'They wouldn't know they were hurting you. They believe wrong things. They believe they have to take themselves and you off to God. That's wrong. If God wants you, He'll take you in His own good time.'
'We're all supposed to go to God in a little while, Mr. Mongo. There are going to be demons all around outside. We were supposed to stay here until Jesus came down to drive away all the demons and take care of us, but now everything here smells like poo-poo. Mr. Thompson says it's a sign that we're supposed to go to God now, before the demons come. He's made us stuff to drink that will make us sleep while God takes us.'
'Vicky, do you like Mr. Thompson?'
She made a small grimace. 'I guess he's all right, but he looks real funny now that he doesn't have any ears. Some demon hurt him and took away his ears. Now he kind of scares me sometimes, and I know he scares my mommy and daddy. When he came around here and told us we have to drink that stuff, Mommy and Daddy tried to argue with him. He made them be quiet. I think he scared them.'
'Vicky, Mr. Thompson is wrong. He believes wrong things about what God wants. Santa knows what God wants, and Santa doesn't want you or anyone else to drink that stuff and go to sleep like Mr. Thompson wants you to. If you do, you'll never wake up again, and then you won't be able to play with your puppy. That's why Santa sent me here to stop Mr. Thompson from doing those bad things. Do you believe me, Vicky?'
Her answer was a small nod of her head.
'I have to tie your parents up, Vicky, but it will only be for a little while. It's so they won't hurt themselves or try to stop me. After I find what I'm looking for, we'll come back and untie them. Okay?'
She thought about it, finally nodded. 'Okay, Mr. Mongo. But please don't tie them too tight.'
'I won't. Is there any rope in the house, Vicky?'
'I don't know. I don't think so.'
'It's okay,' I said, quickly getting to my feet, hurrying across the room, and sticking my head around the door to glance at the clock radio.
11:19.
I went back, quickly rolled the shower curtain lengthways, and started to tie the man's hands. 'Vicky,' I said tentatively, feeling the breath catch in my throat, 'your father's been working here at Eden for a long time, hasn't he? He takes care of things, right?'
'Yes. But it's not his fault that things here smell like poo. He told me that they weren't building it right, and that they were putting too many people in here.'
'Did he ever take you around Eden with him?'
'Oh, yes,' she said, and smiled. 'He used to take me with him all the time, and he let me help him take care of things. It was a lot of fun before everything started to smell like poo.'
'Do you know what a radio transmitter is?'
She shook her head, and I swallowed a grunt of frustration as I tried to think how to describe something when I didn't even know what it looked like.
I continued, 'Did your daddy ever talk about a machine, or anything, that was going to send everybody to God just before the demons came?'
'You mean the thing that's going to kill all the niggers, kikes, mud people, and burnoose-heads?'
'Where is it, Vicky?'
'Across the ocean, up on the shore just before the place where the jungle begins. Daddy never did anything to it. He told me it takes care of itself, and that it's all set. But he used to show it to me. It's going to help Jesus when He comes to fight the demons.'
'How can we get to it, Vicky?'
'We can get there in a cart by going around the ocean, but it's more fun to go across in a boat.'
'Where do they keep the carts, Vicky?'
'They're parked down by-' The girl suddenly stopped speaking, and her eyes suddenly went wide as she looked at something behind me. 'What are you going to do with that ax, Mr. Thompson?'
I pushed Vicky to one side, then leaped away just as the heavy head of a fire ax buried itself with a loud
First I threw a pillow from the sofa at him, because it was the only thing at hand. He didn't seem even to notice as it bounced off his face. But he noticed when I threw a side kick into his left thigh, just above the spot where I had pumped a bullet into his leg. The seemingly indestructible giant screamed, grabbed with both hands at his thigh, and began hopping around on his right foot. I hopped after him, drawing my revolver and aiming it directly at the hole on the right side of his head where one of his ears had been before he'd pulled it off. I pulled the trigger; just as I feared, I was rewarded for my efforts with nothing more than a dull click. As he roared with pain and rage and reached for me, I ducked under his arms and brought the end of the barrel up hard into his groin.
His roar went up two or three octaves, and his torso came down. I brought the butt of the gun down with all the strength I could muster onto the top of his shaved head, and that sent him crashing to the floor.
From past experience, I estimated that it would take me at least a week to beat Tanker Thompson to death, and I had neither the inclination nor the time to hang around to see if he was going to stay on the floor. 'Let's go, Vicky!' I shouted, grabbing the child's hand and pulling her after me out of the room.
We ran through the living room, and out the front door. When Vicky tripped, I swept her up in my arms and carried her, staggering drunkenly as I tried to run on legs that felt like rotten rubber. Sweat was pouring into my eyes, blinding me. Gasping for breath, I weaved my way down the center of the road back the way we had come, toward the shores of Eden's ocean.
I suffered two serious stumbles, but I managed to catch myself each time before I fell with the child in my arms. After what seemed an eternity of breathlessness and pain, I reached the shore of the ocean-which, now that I looked closer in the shimmering, pale green light, appeared to be covered with lumps of what looked suspiciously like unprocessed human excrement. I set Vicky down, looked up and down the shoreline. Twenty-five yards to my right, barely visible in the eerie chemical glow, were a rowboat and a kayak with portals for two people. In the distance, in what seemed to me at least a lifetime away across the ocean, the green, misty mass of the rain forest rose up, filling the entire end of the dome.
And I was about to pass out. I reached into my pocket with a violently shaking hand, took out the bottle of pills. I shook one out, popped it in my mouth, and swallowed it.
'He's coming, Mr. Mongo!' Vicky screamed.
I spun around and was astonished to see Tanker Thompson, blood running down over his bruise-colored face, hobbling up the road toward us, dragging his left leg along behind him. He was holding the fire ax firmly in his hands, occasionally using it as a crutch.
Although the amphetamine certainly couldn't have had time to work its way into my bloodstream, the sight of the ax-wielding Tanker Thompson making his way up the road had a near-miraculous effect on my nervous system and energy level. It was motivational. Vicky ran on ahead of me as, pumping my arms and gasping in the fetid air, I managed to shuffle along at a pretty good pace across the feces-covered sand to the boats. There was a two- bladed paddle next to the kayak. I gave the rowboat a shove with my foot, sending it out into the water, then sat Vicky down in the front portal of the kayak. I slid into the back, pushed against the sand with my paddle, and we glided out over the greenish-brown water.
I grabbed the two-bladed paddle in the center, with my hands about two feet apart, then began paddling, stroking first on one side, then the other. I tried to concentrate on keeping my pace steady, for it seemed an impossibly long distance across the polluted body of water, and I knew I was very near the edge of my energy reserves. I'd needed the pill, because I'd been close to collapsing, but now I was having a reaction. I wasn't having the near-hallucinations I'd experienced before, but it felt like there was a ball of fire in my stomach-and the ball was gradually growing hotter as it expanded, sending tongues of flame throughout the rest of my body. I didn't like the sensation at all.
'Vicky,' I said to the child in a stranger's voice that shocked me with its raw hoarseness. 'You have to point out to me where we have to go.'
'I. . I'm not sure, Mr. Mongo. Daddy never took me over there when it was dark like this.'
'Do the best you can, sweetheart. We have to land as close to the machine as possible.'
Vicky hesitated, then pointed off to the right at a forty-five-degree angle. 'I think it's over there, Mr. Mongo.'
