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painful。
〃Have a drink； Chrissy；〃 he said。
The first shot blazed green agony as it went down。
And then Zillah made him drink another。
And then another。
Chapter 33
By the time they got back to Arkady's shop； Steve was running full tilt。 Ghost lost his breath trying to keep up。 Cold drops of sweat flew from them； catching the light of the street lamps。 Ghost licked salt off his lips。 The sweat in Steve's hair sparkled； as if his hair were full of a million tiny diamonds。
〃Hurry up；〃 Steve panted as they swung into the alley。 〃You've got the key。〃
Ghost fumbled with the key Arkady had given him； aware of Steve behind him wanting to wrest it out of his hand。 At last the door swung open。 The shop was very cold。 There was some other smell beneath the herbs and candles and incense； something dry； ready to crumble。 The mummy smell； Ghost thought。 That's what they smelled like。 Ghost had never seen a mummy； but his grandmother had looked at a bunch of them in a museum once。 They were all in glass boxes； she told him。 You couldn't smell them； but I knew just how they would smell。 Like spice kept in a jar too long。 Like rags hung up to dry for a thousand years。
Pink and black candle wax had melted onto the velvet dropcloth of the altar。 Steve took the stairs three at a time； kicking aside a heap of rags that lay across the top tread。 Ghost followed slowly。 There was a bad feeling here； a feeling of stillness； of nothing left alive。 He didn't want to go upstairs； but he knew he had to。
At the top of the stairs he nudged the heap of rags with the toe of his sneaker。 It rolled over and gaped up at him； lips stretched tight over teeth like chips of ivory。 A tiny half…dried trickle of blood seeped from the torn socket of its right eye。 Arkady must have summoned the last of his strength to pull the knife out of his robe and drive it into his eye socket。 Ghost had seen the knife on Arkady's nightstand； a long； lethal…looking thing with a jewelled handle and a ten…inch tapered blade。 His hands were still folded around the haft。 Ghost saw the gleam of precious stones between fingers like dry kindling。
Steve's boot had punched a sizable hole in Arkady's brittle rib cage。 Inside the body cavity； withered organs hung like empty wineskins； grayish…brown； already coated with a fine layer of dust。 How the twins must have loved Arkady； Ghost thought； how many wild nights they must have spent with him； to be able to suck him so utterly dry。 How could this bundle of shrivelled tissues have lived long enough to drive a knife into its own eye？
But the knife protruded from the socket in mute testimony。 Gently； Ghost pried Arkady's brittle fingers from the haft； drew the blade from Arkady's eye； and tried to tuck the white robe around the desiccated little body。 He closed Arkady's withered eyelids as carefully as he could； but they still flaked away beneath his fingers。
Then he made himself go into the bedroom。
The light was as flat and dead as neon； though it was only the light of the moon shining through the window。 Steve sat on the edge of the bed。 Beside him was a hump swathed in bloody sheets。 Steve's face had gone an absolute； eerie white。 Thick blood coated his hands。 He raked his fingers through his hair； matting it and streaking his forehead。 〃She's dead；〃 he said。
〃Are you sure？〃
Steve laughed the most hopeless laugh Ghost had ever heard。 〃Oh yeah。 I'm sure。 e here and get a good look； why don't you？〃 Ghost stepped closer to the bed； and Steve yanked the sheet back。
Ann lay on her side； twisted into an attitude that was painful to look at。 Her neck craned stiffly back。 Her face was a grimace of pain。 Crusted rivulets of blood ran from the corners of her mouth。 Her hands were thrust between her outstretched legs as if she had been clawing at herself。 Blood slimed her arms to the elbows like gory gloves。 Most of the bandages had e unravelled； or Ann had torn them away。 They lay in a sodden heap beside the bed。 The sheet beneath Ann's hips was a black nightmare of blood。 She had bled so much that the sheet and the mattress could not absorb it all； the overflow pooled in the wrinkles and depressions of the bedclothes； clotting as thick and dark as jelly。
Cupped in Ann's hands； half…encased in a glob of gelatinous blood； Ghost saw a pale shape no larger than a red bean： the dot of an eye； the veined bubble of a skull； tiny fingers like the petals of sea anemones： He looked away。
Four A。M。 is when all my dreams die； Ann had told him。 It would always be four A。M。 for her now； nothing could ever get her through this last； longest night。
〃You know what？〃 Steve laughed again and shoved his bloody hair back。 〃There's even blood on her eyeballs。 How the fuck did it get on her eyeballs？ What did he give her？ What did we give her？〃 He stared wildly around the room； at the dusty walls； the cobwebbed ceiling。 He met Ghost's eyes； but there was no sign of recognition in his empty stare。 A long shudder ran through him。
Then he seemed to pull himself together。 His eyes were no longer blank； they shone with the glaze of alcohol and unhealthy resolve。 〃I'm gonna kill them；〃 he said。 〃You found Ann。 You can find where they live。 And you're gonna take me there and help me kill them all。〃
Ghost had to moisten his lips before he spoke。 〃I don't want to kill anybody；〃 he said。
〃Yeah？〃 Steve grinned his humorless grin。 〃Then how e you're holding that ？〃
Ghost looked down at his hand。 He was holding Arkady's jewelled knife。 The slender blade was dazzling in the cold neon light。
Ghost raised his eyes back to Steve's。 Slowly he shook his head。
〃Fuck you； then！〃 Steve jumped up and bolted onto the landing； heading for the stairs。 Ghost started to follow。
But before he reached the door； he turned back and dug a handkerchief out of one of his pockets。 Quickly； without thinking much about it； he took the head of the foetus between thumb and forefinger and extracted it from the lump of congealed blood。 The back of his hand brushed Ann's inner thigh； it was scaly with dried gore。
The tiny skull was still warm； and for a moment the sticky skin seemed to twitch between his fingers。 But that was only his hand trembling。 He wrapped the foetus in his handkerchief and tucked the bundle into his pocket。
Out on the landing； Steve snatched Arkady's withered corpse up by the front of its robe and slammed it against the wall。 The brittle cranium shattered。 Dust sifted from the cavity； powdered Steve's hands； mingled with Ann's blood。
〃What'd you do to her？〃 Steve yelled into the ruined face。 〃What was that stuff？。 Drano？ Why did we trust you？〃
He kicked the body down the stairs。 At the bottom it crumbled； the white robe settling over a pile of dust and splintered bones。 Steve followed it。
Ghost ran down after him and tried to grab him； but Steve was already raging through the shop。 He kicked Arkady's altar； and it crashed over； though Ashley's skull was nowhere to be seen。 He tore the beaded curtain down。 Bright bits of plastic skittered across the floor。 He swept rows of bottles and boxes off the shelves。 Strange pungent smell