Clive Barker - The Great and Secret Show

Instantly, light.

The light of the Loop's perpetual dawn, pouring in through the door. With it the same wind that had blown on her face whenever she'd been here. It blew through the hallway, and took a portion of the Iad's taint with it, off across the wasteland. With its passing she saw the glazed look leaving Grillo's face. He grabbed hold of the door jamb, squinting against the light and shaking his head like a dog maddened with fleas.

With their maker wounded, the Lix had left off their attack, but she didn't hope they'd leave her be for long. Before he could redirect them she made for the door, pausing only to push Grillo ahead of her.

"What in God's name have you done?" he said as they stepped out on to bleached desert earth.

She hurried him away from the relocated rooms, which without a structure around them to spread the load of Quiddity's breakers were already coming apart at every corner.

"You want the good news or the bad?" she said.

"The good."

"This is the Loop. I brought part of the house through—"

Now she'd done it she could barely believe she'd succeeded.

"I did," she said, as though Grillo had contradicted her. "Fuck me, I did!"

"Including the Iad?" Grillo said.

"The schism and whatever's on the other side came too."

"So what's the bad news?"

"This is Trinity, remember? Point Zero?"

"Oh Jesus."

"And that—" she pointed to the steel tower, which was no more than a quarter of a mile from where they stood, "— is the bomb."

"So when does it blow? Have we got time—"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe it won't detonate as long as Kissoon's alive. He's held that moment, all these years."

"Is there any way out?"

"Yes."

"Which direction? Let's do it."

"Don't waste time wishing, Grillo. We're not getting out of here alive."

"You can think us out. You thought us in."

"No. I'm staying. I have to see it to the end."

"This is the end," he said, pointing back towards the fragment of the house. "Look."

The walls were toppling in clouds of plaster dust, as Quiddity's waves were thrown against them. "How much more end do you want? Let's get the fuck out of here."

Tesla looked for some sign of either Kissoon or Jaffe in the confusion, but the ether of the dream-sea was spilling out in all directions, too thick now to be dispersed by the wind. They were in it somewhere, but out of sight.

"Tesla? Are you listening to me?"

"The bomb won't go till Kissoon's dead," she said. "He's holding the moment—"

"So you said."

"If you want to run for the exit, you might make it. It's in that direction." She pointed beyond the cloud through the town and out the other side. "You'd better get going."

"You think I'm a coward."

"Did I say that?"

A wave of ether curled towards them.

"If you're going to go, go," she said, her gaze fixed on the rubble of Coney Eye's lounge and hall. Above it, just visible through Quiddity's spillage, was the schism, hanging in the air. It doubled in size in the space between blinks, tearing itself open. She readied herself for the sight of the giants. But it was human forms she saw first, two of them, thrown up and out on to this arid shore.

"Howie?" she said.

It was. And beside him, Jo-Beth. Something had happened to them, she saw. Their faces and bodies were a mass of growths, as though their tissue had sprouted some vile blossom. She braved the next wave of ether to go back to them, shouting their names as she went. It was Jo-Beth who looked up first. Leading Howie by the hand she sought Tesla out in the turmoil.

"This way," Tesla said. "You have to get away from the hole—"

The tainted ether was inducing nightmares. They itched to be seen. But Jo-Beth seemed able to think her way through them to a simple question.

"Where are we?"

There was no simple answer.

"Grillo will tell you," she said. "Later. Grillo?"

He was there, already getting that same distracted look she'd seen in his eyes at the door of Coney Eye.

"Children," he said. "Why's it always children?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she told him. "Listen to me, Grillo."

"I'm...listening," he said.

"You wanted to get out. I told you the way, remember?"

"Through the town."

"Through the town."

"Out the other side."

"Right."

"Take Howie and Jo-Beth with you. Maybe you can still outrun it."

"Outrun what?" Howie said, only raising his head with difficulty. It was weighed down with monstrous growths.

"The Iad or the bomb," Tesla told him. "Take your pick. Can you run?"

"We can try," Jo-Beth said. She looked at Howie. "We can try."

"Then go to it. All of you."

"I still...don't see..." Grillo began, his voice betraying the Iad's influence.

"Why I have to stay?"

"Yes."

"It's simple," she said. "This is the final trial. All things to all men, remember?"

"Damn stupid," he said, holding her gaze, as though the sight of her helped him keep the insanity at bay.

"Damn right," she said.

"So many things..." he said.

"What?"

"I haven't said to you."

"You didn't need to. And I hope neither did I."

"You were right."

"Except one. Something I should have told you."

"What?"

"I should have said—" she began; then grinned a wide, almost ecstatic grin that she didn't need to fake because it came from some contented place in her; and with it terminated her sentence as she'd terminated so many telephone calls between them and turned away, heading off into the next wave out of the schism, where she knew he couldn't follow.

Somebody was coming her way; another swimmer in the dream-sea, thrown up on the beach.

Tommy-Ray, the Death-Boy. The changes wrought in Jo-Beth and Howie had been profound, but they were kindness itself compared with what he'd sustained. His hair was still Malibu gold, and his face still bore the grin which had once charmed Palomo Grove to its knees. But his teeth were not the only gleam about him. Quiddity had bleached his flesh so that it resembled bone. His brows and cheeks had swollen up, his eyes sunk. He looked like a living skull. He wiped a thread of saliva from his chin with the back of his hand, the pinpoints of his gaze directed past Tesla to where his sister stood.

"Jo-Beth..." he said, moving through the wash of dark air. Tesla saw Jo-Beth look back towards him, then take a step away from Howie as though she was ready to part from him. Though she had urgent business to finish Tesla could not help but watch, as Tommy-Ray moved to claim his sister. The love that had ignited between Howie and Jo-Beth had begun this whole story, or at least its most recent chapter. Was it possible that Quiddity had undone that love?

She had the answer a beat later, as Jo-Beth took a second step from Howie's side, till they were at arm's length, her right hand still holding his left. With a thrill of comprehension Tesla saw what Jo-Beth was displaying to her brother. She and Howie Katz were not simply holding hands. They were joined. Quiddity had fused them, their interlocked fingers became a knot of forms that bound them together.

There was no need for words. Tommy-Ray let out a shout of disgust, and stopped in his tracks. Tesla could not see the expression on his face. Most probably there was none. Skulls could only grin and grimace; opposites collided in one expression. She saw Jo-Beth's look, however, even through the intervening murk. There was a little pity in it. But only a little. The rest was dispassion.

Tesla saw Grillo speak, words to summon the lovers away. They went immediately; all three. Tommy-Ray didn't move to follow.

"Death-Boy?" she said.

He looked around at her. The skull was still capable of tears. They welled on the curve of his sockets.