie halfturned to beat him back, grabbing at the shrieking Jo-Beth with his free hand. The fire had reached her long hair, and it suddenly ignited, a column of fire rising off her scalp. Howie reached for her, plainly intending to carry her out of the fire. Her arms were open, and as he took hold of her, they closed around him.
Tesla had witnessed horrors apienty along the road that had brought her to this moment, but nothing-not in the Loop, not at Point Zero-as terrible as this. Jo-Beth was no longer shrieking now. Her body was jerking around as though she was in the throes of a fit, her spasms so violent Howie could not carry her out of the fire. Nor could he detach himself. Her blackened arms were molded around him, keeping him a prisoner in the midst of the pyre.
Tommy-Ray had started to shout now: a shrill, lunatic din. He started to tear Howie away from Jo-Beth, or at least tried to, but the fire had spilled from wife to husband, and their bodies had become a single column of flame and flesh. Jo-Beth's spasms had ceased. She was surely dead. But there was life left in Howie still. Enough to raise his hand behind his wife's head, and let it loll on his shoulder, as though the heat were nothing and they were slow-dancing in the flames.
This tender gesture was his last. His withered legs gave out, and he went down onto his knees, carrying Jo-Beth down with him. He made no sound, even to the last. The couple seemed to kneel face to face in the flames, Howie's hand still cradling Jo-Beth's head, Jo-Beth's head still laid upon Howie's shoulder.
As for Tommy-Ray, he now retreated from the bodies towards the far side of the road, where his ghost-legion lingered after their punishment. Whether at his instruction or no, they came to him, and rose around him, blanketing him. The flames were smothered, and he sank down into the midst of his entourage. Sobs escaped him. So did his sister's name, repeated over and over.
Tesla looked back at the fire around Howie and Jo-Beth. With its fuel almost devoured, it had quickly died down. The bodies were shriveled, but it was still possible to make out their arms, wrapped tightly around one another.
Behind her, Testa heard somebody sob. She didn't bother to turn. She knew who it was.
"Satisfied now?" she said to the little girl. "Going to go home?"
"Soon-" came the reply.
This time it was not the floating voice of the child who replied. Puzzled, Tesia looked round. There was a grassy slope behind her, with perhaps half a dozen large bushes planted upon it, all dead. The three witnesses were perched upon the uppermost branches, but so lightly it seemed unlikely they had any weight whatsoever. they had put off their previous appearances in favor of what Tesla assumed were their real faces. they reminded her of porcelain puppets, their heads small, their features simple, their skin nearly white. they were cocooned, however, in garments of papal excess, layer upon gilded layer. There was very little variation among their appearance, but she assumed the individual closest to her had been little Miss Perfection, by the' way she now addressed Tesla.
"I knew we chose well," she, he, or it said. "You are all we hoped you'd be."
Tesla glanced back at Tommy-Ray. He was still blanketed in mist, still grieving. But he'd come for the child sooner or later. This was no time to be quizzing her unwanted patrons in depth. Just a few questions, and she'd have to go.
"Who the hell are you?"
"We are Jai-Wai," the creature replied. "And I am Rare Utu. Yie and Haheh you already know."
"That doesn't tell me anything," Tesia replied. "I want to know what the fuck you are."
"Too long a story to tell you now," Rare Utu replied.
"Then I'm never going to hear it," Tesia said.
"Perhaps it's better that way," Yie replied. "Better you go on your way."
"Yes, go on," the third of the trio said. "We want to know what happens next-2' "Haven't you seen enough?" Tesla said.
"Never," said Rare Utu, almost sorrowfully. "Buddenbaum showed us so much. So much."
"But never enough," Yie said. "Maybe you should try getting involved," Tesla said.
Rare Utu actually shuddered. "We could never do that," she said.
"Never."
"Then you'll never be satisfied," Tesla said, and turning from them, she started back towards her bike, casting glances at Tommy-Ray now and again. She needn't have worried. He was still smothered in the mists of his legion.
She broke a couple of bungee cords out of the tool box and carefully secured the baby to the back seat. Then she started the engine, half expecting the sound to bring the legion scurrying to find her. But no. When she rounded the corner the Death-Boy and his ghosts had not moved. She drove on past them, glancing back once to see if the Jai-Wai had gone from the slope. they had. They'd had the pleasure of the triple tragedy here, damn them, and moved on to find some other entertainment.
She felt nothing but contempt for them. Plainly they were of some higher order of being, but their vicarious interest in the spectacle of human suffering sickened her. Tommy-Ray couldn't help himself. they could.