“But now I’m helping you.”
“Apparently.”
“How come?”
“I don’t really know. I think you feel sorry for me.”
“Sorry for a mortal?”
“I don’t really know. I’m not sure you do either.”
“You could just be telling me all this too.”
“I could. But I could have not told you you’re my demon at all and you wouldn’t know any better.”
“How’d we end up in this, this situation?”
Niko barks a laugh and feels a sudden craving for a cigarette. He drives, and as he drives he talks to the advancing night that never tires of its own disgorgement. And for once he tells the dark the truth. And for once the darkness listens.
“SO THAT’S THE deal.” Niko’s throat is raspy and he wants a drink. Water, but he’d chug a double whiskey without a thought. He’s exhausted and his side is throbbing where his rib is fractured and the pain is probably all that’s keeping him awake by now. They’ve left behind the plain of ice and drive again upon the barren floor of Hell. Somewhere in the gloom a mountain rises, somewhere on its face a fallen god is chained. Far ahead a thin black thread has formed the flat horizon of the Ledge. Niko watches as it slowly thickens and he clears his throat. The heater’s off now. The windows are open and a hot and septic wind plays through the spacious car.
“And this is all true,” says Nikodemus.
Niko’s very aware his demon literally holds Jemma’s life in his—well, his tendrils. “Every damned word.”
“And if I go back they’ll obliterate me.”
“After they hurt you a lot for a long time, yeah. That’s what you said.”
Shadows shift as the jar is held up and turned about. “Will my memory come back?”
“Mine did. Eventually. I don’t think it’s gone, I think you just can’t get to it.” Now he sees the faint outlines of the ascending hills of the mounded dead fallen from the Ramp. The Meat Pie Mountains.
“Okay,” his demon finally says.
Niko frowns at the prow of the car plowing the dark. “Okay what?”
“Okay, I guess Nikodemus is an all right name.”
Tears sting Niko’s eyes. “Okay,” he says. As much to himself as to his darker version.
“So what do we do now?”
“Is anyone behind us?”
“Not a soul.”
“Okay then.” Niko takes a deep breath and yawns deeply and arches on the seat and stretches to his fingertips. He shakes his head and rubs his heavy eyelids. “Now we teach you how to drive a stick shift.”
HE WAS ROWING on Lake Arrowhead. The water red and the sky dark. From the bow Jemma grinned at him and said Pass me a bun, hon. Niko shipped oars and picked up the paper sack from the seat beside him. When he opened it something green and glowing flew out and disappeared into the sky. He smelled Jem’s perfume. He looked at Jem to ask her if she’d seen what just happened but Jem had turned into a husk. Her body collapsed as he watched. He knew he had to get her back to shore and get the green thing back into the sack but when he picked up oars again he saw there was no shore. Only bloodred water far as he could see. He called her name. Not to the empty Jemma suit that rippled like paper in the breeze but to the vacant air. He began to row without direction. Calling and calling her name.
“Hey. Wake up.”
“Mnmn.”
“Niko. Come on, get up.”
Niko opens bleary eyes to find himself on the back seat curled around the mason jar as if he’s cold and it gives forth some form of heat. He sits up and his injuries are tallied and handed to him in one lump sum. An invisible knife is wedged between his ribs. His shoulders throb and his feet ache and his neck is stiff. “Whadissit. Jus laid down.”
“You’ve been asleep for two and a half hours.”
This wakes him up a bit. “Are we there yet?”
“Not quite. But we have company.”
“Um gotta pee.”
“Can’t help you there, buddy pal.”
“Who, who’s behin us?” Niko feels as if he’s trying to think thoughts his brain is too small to contain.
“I don’t know. Headlights.”
Niko blinks. “A car.”
“Niko, you have to wake up. I’ll never get this thing up the Ramp. It’s all I can do to drive it straight with nothing around us.”
“Nnkay.” Feeling drugged unsteady he carefully sets the jar on the front seat beside Nikodemus and climbs over the seatback like an old man. Nikodemus’ bulk takes up most of the space in the front of the sedan. Riding shotgun for a moment Niko collects his wits and stares at the obsidian Nothing filling the windshield. “Where the hell are we?”
“Coming up on the Ramp.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“That’s the Ledge. It’s so big you can’t see it all. Here.” He turns right and the Franklin angles more obliquely toward the infinitely wide upthrust fault. Now Niko sees the distant knife edge of the Ramp itself against the vast undifferentiated black of the Ledge’s face, angling down until it merges with the Lower Plain. The Meat Pie Mountains begin as small hills at the foot of the Ramp, undulating ever taller off into the starless distance. Beyond that a dull glint from the sluggish surface of the sea of blood.
Nikodemus steers them straight toward the Ledge again and once again the view is vacant black. It looks simultaneously as if the car is floating motionless in an empty universe and as if it’s constantly about to hit a wall.
“Go straight again. That’s making me sick.”
“Screws up your perspective doesn’t it?” Nikodemus turns the wheel. “I see what you mean about the car. It doesn’t like being driven.”
“Mmm. I wasn’t kidding about needing to pee.”
Nikodemus grins and holds out the mason jar.
“Aren’t you a fucking riot.”
“You could try peeing out the window.”
“Look, I’ve learned I’m capable of a lot of uncivilized things. But I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Niko clamps his knees together. “How far back are they?” Nikodemus’ head swivels far enough to break a human neck. “Eleven and a half miles.”
“I don’t think I can hold it till the next gas station. Better stop.” Immediately Nikodemus whips a tendril around the shift lever and puts the car in neutral and hits the brakes. They’re still creeping along when Niko jumps out and tears open his fly. And stands there waiting and feeling foolish.
“I thought you had to pee.”
“Quit staring.”
The demon looks puzzled. “Whyyyy?”
“Stop looking at me dammit.”
Shaking his gargoyle head Nikodemus lets the clutch out with the Franklin in gear and the big car bucks like a bronco and stalls. Nikodemus lets it roll a few feet. Brakelights make the patch of plain look like the surface of Mars. Nikodemus starts the car but forgets to take it out of gear and the Franklin lurches and stalls again.
“Oh heck” from inside and then the engine starts.
Niko finds himself staring at a pristine vintage car idling on the floor of Hell while he holds his penis in his hand and tries to pee. Yessir, I’m on me a heroic epic type journey.
Something monstrous shrieks nearby. Niko jumps back and pees on his own shoe before he realizes it’s Nikodemus leaning on the Black Taxi’s horn. Niko shouts God damn it and his knees buckle as the ground quakes and a roaring spreads across the sunless sky.
As quickly as it came the tectonic spasm passes. Niko runs for the car.
“Now you’ve done it,” says Nikodemus.
“Slide.”
“I was just getting good at this.” But Nikodemus slides and watches Niko put the car in gear and get them moving again.