“I can’t.”
“Why not? What’s keeping you here?”
“A job, for one. Where else in this world is there a place for someone like me?”
Kithara put a hand to the burned side of my face. I could feel energy crackling out of him. “You could have a place with us. You could become Wraeththu, Jareth. Come with me.”
I was torn, anguished. What was here for me but shame and degradation? But become Wraeththu? I wanted all my organs intact, thank you. I slipped away from his arms. “No, I can’t.”
“Okay.” Kithara leaned over and kissed my forehead. He climbed on the bike, turned the key and revved it. It purred into life. “Which way should I go?”
“You need to head for the mountains, that way.” Esmeralda pointed.
“Go along the track at the back of the tents there,” I said, “so they’ll be less likely to hear you. Good luck.”
Then we heard a familiar voice. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Long coat-tails fluttering in the breeze, a slender figure emerged from the shadows into the light cast from the open trailer door. Dr. Sligo. He aimed a long barrelled pistol right at Kithara; then he laughed.
“I think the beard suits you, Mutant,” Sligo said. “You can take it off now, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve misdirected the townies, so we should have a few minutes while they search trailers on the other side of the fairgrounds. I know a safe place for you to hide, but you’ve got to come now.”
Kithara folded his arms. “I’m sure you’ll understand when I say no, and not only no, but, fuck you.”
Sligo raised the pistol and came closer. “Would you rather I turn you over to the lynch mob, or perhaps blow a hole in your pretty little head before they get here? Get off the bike.”
Kithara raised his hands, turned off the engine, then slowly swung his leg off the bike, and stood up. “I don’t think you’ll kill the golden goose, Sligo.”
“Perhaps not. I just need to stand back and let them do it,” Sligo replied, jerking his head in the direction the mob had taken.
We heard shouting in the distance. Sligo gestured with the gun the opposite way. “Now, make the right decision here, boy, for all concerned. Make it quick, we don’t have much time before this whole situation is out of my hands.”
“You created the situation, Sligo, when you decided to exhibit me as a freak,” Kithara snarled. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to kill you and give them a reason for hunting me down, but then again I’m tempted. There is the matter of a cattle prod and a few late night visits between us.”
“You are laughable,” Sligo said. “How dare you threaten me? I’m the one with the gun here. I could kill you right now and that bunch of rubes would give me a medal.”
“Dr. Sligo,” I pleaded, “you’ve seen how dangerous it is to have him around. He’s a liability to us. Please, just let him go.”
Sligo rounded on me. “I see you and Esmeralda are helping him get away. Not too loyal of you. No, not loyal at all. I’m thinking that if I put you both out on the highway, it’ll be two less paychecks to cut. There aren’t many jobs out there for freaks.” Sligo swung the pistol away from Kithara and pointed it at me. Esmeralda and I both gasped. All I could see was that long barrel, cold and clinical, ready to deal out my death. My heart began thumping madly.
In a sudden blur of motion, Kithara lunged forward, striking Sligo in the chest with a flattened palm. There was a white flash and the air seemed to reverberate with the force of the blow. Sligo flew over backwards and landed on his back. Unmoving, he stared up at the sky with glassy eyes. Esmeralda screamed.
“Oh my god, did you kill him?” I gasped.
“Possibly,” Kithara replied. He reached down, picked up the pistol, and shoved it into a pocket in his leather jacket. “Time to go, Jareth. Are you with me?”
Closer now, down the midway, I heard more shouting. Dark figures were running towards us. In shock, I stared down at Dr. Sligo lying in the dirt. Hands shaking, I reached down, felt his neck for that tiny throb.
“He’s got a pulse,” I said to Esmeralda. “What do we do?”
“I’m calling an ambulance,” she said. She jerked a thumb at Kithara. “You better get out of here. Now.”
Kithara mounted the bike, turned the key, throttled up, and the engine roared. The red tail light blinked off. He started to pull away. Panic rushed through me. Oh god, I’d never see him again.
“Wait,” I called, running alongside until he stopped. Breathlessly, I said, “I’m coming with you,” and scrambled on behind him.
“Take the backpack,” he said, wriggling it off and handing it to me. “Hold on.”
“Bye, Ez,” I waved, as I slung the pack on my back.
“Good luck, Jareth! Be good now,” she called.
Then we were flying through the night, bumping along on the dirt track behind the tents. There was a steep embankment to our right and in the distance I could see the lights of the highway. I was pumped full of adrenaline, freaked at what just happened, and yet I knew I wasn’t in control anymore, if indeed I ever had been. Destiny was pulling me in its wake and, for once, I did not want to fight.
At that moment, I heard a crack like distant thunder and a loud whine zipped past my head. I turned and saw the headlights of a truck. It had just rounded a corner and was closing in behind us. Another loud report.
“Shit, Kithara, they’re shooting at us!”
“I know, hold on tight,” he said. “We’re going for a ride.” He gave the bike full throttle and pulled away from the truck. Then he turned sharply to the right and we charged straight up the embankment. Dirt clots flew. The bike’s rear end shimmied, and then slid. It threatened to stall. Kithara put down both feet, pushing it along, then gunned it. I heard another shot and some lighter sounds: pop, pop, pop.
Suddenly Kithara lurched forward. “Oh fuck!” he said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Damn. Let’s go.” We reached the top of the embankment. Kithara turned left and drove like hell along the narrow track on top of the berm. I could see the lights of three vehicles below us, but they were falling back. We heard several more faint shots ring out. Too far away to be a threat. Up ahead the highway appeared like a river of light. The embankment began to descend. We rode down it, crashed through a fence, and reached the pavement that led to the highway on-ramp. We took it heading west towards the mountains.
We’d escaped! Even though I knew it might not last, I felt silly with relief. I closed my eyes, feeling the wind rushing by my face. Hugging Kithara’s lithe body against my chest, I rested the burned side of my face against his back. He wanted me with him. Me. Whatever came next, this was my time to savour.
The high didn’t last long. My face began to tingle and then burn. I jerked away from Kithara, put my hand to my cheek, bringing away a slick moisture. What? Something warm and wet was seeping through Kithara’s jacket.
“Jesus, you’re bleeding!” I shouted against the wind.
“I think I was hit back there.” He hissed through his teeth. “It’s starting to hurt.”
Oh god! The dark stain was slowly spreading across his shoulder. “We’ve got to stop!”
“We don’t dare. It’s a matter of time until they send the cops after us. I want to put miles between us before then.”
“Sligo wasn’t dead, Kithara. Maybe they won’t follow us. You must go to a hospital!”
“No way in hell,” Kithara snarled and increased his speed.
“Damn it, at least let me drive! You could pass out and kill us both!”
“I won’t pass out,” he asserted.
“Yeah, I forgot, you’re superman,” I muttered. Right. I pressed my hand to the wound to try to stop the bleeding. Kithara flinched and then swore. The bike swerved. Cars whooshed by indifferently while I wondered at what point this whole nightmare would come crashing to an end. No premonitions appeared to guide me. I closed my eyes and breathed dee
ply, trying not to panic. Meanwhile the back of Kithara’s jacket grew more slippery under my palm.
In the distance, a police siren wailed, then another one picked up the cry. “Kithara!” I warned.
“I hear them,” he said. “Jareth, I feel so tired, I’m seeing spots.”
“Shit! We’d better get off the road and hide somewhere. There’s a truck stop up ahead. Pull off there.”
For once he did as I asked. We cruised into a big parking lot with several tractor trailer trucks parked outside a greasy spoon café that had strings of old Christmas lights blinking around the windows. Cautiously, we motored up outside. Came to a stop. I swung off the bike and Kithara fell over sideways into my arms. I eased him down to the pavement.
“Sit here while I try to find some bandages to pack around that bleeding. Maybe ice would slow it down some,” I said. The bleeding was getting worse, spreading into a puddle underneath Kithara. I was trying to hold it together, but panic was setting in. My guts felt fluttery. I thought I might puke.
A man emerged from the café. He wore a baseball cap over scraggly yellow hair that hung down to his shoulders, a dirty t-shirt that said Aliens are among us, and was bopping to music coming from earphones. Kithara slumped forward, his head hitting the ground.
“Hey dude, are you all right?” the guy said. He pulled his earphones down around his neck.
“No, he’s not,” I said, ducking my head to throw my hair over my face. “He’s been badly hurt. Do you have any towels or something?” I raised a hand, dark with blood.
“Oh shit! Yeah. Come over to the truck here.”
I supported Kithara against my shoulder and we hobbled over to the guy’s rig. He hopped up in the cab, fumbled around, and emerged with two towels. Kithara sank down on the curb with a gasp. I peeled off his jacket and the t-shirt underneath, which I noticed was one of mine. Christ, there was blood everywhere! More blood oozed from a little black hole in his shoulder that had a raised, discoloured welt all around it. I took the towel and pressed it to the wound. Kithara grunted.
“Wow. That looks nasty. I’d better call 911,” the guy said, bending over, his face tight with concern. He pulled a cell from his pocket.
“No, don’t do that,” Kithara said, menacingly. He scowled. “I mean it.”
“Dude,” the guy said.
In the distance I could hear the sirens wailing and knew I had to take a risk and hope this guy wouldn’t turn us in. “Hey man, we need your help,” I said. “Hear those sirens? That’s the cops. They shot my friend here and I’m afraid they’ll kill him if they catch us? Savvy?”
“They won’t kill you if you give up?” The guy hesitated.
“Sure they won’t,” Kithara said. “We tried that already. That’s when they shot me. So we ran.” He winced as he peeled off the beard, then looked up at the guy with that angel face of his, gave him one of his irresistible smiles, then his face contorted in pain. “Please help us,” he said.
“Um, well, what do you want me to do?”
“Which way are you headed?” I asked.
“West.”
“Let us hitch a ride in the back of your truck,” I said. “If they pull you over and search, you can say you didn’t know we’d crawled in there. What d’you say?” I shrugged off my backpack and felt around in the pouch, pulled out the roll of bills. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“No need, dude. I’ve had a few run-ins with the cops myself. Just be quick. I see lights flashing up there on the highway.” He opened the doors on the back of the truck.
“Help him up. I’ll get the bike,” I said.
I held Kithara in my arms while we rocked back and forth in the dark. We were sitting on some old blankets in the back of the truck, which was full of car parts. I didn’t know what time it was, but it seemed as if more than two hours had passed. We hadn’t been pulled over and I couldn’t hear any sirens, so I guessed we were safe for the moment. At least safe from being taken into custody. I wondered if we should have let the cops find us so Kithara could get medical attention. That is, until they figured out what he was, then god only knew what would happen.
The driver, whose name was Ben, had given me some crushed ice in a baggie and I packed that against Kithara’s wound, then taped the towels on top. It looked like it had helped. The bleeding seemed to have stopped because it wasn’t soaking through the towels. At least I didn’t think it was. But then, he felt clammy to the touch, and was moaning and twitching. I felt so helpless and inadequate. Why had I done this stupid thing? What future did I have now? And the worst question to contemplate: what the hell was I going to do if he died? At this point, as far as I could see, my whole life was fucked. I couldn’t go back to the circus, so I had no way to make a living. I was damaged goods, a freak no one wanted, and god, I was so scared. My throat closed up hard, choking me. A sob forced its way out, and with that surrender, the dam burst. I found myself crying in great heaving shudders.
He moved in my arms. His hand touched my cheek. “Jareth. Don’t worry. It will be okay,” he said. “I’m trying to heal myself from within, sealing off arteries. It’s taking all my concentration. Sorry, I can’t be with you right now. Just hold me. Lend me your strength.”
“I’m trying,” I choked. But he was out again, involved in his own struggle. Nevertheless the sound of his voice lingered, soothing. He said it would be all right. I believed him. I was an idiot. The truck rocked us back and forth. The road droned underneath. Slowly, my eyes closed.
My own yell woke me up. At first I thought it was a dream in which someone had thrust a knife in my guts. Ow, shit, there it was again. Not a dream. I struggled out from under Kithara’s body, turned my head away and was sick on the floor. My face was burning all over and my lips felt swollen. What was going on? Did I have the flu or something? Not good. Needed to get out of the truck right away. “Ben! Stop! Stop!” I yelled and banged on the walls. No response. I picked up what felt like a fender and heaved it against the back wall. That appeared effective since the truck slowed and then lumbered to a halt. The brakes hissed. The back doors were wrenched open, cool air flowed in, and I could see Ben’s cap silhouetted against a starry sky. “Hey, what’s going on?” he said.
“Sorry man,” I said. “But I’m feeling sick as a dog and my friend, he’s not doing too good. We need to get out.”
“I can take you to a hospital,” Ben offered. “I don’t want this guy’s death on my conscience.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take him,” I said. “Just let us off here.” I shook Kithara. “Can you hear me, Kithara? We’ve got to go now.” He roused with a groan. Ben climbed into the back, pushed the bike onto the lift, and lowered himself. In the dark, I felt for my backpack. “Damn! I can’t see a thing.”
“Just a sec and I’ll get a flashlight,” Ben said. I heard him crunching towards the cab. I raised the lift back up, laboriously rolled Kithara onto it, and lowered us down next to the bike.
It was a quiet highway. Two lanes. The air felt cooler, especially after the closeness in the truck. We must be higher in altitude. There was a fork in the road that headed up towards some mountains, blacker than black against the sky. Somehow I knew that was the way we needed to go. I slapped his cheek. “Wake up Kithara. You have to ride with me now. Please, wake up. I can’t stand it anymore.” I was nearly in tears again and plenty nauseated to boot.
He moved and murmured, “Hey, I’m awake now. Where are we going?”
“Someplace not here,” I said as I helped him stagger to his feet and climb onto the back of the bike.
Then I was wracked with nausea again and had to double over. Ben appeared with the flashlight, cutting a bright swath in the darkness.
“Here,” he said. “See if this helps.”
Raising my head, I looked at him and wasn’t prepared at all for his reaction. He yelled and raised a hand as if to fend me off. “Jesus H. Christ!” he said, “What the hell happened to you?”
“I’m sorr
y. It’s just a burn I got when I was a kid. A really bad one. It doesn’t hurt.”
“No,” he said. “This isn’t a burn. It’s like something spreading out, dude, like you’re diseased or something.”
Kithara moaned and then his skin began to glow with a soft light, as if a lantern had switched on inside of him.
“Shit, look at that! What are you two? What are you?” Ben said in terror. He dropped the flashlight. “I’m sorry, dude. Too freaky. Gotta go.” He slammed shut the back doors of his truck, ran and leaped into the cab, and steamed off as fast as he could shift gears.
I watched the truck leave, feeling increasingly putrid, and wondering what the fuck was going on. What was Kithara doing? I reached down, grabbed the flashlight, and dumped it in the pack, figuring it might prove useful. Now, I’d better get out of here before someone saw Kithara’s new incarnation as a nightlight. I got on the bike, reached back, grasped Kithara’s wrists, and pulled his arms about my waist. “You’ve got to hold on now,” I said to him. “Can you hear me, shithead?”
I felt him nod against my back. Then I recalled the vision I’d had in the circus tent of looking through a door at a wall of pine trees. It was a real place. I knew it and I knew we had to get there.
I toed up the kickstand, turned the key, and throttled up. A car whooshed by as I started slowly along the shoulder. I needed to let go of my conscious will and allow my subconscious, or fate, chance, or whatever it was, guide me. A lightning fork of pain sizzled through my limbs again. What the hell was happening?
The road wound back and forth up the mountainside, becoming more and more provincial as we rode along. The air grew chilly, especially when we descended into a dip, and I was glad of Kithara’s body heat against my back, even though it was a strange, tickling sort of heat that seemed to be transferring itself to me, as if my skin were soaking up his magic. His glow had faded, but shit, I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I felt like a rabbit seeking a hole to hide in, with a ticking time bomb strapped to my back.
Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu Page 13