through talking to Deny." She sighed. The sound seemed to catch in her throat. After an uncomfortably long pause, she changed the subject. "I don't think Derry's death would make him • • ."
"What would it take?"
"More, just . . . more.". Stephie turned and looked Nohar in the eyes. Her expression seemed to show bewilderment and she smelled of fear, nerves, and confusion. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"
What the hell brought that on? "Of course not, why?"
*'I feel terrible about what I said about Phil snubbing the funeral—"
Nohar restrained the immediate impulse to ask her wiry she was telling him that. Instead, he tried a close-lipped smile. "We all say things we end up regretting. It doesn't mean we're thoughtless."
"It's not just that. My whole life has been a hypocrisy—"
"You don't mean—"
"I know exactly what I mean. I never even was a Binder supporter—I despise the man." She sucked in a shuddering breath. "Me, Phil, and Derry—we were : all playing the twisted charade. All of us hiding because Binder was signing our paychecks."
"What were you hiding?"
- The look in her eyes changed for a moment. Nohar
; > felt like he had let his mouth make a major mistake again. Instead, she smiled, even let out a little laugh.
"I was hiding myself, I guess."
Nohar realized he was only going to get that cryptic comment. He nodded and opened the rear door to let v.. himself out into the rain. The damp soaked into his •* for in a matter of seconds.
* "Thanks for the ride." Nohar didn't know why he J:,fclt obliged, but he added, "I'll give you a call later " on, if I find out anything."
Nohar shut the door and she looked like she still
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couldn't quite believe he was going to walk home without any clothes. "Nohar?" He paused and looked back into the Antaeus,
"Yes?"
"Forget it, never mind. ..." She shook her head and drove the Antaeus into the darkness without an explanation.
Nohar stood and watched it go for a while, wondering.
Moreytown pressed around him. He had three blocks to go, so he started walking. He was safe from the cops here. Moreys were so casual about clothing that trying to enforce pink exposure laws in Moreytown would be impossible.
His lack of attire would only be noted because of the rain, and the time of night. Now all he had to worry about were how many eyes had seen him with the pink female. He nearly made it home— A ratboy bumped into him. No, they wouldn't be that stupid. He was on the wrong side of the street. He was between the abandoned bus and a boarded-up pizzeria. His usual alertness had failed him, and he realized the hospital smell was still clogging his nose.
The familiar-looking ratboy, brown fur and denim cutoffs, rebounded from Nohar's side. "Lookee—"
Now Nohar could catch the rat's musk. The ratboy was flying a wave of excitement, reeked of it. It was Fearless Leader, and he was jacked about as far as a rat could go.
"The stray just ruffed my fur!" Footsteps, two sets at one end of the bus, two at the other. Subordinates. From the look and smell of it, Fearless' boys were jacked worse than he was. Bigboy was there, and he snicked a blade, Nohar should have taken the knife when he had the chance.
Bigboy made a few ineffective waves with his switchblade. "Let's shave the kitty pink."
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93
A chain rattled from the other end of the bus. "Teach some respect for the coat."
Great, they were that stupid.
So much for the Finger of God.
Fearless Leader pulled a gun, a twenty-two. Fortunately, he wasn't doused in gasoline. "We don't like pink moreys. We goina mark you. You move and we veto your pretty kitty ass."
Nohar always held his fighting instinct under iron control. Both nature and the Indian gene-techs had designed his strain for combat, for hunting, for the spilling of blood. Almost always, that part of his soul was at odds with his conscious mind. Nohar thought of it as The Beast.
When Fearless pulled the gun, Nohar felt a shock of adrenaline. His heart began to pound and he felt the rush in his ears and his temples. There was the anticipatory taste of copper in his mouth. His breath like a blast furnace in the back of his throat.
The Beast wanted out. It was scratching at the mental door Nohar always kept locked.
Nohar opened the door and let The Beast take over.
The night snapped into razor-sharp monochrome. The smells erupted into a vivid melange. He could hear the ratboy's heartbeat as well as his own. Time crawled.
The Beast roared.
Nohar roared. The sound bore no trace of his speaking voice. It was a scream of rage that tore the skin from his throat. The ratboys hesitated at the sound. Fearless smelled of fear now, fear that told Nohar he had never seen a morey turn wild before.
Nohar's left arm, the one with restricted mobility, shot out toward Fearless'
gun hand. Nohar grabbed the weapon and turned it toward the ground. There was a snap of bone before the gun blew a hole in the ttde of the bus. Fearless Leader had some control. No scream.
Not until Nohar's right hand, sweeping upward with
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the claws fully extended, caught Fearless between the legs. Nohar didn't simply rake his claws across Fearless' body. His claws came up, point first, and when they bit flesh, jerked up, hooked forward, and partially retracted. Fearless Leader screamed when Nohar lifted him up. Nohar's claws were hooked into the flesh of his groin.
Nohar was jacked higher than the rats now. Fearless Leader's 50 kilos weighed nothing. Fearless slammed into the bus through a broken window. The gun was still in Nohar's left hand. Fearless' hand was still holding it, reaching through the bus window. Nohar yanked the gun away. There was another crack. Bigboy was now within reach, swinging his knife. Nohar pivoted and the knife missed. Nohar's cupped right hand aimed for the eyes as Bigboy passed. Big-boy slipped in the rain before the claws hit him. Lucky. The claws sank in behind the ear and tore off a flap of skin down the left side of Bigboy's face. Nohar's left arm blocked a chain coming at his head. It wrapped around his forearm. He pulled that rat toward him and upward. He sank his teeth into the weapon arm. A toss of Nohar's head disarmed his attacker and dropped the rat off to his right. Into the same puddle that had saved Bigboy's eye.
Two others. They spooked.
Leader in bus. Bigboy huddled in doorway to pizzeria, trying to hold half his face on. Chain trying to stop the bleeding, hand limp, muscle severed. Fight over.
Slowly, Nohar shut the door on The Beast.
The comedown was hard. He began shaking. The rats didn't notice. They had their own problems. That fifteen seconds of savagery had jacked him higher and faster than these ratboys had ever thought of going. The crash wouldVe killed them.
Nohar stumbled across the street and to the door of his building.
When he staggered into his living room, Cat hissed FORESTS OF THE NIGHT 95
at him. Nohar was covered in rat blood. He wobbled into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and spilled Cat's food all over the counter.
It would have to do, for now.
Nohar dragged himself into the bathroom and slumped into the shower. He turned on a blast of cold water.
Dipping into his reserve as a bioengineered weapon had its price.
When Nohar woke up, the shower was still going full blast. Cat was asleep on the lid of the John, and the only remains of the night's activity was the taste of blood in his mouth. The bandage on his shoulder fell off the moment he moved. It revealed a puckered red wound where they had dug out Young's bullet. There was a shaved area around it the size of his hand. The flesh was a pale white, contrasting with Nohar's russet-and-black fur. Nohar quickly looked away from it. The skin made him uncomfortable.