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"It's just about ready, Hell."

"Great."

"What're you doing out there?"

"Jackin' off in my mind."

The door slammed. Tanner sat there for a few more minutes, and a light rain began to fall, taking the bright gleam off the world, silencing the rubbish, drenching the bird in its tree and the rats in their lairs, tickling his face, spattering his boots, raising a smell like ashes from the earth. He stood then and entered the garage, shaking droplets from his beard.

"All set," said Monk, gesturing at the car. "Want to Wait and see if the rain stops?"

"No. It'll probably start to get dark again soon."

"Probably."

They moved to a window. For the space of a few breaths, they watched the rain. Outside, the people still lined the streets.

"Dumb bastards," said Tanner. "Don't know enough to get in out of it."

"They're determined to see us off."

"Well, we'll give them a show then, lay down a little rubber. Might as well open the doors now, Monk."

"Thanks for the breakfast," said Greg.

"It's the least I could do."

"What happened to that guy?" Greg asked.

"Who?"

"Blinky. The one who had the accident."

"Oh. He's in the hospital. The cops took him in to get him patched up, and he had a heart attack there. They're giving him oxygen now. He was a small-town crook, record long as your arm. Not worth a damn. Can't say he's any loss."

"Too bad."

Monk shrugged. "That's what he gets for busting in and falling all over himself. So you're taking Forty, huh?"

Greg looked at Hell.

"That's right," Tanner said. "Who eats the Gila Monsters?"

"Huh?"

"We've got big snakes that the Gilas chorrfp up, along with a lot of other things, like bison and coyotes and God knows what all, and there's big bats that eat off the mutie fruit trees down Mexico way, and some freak spiders that feed on anything comes into their nets. But who eats the Gilas? A guy named Alex back home was telling me that since everything eats something else, then something had to have it in for the Gilas. I couldn't answer him, though. Do you know?"

"The butterflies," said Monk, "is what I've heard."