Niko holds the jack steady while the cabbie works the lever. The lifting arm touches the doorframe and metal begins to creak. The car flinches and the cabbie draws back with her eyes wide and the jackhandle coming up to strike. But there’s nothing to hit really and she glances again at Niko and goes back to work. “We need a jaws of life,” she says.
“I’m surprised you don’t have one in that trunk.”
The opening groans wider and soon Niko reaches inside the Black Taxi and grabs Nikodemus’ inert body while the cabbie sits on the crumpled hood with both legs through the windshield frame and both feet pushing on the demon’s burly bleeding shoulder. They get him loose enough that the cabbie can come around behind Niko and pull on Nikodemus’ naked legs while Niko leans into the desecrated car and guides the body under the wedging jack. On the deformed dashboard past the bent steering wheel he glimpses the tripmeter he reset at zero when he left the casino. The numbers now read 31415. Above it the odometer shows a row of zeroes.
Something tickles Niko’s arm and he jerks away. Beside Nikodemus on what’s left of the passenger side in the middle of a pile of shattered glass and stringy entrails a severed doghead the size of a beachball lies crushed. What fur is not peeled back to show bare skull is matted with blood. Inches from Niko rotted yellow teeth the size of fingers clack. A single brown and insane eye glares pure malice at him.
“On three,” the cabbie calls behind him.
Niko scrunches away from the doghead and braces both hands on Nikodemus’ shoulders. With the demon’s legs hoisted underneath her arms the cabbie calls out One two three and Niko pushes and the cabbie pulls and Nikodemus comes free and spills stillborn from the car.
The disembodied dog’s jaws snap frantically and Niko jerks away and bangs his head against the buckled roof hard enough to scatter pinprick lights. He blinks and shakes his head and carefully backs out of the murdered Franklin. Niko and the cabbie grab a tendril apiece. The whiplike tentacles are smooth and muscled as any strong arm and not reptilian at all.
Niko and the cabbie drag his demon through the wreckage, mopping a swath through blood gas bile glass ichor oil meat and metal. Niko’s bruised shoulder feels as if it’s glowing.
“Jeez, what is this guy, a statue?”
Niko stops beside the mason jar. “I need that.”
The cabbie wipes sweat from her brow as Niko carefully lifts the jar until he holds it against his hurting ribcage. The smell of perfume definitely fainter now. He nods at the cabbie and they start pulling again. One more step remains to take him past the threshold and at long last out of here. Niko is about to take it when he hears a voice.
“Leaving without saying goodbye, Niko-tizer?”
Niko stops. He expected something like this. “I’ve already said everything I have to say to you,” he tells the air before him.
“Not to me, Nikster. To her.”
And Niko hears the only thing that could stop him as no wall or beast or power has stopped him all this awful time.
“Niko,” says Jemma.
NIKO DROPS THE mason jar.
It lands on Nikodemus’ belly. He lowers Nikodemus and straightens feeling cold. As if a rifle’s pointed at his back.
“Niko. Where are you going?”
Niko shuts his eyes. She sounds so afraid.
“What’s wrong?” the cabbie asks.
“Niko please.”
Niko stands stock still with eyes clamped shut. “You don’t hear that, do you?”
“Don’t hear what?” says Jemma.
“Hear what?” says the cabbie.
Niko opens his eyes. The yellow Checker Cab roughly idling ten feet away. The rear door open. Yellow dome light inviting as a fire on a cold night.
“Niko, I don’t understand. Why are you leaving me here?”
“You okay?” the cabbie says.
I could just go. Pick up the jar and drag Nikodemus and be out of here. Nothing to it. He looks at the jar trembling on Nikodemus’ belly.
“Niko?” Doubt cloud’s Jemma’s voice.
“I need a second,” Niko tells the cabbie.
“He needs a second, folks,” says Phil behind him, laughing now. “Maybe it’s just occurred to this fuckup junky that he’s about to trade his little sweetie pie for a jelly jar and a feather dipped in glowing paint. Which this numbnuts got from us. That’s how dumb this asshole is. He’ll waltz out of here with that thing like it’s a midway prize he just paid fifty bucks to win while we all laugh our ass off here. Wind him up and watch him go, every friggin time. It’s better than tee vee.”
Niko stares at the jar. The hoops they’ve made him jump through. It would be so like them.
But how to know? Could he learn anything by opening it? Or will her spirit rush from its container? It’s another highnote test. How can he learn if this is Jemma without destroying what is Jemma?
“Look at him, darlin. Your little white knight’s about to leave you to the wolves and sail on out of here. He’ll probably even tell himself it’s all his fault. Later on, of course, when there’s nothing anyone can do about it. You know why?”
“Niko please,” calls Jem. “I’m sca—”
“Cause he’s a martyr, pusspie. That’s why. He’s happier suffering on his cross than getting his sorry ass off of it. He always was. Why else would he fuck this up every time it all goes down.” Phil laughs. “He knows it’s you he’s leaving. The poor dumb bastard can’t suffer if he gets the girl. How he gon play de blues good iffin he don feel bad? You done been sacrifice fo art, babygirl. Aint that right, Niko-lostomy? You’d sell your mother for a song if it was sad enough. Wouldn’t you?”
“Jem,” says Niko.
“Niko don’t listen to him. I know you love me.” He can hear her crying now. “Just get me out of here. Take me home.”
Home. That’s good. Niko looks at the cabbie. “Do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Anything,” says Jemma.
“Look behind me and tell me what you see.”
“Niko—”
“I see the gate. I see the wreck.”
“Niko, what are you—”
“Some guy in sunglasses and a sportcoat who looks like he wants to sell us something.”
“Niko who is this woman, why won’t you talk to—”
“I see our old pal in the chauffeur outfit trying to stare a hole in me.”
“Don’t leave me here Niko you can’t—”
“There’s a couple dozen scary monsters who look like they belong with your buddy here.”
“You can’t just walk away from me—”
“They’ve got their backs to us and they’re guarding the gate against a lot of naked people who look like they want out real bad.” She spreads her hands.
“No one else?”
The cabbie shakes her head.
“You don’t need me anymore, is that it, Niko? You used me like you used everyone you ever met, used me up and threw me in the trash, and now you’re going to leave without looking back. Is that right?”
Niko nods at the cabbie. His face stone.
“Is it worth it, Niko? Worth being a selfish son of a bitch who lets his dead brother take the fall because he doesn’t have enough spine to face up to what he did? Who steals money from his friends to buy drugs and steals their talent to make albums? Who eats up the best years of someone’s life because he can’t stand to be alone? Who lets her love him and then sells her down the river to save himself. I’m here forever Niko. For ever. I loved you and you pawned me like a watch.”
“Anything else?” His voice sounds odd, his voice sounds old. “Tell me to my face,” says Jemma. “Be a man and look me in the eye and tell me you’re letting me go.”