And Sparrow was surprised to discover just how good Tom felt as her lover. She thought they fit together perfectly, like the two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had only two pieces. She wanted every inch of her body to touch his… she wanted to feel his entire being inside her and all around her. She wrapped her hands in his long hair and kissed him with the intention of never stopping.
She couldn’t believe she was making love to Tom, after they’d been friends for so long… it was finally happening, and it was happening in the sky, and it was perfect.
Lena was alone.
She didn’t see anyone else around. Hanna had been close by, but a strong wind had carried her away, and now Lena was all by herself. Or so it seemed.
She was with Tom and Sparrow, in spirit if not actually there in the flesh. And because of that she felt even more alone.
Lena felt their lovemaking almost as if Tom were making love to her, as if Sparrow’s arms and legs were wrapped around her. She felt the slow, sweaty grind of their bodies, their hot breath mixing together… She knew Tom’s amazement at what was happening, and Sparrow’s surprise and wonder. It felt so damn right. Because of that, and because of the way Lena had felt about Tom for so long, she was more alone than she’d ever been in all her life. Maybe, because of the acid, she was imagining Tom and Sparrow together, but it didn’t matter. The effect was the same.
Lena in the sky. No diamonds.
She saw shapes floating in the distance, heard laughter and shouting.
“Who’s that?” she asked, but her voice was too small to be heard. The shapes floated by without noticing her.
She drifted over the football field on campus. Beyond the field the buildings that made up the University of Florida arose amid the dark shrouds of the trees, order imposed upon quiet chaos. It was a beautiful campus, Lena thought. She enjoyed being a student there.
One thing she’d learned… if she wanted to get laid she could have her pick of any of a dozen guys she knew. Dave-O, Pinhead, Sam… But none of them were Tom. Not that Tom was anything special. He was just… Tom. Tom who never seemed to get the hints that Lena scattered around him like rose petals. He just walked right over them without noticing. With all his attention focused on Sparrow, how could he notice Lena?
Sparrow… There was something special about her, even Lena knew it. She loved Sparrow. All the guys wanted Sparrow, each one yearning and pining for her at some time or another. Dave-O had, Pinhead had, they all had. She’d been with one guy for a long time, an actor who called himself Rio and had moved away over a year ago, gone to New York City and Broadway and no one had heard from him since. Sparrow had not rebounded with anyone, but had seemed to blossom on her own without a new guy in her life. She was a beautiful, loving, fun woman whom everyone liked.
Who could blame Tom for wanting her?
Of course, at the party, Lena couldn’t help but notice Tom’s fascination with Hanna. Even Lena had been taken by Hanna’s beauty. The mystery woman from out of the night… She hardly seemed real she was sooo beautiful. Just thinking about Hanna made Lena hot.
She wondered if she really was floating around over Gainesville, or standing in Dave-O’s shop with her eyes closed, letting Sam’s guitar lift her mind up. It felt too real. She didn’t need to pinch herself.
There would never be another night like this, a night of floating free. But she didn’t want to just float. She wanted to fly. She willed herself to take control. She didn’t want to be a slave to the wind anymore. She spread her arms out, like the wings of a bird, and suddenly dove toward the football field below. The grass seemed to rush up to meet her, and with only a few feet to spare Lena pulled out of the dive. The tips of her sneakers brushed the ground, and she raced back up and into the night sky.
Now she was flying!
Hanna had flown before, she realized as she hovered over an intersection. She didn’t remember having flown, not exactly, but the sensation felt so familiar she must have at some point in her past. Maybe it’d happened in the dream. She didn’t want to close her eyes, though, to find out.
Hanna wondered how far she could fly. Would it be far enough to get away? The Psychotics’ guitar player would stop playing, eventually, and then she’d have to land. The General would come after her, relentless as ever.
Below her, the streets were empty. It was late. Then she saw a lone car moving toward the intersection. She recognized the car. It was her peach colored Jeep, and she knew who was driving.
The Jeep stopped in the intersection, and the driver’s side door opened. The General stepped out, then looked up, directly at Hanna even though there was no way he could see her.
“I know you’re up there,” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“Get down here, soldier,” the General said. “That’s a direct order.”
Hanna resisted the urge to follow orders. It wasn’t easy to resist the tiny voice inside that tried to compel her to obey. But she resisted.
“You can’t fly,” the General told her. “It’s impossible. Get down here.”
“I’m not coming down,” Hanna said. “You’ll do to me what you did to Deuce and Galactic Bill!”
“Maybe not,” the General replied. “Come down, and we’ll talk it over.”
“No.”
Hanna could feel the General’s anger building.
“This would be a whole lot easier for all of us if you’d just give up,” he said.
“It’d be a whole lot easier for me if you’d just go away,” Hanna replied.
“You’re not even a fully developed, fully realized individual, you know that don’t you?” the General asked her. “You’re just a piece of the puzzle. You’ll never be complete.”
“I think I’m just fine the way I am now,” she said. “I don’t want to be part of Jovah again. I’m me. Tell Jovah to go fuck himself.”
The General pulled his service .45 from its holster and aimed it directly at Hanna.
“I could just shoot you and end it, here and now.”
Hanna floated there, not sure what to say. Would he actually do it? What would happen if a bullet pierced her heart? Could she die that way? What would happen if a part of Jovah died?
The General didn’t squeeze the trigger. Hanna could tell he was having the same thoughts as she was. He was having her thoughts. Part of Jovah would be gone forever if the General actually killed Hanna.
“Damn,” he muttered, then said, “We’ll finish this soon enough.”
He got back in the Jeep and drove away, toward downtown.
Was he going to Dave-O’s shop? What could he do when he got there? Sparrow wasn’t there, and he couldn’t find her the way he could find Hanna. Hanna wondered if she should just stay away from Sparrow… but she knew she wouldn’t be able to do that. She was a moth and Sparrow was the flame.
Where was Sparrow now, anyway?
At the edge of her thoughts she could feel Sparrow, vaguely. She got a taste of Sparrow’s climax during lovemaking. It filled Hanna with warmth. Hanna took a deep breath. No she could not stay away from Sparrow.
She resisted the urge to close her eyes and let the wind carry her away.
Breathless, Tom and Sparrow hung in mid-air, their arms and legs still intertwined, and let the wind carry them where it may. When they finally looked around to get their bearings, they were way out past the Highway Patrol station, near Galactic Bill’s apartment.
“Let’s see if he’s home,” Sparrow suggested. So they descended, naked, under cover of darkness to the parking lot. The complex was silent, the motorcycles across the way were gone, and Galactic Bill’s front door stood open.
Tom walked up to the doorway of Galactic Bill’s apartment.
“Bill!” he yelled. “Bill, it’s Tom and Sparrow!”
“We want to tell you how great this acid is!” Sparrow yelled.
“Should we go in?” Tom asked Sparrow. She shrugged, then stepped past Tom and went inside. Tom followed.
“Hey, Bill!” Tom called. “Anyone home?”
“I think that’s blood,” Sparrow said, looking at the stain on the wall.
Tom walked over for a closer inspection. The carpet squished under his feet and red gunk oozed between his toes.
“Oh my God,” he said.
“What are going to do?” Sparrow asked.
Tom retreated to where the carpet was dry.
“I wonder if those bikers did something to him,” he said.
“Should we call the cops?” Sparrow asked.
“No, we can’t call the cops while we’re tripping. They’ll arrest us.”
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
They went through the apartment, but there was no body.
“Maybe they just trashed his place,” Tom suggested. “Smeared a dead animal on the wall or something… That would explain why they’re gone. They’re afraid of Galactic Bill.”
“Maybe,” Sparrow said thoughtfully. She bit her lower lip as she looked around the living room. “Something doesn’t feel right about that, though. Hanna was here. She might know something.”
“You don’t think she did this, do you?”
Sparrow shook her head. “No, but I think there’s something she’s not telling us.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Sparrow said. “It’s just a feeling.”
“We should look for her,” Tom said.
“Yeah, but let’s find our clothes first.” Sparrow slapped Tom’s rear.
They left the apartment the way they found it, walked out to the middle of the parking lot and silently launched themselves back into the night sky.
Emily swerved across University Avenue on her bicycle. The lack of traffic let her ride recklessly. She was riding hard, but forced herself to slow down a little so she didn’t run into a parked car or something. From University she cut down a side street, turned a corner. Something in the road caught her eye. A pile of clothes. She rode past but a cold dread descended over her. What if those were Io’s clothes?
She turned her bike around and went back.
Leaning her bike against the trunk of a magnolia tree, she walked over to the clothes. There was a pair of red sneakers that were too big for a little kid. A plaid skirt that Emily picked up and held to her waist. A little small. A t-shirt with a smiley face and crossbones on the front. She recognized that. It belonged to Tom.
“Hey, Em!”
Emily jumped back, dropped the shirt, and spun around. No one there. She looked all around her, but saw no one at all.
“Emily, up here!”
She looked up.
A little bird…
It was Sparrow, flying. Emily watched, speechless, as Sparrow descended as if being lowered by wires, to land in the street. She was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of socks, but no pants, and holding her shoes in her hands.
“Hi, Em,” came Tom’s voice again, from above. He too descended as if being lowered by wires… but there were no wires. He landed near his clothes, grabbed his underwear and jeans and hurriedly put them on, grinning sheepishly as Emily watched.
“Is it really you?” Emily asked Sparrow. She was in shock, and wondered if the stress of allowing Io to be taken had gotten to her.
“It’s really me,” Sparrow said. “Can I have my skirt?” Emily realized she was still holding onto the skirt. She handed it to Sparrow, who put it on. Sparrow grinned. “I can’t find my underwear.”
“You were flying,” Emily said.
Sparrow nodded.
“The Psychotics played ‘Flight of Fancy’,” Tom said, as if that explained it.
When they were clothed, Emily tried to tell them what had happened, but she could barely speak.
“Where’s Io?” Sparrow asked. It was an innocent question, not accusing, but it ran Emily through like a spike.
“She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
Emily nodded. Tears started streaming from her eyes uncontrollably.
“He took her.”
Sparrow frowned.
“Who took her?”
Emily choked back a sob.
“Oh God… Io’s gone.”
“Emily, who came and took her?” Sparrow asked very slowly.
“The… the man in the painting took her,” Emily said.
“What painting?”
“The one Io was doing. He had a gun, Sparrow. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do!”
“Did Io know him?” Sparrow asked.
Emily frowned. “I think so… I think she did. She wanted to go with him, Sparrow. Io wanted to leave…” Now she started crying in earnest. The idea that Io had wanted to leave her was heartbreaking. Why would Io want to leave them? “I’m so sorry, Sparrow. If anything happens to Io… I don’t what I’ll do. I’m so sorry.”
“Em, have you been smoking pot?” Sparrow asked.
Emily sniffed, wiped her eyes, and nodded.
“She can’t go to the police,” Tom said. “Neither can we, not like this.”
“I know,” Sparrow said.
“What can we do?” Emily asked.
“We’ll find her,” Sparrow said, as if stating it matter-of-factly, as if her words would make it so. Her words felt so powerless, though. Once they were spoken they were gone, thoughts forgotten almost as soon as they came into being.
Chapter Eight
The Jeep sputtered, jerked laboriously forward a few more feet, and then died with a mechanical last gasp. The needle on the gas gauge was nestled well within the red empty zone. The General hadn’t even considered the Jeep’s fuel needs, and now it was out of gas! He was furious. He clenched his teeth together while his grip on the steering wheel tightened, and growled. It started deep in his gut and worked its way up slowly. Hanna was flying, and here he was… out of gas!
The Jeep shuddered as the General growled, the low sound permeating the vehicle’s metal body, vibrating it violently for a moment before it abruptly stopped.
There wasn’t far to go, the General realized. Hanna would come back down to Earth eventually, and he’d be waiting for her. He would devour her as he had Deuce, Galactic Bill, and Io. Her bones would snap between his teeth. He was going to eat her for lunch, literally, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew it as well as he did.
He wouldn’t run out of gas, so to speak, like the Jeep. He would follow Hanna to the ends of the Earth if he had to. He stood by the Jeep’s still-warm corpse and considered shooting it, like a horse, as a symbolic gesture. Then he felt a small, mental tug. An unseen force compelled him to walk thataway. So he did.
The General all but ignored his surroundings as he walked smartly along. There was no reason for him to care about this town, just as there had never been a reason for him to care about any of the others towns or cities he’d visited in his travels for Jovah. He considered himself little more than a weapon, a smart bomb. When he found his target, which he always did, he struck.
The wind rustled the leaves in the trees overhead, Nature’s softly whispering voice. He barely noticed. Nature meant nothing to the General.
He heard something else, not in the trees. Far away. A familiar sound…
Chugchugchugchugchugchug. It was a chopper prowling the skies somewhere… Oh yes, he knew that sound.
“Take cover!” he yelled, then remembered he was alone. The helicopter noise got louder, and the General knew without a doubt it would come for him. He pulled his .45. He wouldn’t go down so easy this time, not this General Archimedes Carter, no fucking way. He was going to fight, and this time he was going to win!
“Come on!” he shouted into the night sky. “I’m right here!”
The chugchugchuging got louder, closer. The General smiled, a grinning reaper ready to meet his
cousin, Death from Above.
It’s not real! Io’s voice insisted inside the General’s head.
But it was real. He knew it was real.
It’s one of us!
One of us? Part of Jovah? The General shook his head. No Goddamn way. The things that had wiped out Alice Company had been abominations, aberrations of machine and life… totally different than Jovah. Jovah was becoming a man, more or less. The things that had attacked Alice Company could never hope to become real, living creatures.
The chopper’s growl echoed off the apartment building walls around the General, rapid-fire like a machine gun. This was the final conflict all over again… the Vietnam killing field revisited.
It wasn’t Vietnam! Io’s annoying little voice chirped inside the General’s head. He shut it off. The proverbial shit was about to hit the proverbial fan and the General didn’t need any distractions. Locked and loaded, his .45 in hand, he was born to kill, born to sing and dance in the rain of burning flesh.
Sing and dance…
“I’m singin’ in the rain!” he bellowed.
Chugchugchugchugchug…
“What a beautiful feeling!”
Chugchugchugchugchugchugchug…
“I’m happy again!”
The General tunnel-visioned to a past that wasn’t even his past, a battle he never fought, a war that never happened. That didn’t matter. It had happened, if only in Jovah’s reality. Jovah’s reality was all the reality the General needed. In it, helicopters were dragons, Sparrow was the world, and the General was pure fire.
Jovah’s reality…
Chugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchugchug…
The medivac chopper cleared the treetops, right above him.
“Eat this!” the General howled. He squeezed the trigger rapidly, five times. The helicopter choked, sputtered, seemed to dangle in the air for a moment, merely a helicopter. There were no jagged teeth, there was no spitting fire. The helicopter veered sideways over the apartment buildings and disappeared behind them.
God Drug Page 10