Specimen Days

things. It smelled of bread mold and warm plastic.

Luke got in back with Simon and Catareen. He took the stun gun from the Jesus and leveled it at them. The Jesus stood in the doorway, jingling the ignition keys in his pierced palm.

'You think you can manage them back here?' the Jesus said.

'Absolutely,' Luke answered. 'About the gun, though. It's set to stun, right? A five is nonlethal, right?'

'It's on five?'

'It is.'

'Okay. Five is good. Five'll knock 'em out, but it won't kill 'em.'

'Good.'

Luke aimed the stun gun at the Jesus and fired. A bright blue beam struck the skinny, white-robed chest. The Jesus looked at Luke with an expression of profound bafflement. Then his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he crumpled away, out the door of the Winnebago and onto the street.

'Quick,' Luke said to Simon and Catareen. 'Let's get out of here.'

Simon stared at the fallen Jesus. One of his sandaled feet, surprisingly small, twitched on the Winnebago's threshold. The rest of him lay sprawled on the asphalt in an attitude of ecstatic release.

'What do you have in mind, exactly?' Simon asked.

Luke handed him the gun. 'Take me hostage,' he said. 'Grab the keys and drive like hell.'

'You're sure about this?' 'Absolutely. Aim the stunner at me.'

Simon had no trouble with that, considering the boy's unambiguous wishes.

'I'm going to go out in front of you,' Luke said. 'Pick up the keys, and get us out of here. Do you understand?'

'I guess so.'

'We should take the Winnebago and leave the pod. The Winnebago is better off-road.'

'Right.'

'Make them give you back the engager for the pod so they can't follow us.'

'Whatever you say.' 'Okay. Let's go.'

Luke kicked the Jesus' foot down from the threshold. He raised his hands in the air and hopped outside. Simon glanced at Catareen did she think this was some kind of trap? She flicked her long fingers toward the doorway, that Nadian gesture of impatience.

From outside the Winnebago, he heard Luke say, 'For the love of Christ, don't shoot.'

Catareen flicked her fingers more urgently. All right, then. If this was a mistake, he'd let it be her problem.

Simon jumped out after Luke and trained the stun gun on the frail back. He said, 'Move. I will fucking kill you if you don't do exactly what I say.'

He was good at this, no denying it.

'Just don't hurt me,' Luke whimpered.

The Virgin and Obi-Wan stood frozen at the doors to the pod, blinking in confusion. It seemed to Simon an unnecessarily elaborate charade, given that its entire audience was a teenage girl and an elderly man in a Halloween costume.

Then his circuits started shutting down. Here was the sudden cooling, as if the temperature had dropped by fifteen degrees. Here was the fizzy light-headedness, the sour, spinning intoxication. It seemed to stem not from the entirely false threat of violence but from the absurdity of the threat, the pathos of tricking these sad people (who had, it must be remembered, murderous capabilities). He was all but overcome by the notion that the world was made of tricks and sorrows, of zealots and shoddiness and brutal authorities and old men in costumes.

He was shutting down. It shouldn't be happening. He wasn't harming anyone directly. But here it was.

Catareen had snatched the keys from the Jesus' hand. Luke took a step forward, saying, 'Please, please, I'll do anything you want.' Simon was able to move, but with increasing difficulty, as if the air itself were thickening around him.

He said, 'Inside of dresses and ornaments, behold a secret silent loathing and despair.' His voice was heavy and several notes too low.

Catareen snatched the gun from his hand, leaped forward, and pressed it between Luke's shoulder blades.

She said to the old man and the Virgin, 'Throw me engager.'

'Do it,' Luke commanded.

The old man tossed the engager in Catareen's direction. It fell on the ground at her feet, and she snatched it up with raptorish speed.

'Move,' she said to Luke.

He moved. Simon followed as best he could.

Catareen got Luke into the cab of the Winnebago. Simon managed to get himself in on the passenger's side. Catareen put the key into the ignition, started it up. She leaned out the window and shouted at the Virgin and the old man, 'If you follow, we kill.'

Then she accelerated, and they were on their way.

'Nice work,' Luke said. He smelled slightly of pine air freshener. His fetish necklace clicked softly against his narrow, bathrobed chest.

Catareen drove. The headlights of the Winnebago lit up the ash-colored road, the tangles of dark grass on either side.

Simon felt himself returning. Motion seemed to help. He said, 'What was that about?'

He heard his own voice as if from a certain distance. But he was starting up again, no question.

'That was 'Sayonara, assholes,'' Luke answered. 'Who were those people?'

'Blots on the name of the Lord. Fools in fools' clothing.'

'Weren't you one of them?' 'Posing as.'

The Winnebago's headlights continued showing bright, empty road bordered by black fields. Simon saw that it was equipped with a directional. They could find Denver easily, then.

He said to the boy, 'Will they come after us?'

'Probably. They'll want the Winnebago back more than they'll want me.'

'Should we be worried?'

'They're not very smart or well organized. It'll take Obi-Wan and Kitty an hour to walk to the tabernacle. I'd say go off-road and kill the lights. There's enough of a moon.'

'The Winnebago is all-terrain?'

'Yep. Modified. Engine's atomic, and the wheelbase has been hydraulicked. It's modeled on what they used to call tanks.'

'I know what a tank is,' Simon said.

'Then you know we can go just about anywhere in this thing.'

At that, Catareen turned off the road and extinguished the headlights. The Winnebago's tires held on the uneven ground. Catareen drove into the grass, which was restless and silvered under the moon.

'So,' Luke said. 'Where are you headed?' 'We're going to Denver.' 'Looking for Emory Lowell?' 'How did you know that?'

'When somebody says he's going to Denver, the name Lowell naturally arises. I mean, you wouldn't be going all that way for the rattlesnake festival.'

'You've heard of Lowell, then.' 'I've met him.' 'You have?'

'Sure. I lived in Denver for a few years, when I was younger. My mother and I traveled a lot.'

'Military?' 'No. Just poor.'

They drove across the grassy flats. Every so often the lights of a compound flickered in the distance. Every so often there was a shooting star.

After they had covered more than a hundred miles, they agreed that they should stop for the rest of the night. Catareen said, 'We must to eat.'

'Love to,' Simon answered. 'If you happen to see a cafe out here'

'I find,' she said.