pzb.lostsouls-第38节

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　　〃Because　of　you；〃　Twig　growled。
　　Nothing　could　feel　Twig's　hands　trembling　in　his　grasp；　aching　to　go　for　his　throat。　He　knew　Twig　could　kill　him　in　a　heartbeat。　'Then　save　me　for　him。　Let　him　punish　me　for　getting　him　hurt。　He'll　be　pissed　if　he　es　round　and　you've　already　sucked　me　dry；　won't　he？〃
　　Now　Nothing　was　sure　Twig　wanted　to　rip　his　throat　open。　Molochai　would　do　it　if　Twig　did。　They　would　kill　him　and　then　tear　into　Steve　and　Ghost。　Nothing　met　Twig's　eyes　and　held　them。　Twig　was　wilder　and　meaner；　oh　yes；　Twig　was　the　badass　here。
　　But　Nothing　was　smarter。
　　〃Zillah's　lying　there　bleeding；〃　he　said。　〃If　you　won't　help　me；　I'll　carry　him　out　myself。　But　he'll　know　what　happened。〃
　　He　jerked　away　from　Twig　and　tensed；　ready　to　fight　if　Twig　lunged　at　him。
　　Twig's　eyes　blazed　feral　light。　
　　Nothing　blazed　right　back　at　him。　
　　And　Twig's　eyes　dropped。
　　
　　Later；　Steve　would　be　unable　to　find　the　right　words　to　tell　Ghost　how　he　had　felt　in　the　next　few　moments。　Ghost　got　it　anyway；　of　course；　but　not　because　of　Steve's　attempt　to　describe　it。
　　The　atmosphere　in　the　room　changed　subtly。　It　had　been　electric；　dangerous；　full　of　blood　and　the　possibility　of　murder。　But　then　something　happened。
　　Steve　considered　himself　much　less　perceptive　than　he　really　was。　What　he　would　say　to　Ghost　later　was　〃If　even　I　could　feel　it；　it　must　have　been　there。〃　It　was　as　if　the　kid　were　putting　out　pheromones　or　something。　Something　that　felt　（he　would　shake　his　head　and　laugh　a　little；　saying　these　words）　like　the　essence　of　childhood　lost。　This　was　baby　powder　and　cigarette　smoke；　forgotten　toys　and　eyeliner　and　torn　black　lace；　nursery　rhymes　and　clank　nightclub　restrooms　haunted　by　a　breath　of　vomit。　This　was　the　distilled　essence　of　all　that　was　lost　forever　and　all　that　came　to　replace　it。
　　I'm　twenty…three　years　old；　thought　Steve；　though　he　didn't　know　why。　I'm　supposed　to　be　a　grown…up。　This　game　is　for　keeps。　No　one　is　ever　going　to　e　along　and　make　everything　all　right　for　me　again；　because　no　one　can。
　　Then　all　at　once　the　strangeness　was　gone　from　the　room；　and　there　was　only　the　electric　tension　again。　But　it　did　not　feel　quite　so　murderous　now。
　　〃You　help　me　carry　him；〃　Nothing　told　Molochai。　Then　he　glanced　back　at　Twig。　〃'You　go　on　out　and　start　the　van。〃
　　Twig's　eyes　flared　again；　and　for　a　moment　Steve　thought　the　kid　had　pushed　it　too　far。　But　Twig　just　exhaled　noisily…Steve　smelled　rotten　blood…and　left　the　room。
　　Nothing　and　Molochai　got　Zillah's　arms　around　their　necks　and　helped　him　up。　Nothing　looked　at　Steve　with　wide　brimming　eyes；　trying　to　smile。　Sadness　and　pride　warred　in　his　face。　〃I　didn't　let　them　hurt　you；〃　he　said。　〃Now　maybe　you'll　believe　me。　I　never　meant　for　any　of　this　to　happen。〃
　　Now　that　the　fight　was　ebbing　out　of　him；　Steve　felt　weaker　by　the　minute。　〃I　just　want　you　out　of　here；〃　he　said。　〃All　of　you。〃
　　〃We're　going。　Don't　worry。〃　Nothing　glanced　at　Ghost；　and　his　carefully　posed　expression　seemed　to　crumble　a　little；　but　he　caught　it　quickly。
　　Steve's　anger　lessened　as　he　looked　at　the　kid。　Scruffy　and　none　too　clean；　in　ragged　clothes　and　that　damn　phony…looking　black　dye　job；　looking　as　if　he　hadn't　had　a　good　night's　sleep　or　a　decent　meal　in　weeks；　there　was　nonetheless　a　strange；　innocent　dignity　to　him。　His　features　were　clear　and　heartbreakingly　young；　and　when　he'd　stood　up　with　Zillah　leaning　against　him；　a　kind　of　holiness　had　broken　over　his　face。　A　sense　of　rightness；　of　arriving　at　a　place　he　had　been　seeking　for　a　long　time。
　　Next　to　him；　the　creeps　looked　worse　than　ever。
　　
　　Ghost　stared　at　Nothing。　As　he　had　e　awake；　he　had　known　something　about　Nothing；　about　his　past。　A　baby…a　jumble　of　bright　festive　streets…a　spreading　pool　of　blood　on　a　hardwood　floor。　He　had　known　that　somehow　Nothing　was　connected　to　the　bad　times　that　were　ing；　maybe　already　here。　Most　of　it　was　gone　now；　though　he　knew　he　could　get　it　back　if　he　tried。
　　Instead　Ghost　did　something　he　could　not　remember　doing　before；　not　ever。　He　tried　to　block　Nothing　out。　He　tried　to　keep　his　mind　from　touching　Nothing's；　from　sharing　Nothing's　secrets。　He　did　not　want　to　know　who　Nothing　really　was；　or　where　he　had　e　from；　or　where　he　was　going。　He　did　not　want　to　feel　this　boy's　pain　because　he　could　not　lessen　it。　Nothing　was　lost。　He　might　not　know　it　yet　but；　what　frightened　Ghost　still　more；　he　might　know　it。　He　might　know　it　very　well。　He　might　have　chosen　it。
　　Zillah　swayed　against　his　two　supporters；　nearly　unconscious。　Beneath　the　blood　and　the　swelling　his　face　was　androgynous　and　achingly　beautiful　in　the　way　that　a　statue　or　a　mask　might　be　beautiful…smooth　and　symmetrical；　but　cold。　Bloomless。　His　lips；　purple　with　lipstick　and　gore；　stretched　tight　across　his　broken　teeth。　His　slitted　eyes　burned　bitter；　the　color　of　poison。
　　〃Is　he　okay？〃　asked　Ghost。　〃Is　he…〃　He　stopped；　his　eyes　widening。　A　low　sexless　voice　had　begun　to　speak　within　his　head。
　　No；　I'm　not　okay；　it　said。　I　am　in　terrible　pain　because　your　idiot　friend　surprised　me　with　his　baseball　bat　and　my　own　lover　betrayed　me　for　the　sake　of　your　worthless　songs。　So　what？　I　can　take　pain。　It　will　pass。　And　if　I　choose　to　return　and　take　my　pain　out　of　your　hide；　I　will；　my　pretty　seer。　Or；　if　you　like；　I'll　shove　my　tongue　down　your　throat　and　corrupt　you　with　my　spit。　Or；　if　you　prefer；　I'll　unzip　your　skin　and　kiss　you　with　your　own　heart…blood　on　my　lips。　Are　you　tempted　yet？
　　〃No；〃　said　Ghost。　〃Get　out　of　my　head。〃　He　was　not　sure　if　he　had　spoken　aloud；　it　didn't　matter。　He　knew　Zillah　could　hear　him。　The　voice　crested　into　laughter；　lewd　and　savage。　Ghost　thought　of　a　blank　soul；　a　being　with　no　morals　and　no　passions　except　those　that　could　be　gratified　at　a　moment's　notice；　a　mad　child　allowed　to　rage　out　of　control。
　　Now　Ghost　could　only　see　Zillah　and　the　others　through　a　veil　of　tears。　Tears　not　for　the　awful　feeling　of　having　his　thoughts　raped　by　such　a　being；　but　for　Nothing。　For　that　quiet　little　boy　with　the　thin　haunted　face；　with　the　dyed　black　hair。　For　that　boy　who　loved　Zillah　with　all　his　soul。
　　
　　〃Stop　it；〃　said　Nothing。　〃Please。　Everyone　just　stop　it。　We're　leaving　right　now。〃　He　pulled　Molochai　and　Zillah　toward　the　door。
　　He　hadn't　meant　to　cause　all　this　pain。　How　could　he　have　known　what　would　happen？　No　one　had　told　him　much　of　anything　yet。　They　had　taught　him　how　to　rip　through　resisting　flesh；　how　to　coax　the　last　drop　of　blood　from　a　limp　cold　body　that　had　once　been　warm　and　alive。　But　no　one　had　sat　him　down　and　told　him　how　quickly　and　inexorably　the　other　world　the　day　world；　he　supposed…would　begin　to　slip　away。　Zillah　hadn't　said　to　him；　We　are　your　whole　world　now；　we　and　others　of　our　kind。　We　are　the　only　friends　you　can　have　now。　Or　as　Molochai　and　Twig　might　have　put　it；　Everyone　else　is　just　cocktails。
　　He　glanced　back　at　Ghost　one　last　time。　He　wished　he　could　crawl　into　bed　with　Ghost；　pull　the　pile　of　patchwork　quilts　and　scruffy　blankets　around　him；　and　sleep　in　Ghost's　arms。　Ghost　would　be　a　friend；　not　a　wild　and　predatory　master　like　Zillah。　If　Ghost　would　love　him；　he　might　still　have　some　choice　as　to　what　his　life　would　be。
　　But　Ghost　did　not　want　him。　And　why　think　such　thoughts　anyway？　He　had　made　his　choice。　Not　even　a　choice；　really。　He　had　simply　e　home。
　　
　　Steve　got　up　to　make　sure　the　creeps　were　leaving。　The　kid's　big　dark　eyes　were　smeared　with　makeup　and　tears。　Steve　felt　a　touch　of　pity　for　him。　He　couldn't　be　much　older　than　thirteen；　right　about　now　he　ought　to　be　cadging　his　first　joint　or　his　first　feel；　not　breaking　into　people's　houses　with　assholes　like　these。　But　that　was　the　kid's　choice。　Pity　wouldn't　help　him。　Steve　looked　back　at　Ghost　on　the　bed；　but　Ghost　was　facing　the　window；　avoiding　everyone's　eyes。
　　Steve　followed　them　down　the　hall　into　the　living　room。　〃Don't　go　out　the　way　you　came　in；　huh？〃　he　said。　〃Use　the　door　this　time。〃
　　The　kid…Nothing；　what　a　weird　name；　what　a　shitty　name　when　you　thought　about　it…turned　as　he　went　through　the　door　and　looked　at　Steve。　In　those　dark　eyes　Steve　saw　again　the　essence　of　childhood　lost。　The　dark　innocence；　the　doomed　sadness。　And　the　shame。
　　〃I'm　sorry；〃　Nothing　said　again。
　　Inanely；　Steve　wanted　to　tell　him　it　was　okay。　But　just　then　Zillah　lifted　his　head　and　looked　at　Steve。　His　eyes　were　dull；　and　the　wreckage　of　his　nose　and　mouth　still　oozed　thick　blood。　Steve　hoped　he　was　fucked　up　for　good。　Brain…damaged；　maybe。　But　he　managed　to　unglue　his　swollen　lips　and　shape　his　mouth　around　four　bitter　words。　〃You'll　pay　for　this；〃　he　said。
　　Steve　lunged　at　him。　〃GET　THE　FUCK　OUT　OF　HERE！〃　Broken　nose　and　busted　lip　or　not…
　　But　Molochai　and　Nothing　moved　quickly；　hauling　Zillah　out　to　the　porch　and　down　the　steps。　Steve　saw　a　dingy　black　van　parked　at　the　end　of　the　driveway；　its　tailpipe　already　belching　exhaust。　He　thought　of　trying　to　get　the　license　number；　but　knew　he　wouldn't　call　the　cops：　they　were　happy　to　bust　you　for　underage　drinking　or　possession　of　weed；　but　not　too　thrilled　when　you　wanted　anything　else　done。
　　Steve　slammed　the　front　door。　Thr