World's End

Page 93

Spadrin's footsteps closed in on me, his hand on my arm wrenched me around. My eyes were fire-blind. He shoved me. He shoved me for the last time.

I don't remember the blow that tore my knuckles and bloodied his face. I don't remember the blow that knocked him down. I only remember that I was strangling him, beating his head against the ground, when my rage cleared again ... that my voice was raw from shouting curses, from shouting, "You killed him! You killed him!" over an dover an dover. Spadrin lay as limp and senseless as a rag toy when I let go of him at last, and his blood was the color of the stone.

I took the knife sheath from his arm and strapped it to my own. I got the guns from the vehicle's locker and threw them all over the cliff, except for the one that I slung at my back. Then I dragged Spadrin to the rover and poured half a bottle of ouvung over his head.

He came awake, cursing and dazed; he tried to get to his feet as soon as he recognized me. But he slid down again as his body refused to obey him. The look of disbelief on his face was almost funny. "Wha--?"

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I took a long drink from the open bottle, holding the gun on him. "All right, murderer," I said.

"I'm taking over this vehicle now." I kicked him. "Get inside. We're leaving."

Hatred and fear warred in his eyes. "You think you can take me back?" He pulled himself slowly up the rover's side.

I shook my head, and took another drink. "We're not going back. We're going to Fire Lake."

The fear stayed on his face, but his disbelief came

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JOAND. VINGE

back. "Fire Lake? You crazy--" His hand felt surreptitiously for his knife. His bruised mouth worked, but nothing came out of it for a long moment. "Why?"

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"I'm looking for something." I hurled the bottle away, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My hand was shaking. I tasted blood.

"Then you're looking for somebody to cut your throat

--and mine," Spadrin snarled. "I'm not going any deeper into this hell."