The Last Handful of Clover - Book 3: The Stone in the Stream

3.21 The Only Other Thing He Cares About

"And besides," Howard went on, sounding as if he was trying desperately to get his emotions under control. "Right now, my priority is protecting those two men out there. It's what you asked me to do. To get Keith out of here. I'm still going to do that. It's what I was trying to do before everything went to shit. I failed at the gas station, and now Michelle's dead, and I'll never forgive myself for that. And that's another reason I can't abandon them. Richard, I can't save this city, but I can save these two. I can save Keith. Be fucking grateful for that."

Pil felt his throat closing up at the mention of Michelle, and how Howard blamed himself for her death. His first impulse was to rush into the room and reassure the boy that he didn't blame him for what had happened. But something kept him firmly rooted in place, continuing to listen.

"You and Billy go to Dugway," Howard said, "if that's what you want to do. When you get there, find somebody else to use. Hopefully, a soldier with a gun. But you're staying out of my fucking head."

All at once, Howard's agitation quieted, and he turned to his right shoulder, as if he was looking at one of the two ghosts, who had spoken to him softly. The boy smiled.

"It's okay, Richard. After killing you, I think it's the least I can do," he said.

Pil felt for Howard in that moment, so tormented by the guilt of what he had been forced to do, that he was now committing to save him and Keith, almost out of penance. Michelle had definitely been right about the boy's character. Pil didn't think that he'd have that much strength and courage, had the shoe been on the other foot.

It was at that moment that the one-sided conversation went off the rails.

Pil could tell that something serious had shifted—not because of anything Howard said, but just because of the demeanor the boy was projecting. Indeed, he didn't even speak for the better part of a minute, but the anxiety and disgust that welled up in the boy's body was shocking. And yet, not as shocking as what he said, when he finally spoke again.

"Richard, weren't you listening to me?" Howard asked. "You have no idea how much of a violation it is to be possessed. I told you it feels like rape. It fucking is rape! Who knows how many times you'd have to possess Pil to make him into a medium? How could you do that to him?"

Pil's vision went blurry.

Had he heard that correctly? Was Richard proposing to turn him into a medium? Howard had explained to them last night that the way this had happened to him was through multiple possessions by the ghost of Justin Kimball, and that it was something that almost never happened in the world of the dead. Becoming a medium was something that could only happen through the traumatic process of being possessed over and over again. Howard was convinced it had nearly destroyed him.

And now, Richard was proposing to do that to him?

He had no idea why Richard would propose such a thing, but it infuriated him, and every uncharitable thought he'd ever had about Keith's lover poured over and through him.

That son of a bitch, Pil fumed. That unmitigated, selfish bastard...

Pil cleared his throat and stepped into the doorway.

Howard turned around, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and Pil took a single step forward and into the room. He knew that when he was angry, he could be a terrifying sight to behold, and he couldn't remember a time in his life when he was as angry as he was in this moment. He just glared at Howard and then looked about the boy at the empty room. Part of him wanted to grab Howard's crowbar, which was lying across the table, and take his best shot at where he thought Richard might be. Even though he knew that doing so would accomplish nothing more than sending the bastard back to the living room behind him.