Clive Barker - The Great and Secret Show

"Just a little hope I had."

"How many Trinities can there be?" he said. "It shouldn't be that hard to find out."

"Where from? Abernethy?"

"I could start with him," Grillo said. "He's a Godfearing man. Or at least he claims to be. Is it that important?"

"At this stage everything's important," she said.

"I'll get on to it," he replied, "if the phone lines are still working. You just want to know—"

"Anything about the Trinity. Anything. "

"Hard facts, that's what I like," he said. "Hard facts."

He headed off down the stairs. As he did so Tesla heard Jaffe mutter:

"Look away, Tommy. Just look away—"

He'd closed his eyes. Now he began to shake.

"Can you see them?" she said to him.

"It's so dark."

"Can you see them?"

"I can see something moving. Something huge. So huge. Why don't you move, boy? Get away before they see you. Move!"

His eyes suddenly sprang open.

"Enough!" he said.

"Have you lost him?" Tesla said.

"I told you: enough!"

"He's not dead?"

"No, he's...he's riding the waves."

"Surfing on Quiddity?" she said.

"Doing his damnedest."

"And the Iad?"

"Are behind him. I was right, the tide has changed. They're coming."

"Describe what you saw," she said.

"I told you. They're vast."

"That's all?"

"Like mountains, moving. Mountains covered in locusts, or fleas. Big and small. I don't know. None of it makes much sense."

"Well we just have to close the schism as quickly as we can. Mountains I can take. But let's keep the fleas out, huh?"

Hotchkiss was at the front door when they got down there. Grillo had already spoken to him about the Trinity, and he had a better idea than asking Abernethy.

"There's a book store in the Mall," he said. "Do you want me to go look up Trinities there?"

"It can't hurt," Tesla said. "If the Trinity scared Kissoon, maybe it'll scare his paymasters. Where's Grillo?"

"Out looking for a car. He'll take you up the Hill. That's where you're both going?" He glanced in Jaffe's direction, repugnance on his face.

"That's where we're going," Tesla said. "And that's where we'll stay. So you know where to find us."

"Right to the end?" Hotchkiss said, not taking his eyes off Jaffe.

"Right to the end."

Grillo had found and hot-wired a car that had been left in the motel lot.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" she asked him as they drove up towards the Hill. The Jaff sat slumped on the back seat, his eyes closed.

"I did a piece, way back in my investigative phase—"

"On car thieves?"

"That's right. I picked up a few tricks of the trade, and I've never forgotten them. I'm a mine of useless information. Always something new out of Grillo."

"But nothing about Trinity?"

"You keep coming back to that."

"Desperation," she said. "We haven't got much else to hold on to."

"Maybe it's something to do with what D'Amour said, about the Savior."

"A last-minute intervention from on high?" Tesla said. "I'm not going to hold my breath waiting."

"Shit."

"Problem?"

"Up ahead."

A crevasse had opened up at the intersection they were approaching. It was across both street and sidewalk. There was no way past it up the Hill.

"We'll have to try another way," Grillo said. He put the car into reverse, backed up, and took a cross-street for three blocks. There was evidence of the Grove's growing instability on every side. Lampposts and trees felled, sidewalks buckled, water running from fractured pipes.

"It's all going to blow," Tesla said.

"Ain't that the truth."

The next street he tried gave them clear access to the Hill, and they headed up. As they began the ascent Tesla caught sight of a second car, coming off the feed road from the freeway. It wasn't a police car, unless the local cops had taken up driving Volkswagens and painting them fluorescent yellow.

"Foolhardy," she said.

"What is?"

"Somebody coming back into town."

"Probably a salvage operation," Grillo said. "People taking what they can, while they can."

"Yep."

The color of the car, so garishly inappropriate, lingered with her for a little while. She wasn't sure why; perhaps because it was so very West Hollywood, and she doubted she'd ever see her apartment in North Huntley Drive again.

"Looks like we've got a welcome committee," Grillo said.

"Perfect movie moment," Tesla said. "Step on it, driver."

"Lousy dialogue."

"Just drive."

Grillo swerved to avoid collision with the patrol car, put his foot on the accelerator, and was past the vehicle before its driver had a chance to block him.

"There'll be more at the top," he said.

Tesla looked back at the car they'd left behind. There was no attempt to give chase. Its driver would simply be alerting the rest of the unit.

"Do whatever you've got to do," Tesla told Grillo.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning trash 'em if they get in our way. We've got no time to make nice."

"The house is going to be crawling with cops," he warned.

"I doubt it," she said. "I think they'll be keeping their distance."

She was right. As they came in sight of Coney Eye it was apparent that the patrolmen had decided this whole mess was beyond them. The cars were parked well down from the gate, the men themselves standing a good way behind their vehicles. Most were just staring up at the house, but there was a contingent of four officers waiting at a barricade that had been set up, blocking the Hill.

"You want me to drive straight through?" Grillo said.

"Damn right!"

He put his foot down. Two of the quartet ahead went for their guns; the other two threw themselves aside. Grillo rammed the barricade at speed. The wood splintered and broke, a piece shattering the windshield. He thought he heard a shot in the confusion but as he was still driving, assumed it hadn't killed him. The car struck one of the patrol vehicles a glancing blow, its back end slewing around and striking another, before Grillo regained control and headed it for the open gates of Buddy Vance's house. Engine revved, they roared up the driveway.

"Nobody's following," Tesla said.

"I don't fucking blame them," Grillo replied. As they reached the bend in the driveway he put on the brakes. "This is near enough," he said. "Jesus. Will you look at that?"

"I'm looking."

The facade of the house resembled a cake that had been left out all night in a heavy rain, the whole thing softened and thrown out of whack. There were no straight lines in the door frames, no right angles in the windows—even those at the very top of the house. The power Jaffe had unleashed here had sucked everything towards its maw, distorting the bricks, the tiles, the panes of glass; the whole house tending towards the schism. When Tesla and Grillo had staggered out through the doorway the place had been a maelstrom, but the hole, once opened, seemed to be pacified. There was no sign of further violence. There was no doubting the proximity of the schism, however. When they stepped from the car they felt its energies in the air. It made the hair on the back of their necks stand up straight, and their guts shudder. It was as quiet as the eye of a hurricane. A tremulous calm just begging to be broken.

Tesla glanced through the car window at their passenger. Jaffe, sensing her scrutiny, opened his eyes. The fear in him was perfectly plain. However much skill he'd had at concealing his feelings in the past—and she suspected he'd had much—he was beyond such pretenses now.

"Do you want to come see?" she said.

He didn't leap at the offer, so she left him where he was. She had a duty to perform before they actually ventured inside, and she could give him time to work up his courage while she performed it. She headed back the way they'd come, until she emerged from behind the line of palms that bordered the driveway. The cops had followed as far as the gate, but no further. It occurred to her that it wasn't simply fear that kept them from following, but orders from their superiors. She didn't dare hope the cavalry would be rolling up the Hill in the next few minutes, but perhaps they were mustering, and these footsoldiers had been instructed to keep their distance until the full force arrived. They were certainly nervous. She emerged with her hands up, to face a row of levelled muzzles.