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fours.
There are shetani with more than one head, Olkeloki was saying, and the two
are not necessarily alike. There are shetani whose faces dangle from the ends
of their arms in place of hands, and shetani with mouths bigger than their
bodies. There are shetani as tall as giraffes, like the Likutu, or the
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dangerously playful like the Adinkula. Some shetani practice witchcraft. The
Liyama eat only clay and water.
The Siwawi eat fish and live in the ocean, but come out on land to suck
energy out of each other's tongues, and the Chingwele eat only snakes. They
have sharp blades growing from their heads and arms.
There are three kinds of chameleon shetani: those who resemble ordinary
reptiles, those as big as your arm, and some who grow to the size of a cow.
You do not ever want to encounter one of those.
Why not? asked Merry.
Do you know how a chameleon eats? He went into graphic detail until Merry
looked mildly disgusted and Oak decided to put an end to these fantasies once
and for all. It was time to get serious, time to take the masks off and find
out who they were really up against.
What I don't understand, he said casually, is that if these shetani are
around us all the time, why we don't see more of them?
You do not know how to look for them. Also, most shetani move about only at
night, when people sleep. They usually avoid people. Now that the way from the
Out Of is weakening, that is beginning to change. But once you see one
clearly, you will always be able to see them. It is both a blessing and a
curse, because as you become able to see them, so they will be more aware of
your awareness.
Sometimes it is better to dwell in ignorance. That is a luxury we can no
longer afford. He looked out the right side of the car and spoke again before
Oak could offer his next carefully thought-out objection.
Never have I seen so many shetani, so bold and numerous. They must have been
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gathering for many years to be present in an ilmeet country in such numbers.
Oak looked sharply to his right, saw nothing unusual, and made a quick scan of
the terrain ahead and off to the left. The car swerved slightly and Merry
threw him a cautioning glance.
There's nothing out there but trees and highway, old man.
They cover themselves with darkness. That is why they cling to the forests
and the night. But they are here, yes. They are all around us, clever little
killers that they are. I think they are enjoying the warm sun.
They must have worked long and hard to perfect such disguises.
For a second time Oak surveyed the highway, saw nothing but pavement, trees,
an occasional house.
Cars and trucks flashed by in the opposing lanes.
The next time we pass one of these things, you point it out to me as we go
by.
Very well. It may be dangerous for us. As I said, the shetani usually leave
people alone in broad daylight unless they feel others are aware of their
presence. Then they may react.
I'll take that chance.
Are you sure, Josh?
Look, woman, he told Merry in no-nonsense tones, don't you understand
what's happening here?
This isn't a damn game. We're getting ready to jump on a plane to fly halfway
around the world with an old man who may or may not be missing a few straws
from his bale because something or somebody is
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giving him and his tribe trouble. I'm convinced something happened to us
yesterday in that restaurant and elevator, but I'm still not sure what. Before
I go transatlantic, I'd like to be sure.
I do not understand all your words, Joshua Oak. Olkeloki was frowning.
No big deal. You just show me the first shetani we pass.
If you insist.
If Oak expected a long silence, he was disappointed. The old man looked out
the window to his right and pointed. There, three of them, hibernating as is
their wont.
What, where? Oak hit the brakes so hard that Merry had to use both hands to
keep from being thrown into the dash. Fortunately there was no one behind them
or they would have been rear-ended for sure.
The station wagon skidded to a stop on the shoulder, leaving black streaks on
the concrete. Oak backed up until they were parallel to the spot Olkeloki had
pointed out. Beyond the drainage ditch thick with phlox and ragweed lay
private forest, bushes, and grass.
Where? I don't see a damn thing. Are they back in the trees?
No, they are quite near. Oak snorted, started to open his door. I wouldn't
do that, the old man said hastily. They may be sensitized to you by now.
"What may be sensitized to me? Look, this has gone just about far enough. I
don't know what happened back at the restaurant, but I sure as hell don't see
any African aberrations running around out here.
Ignoring the old man's warning, he got out and walked around to the front of
the car. Merry Sharrow looked on anxiously, scanning the trees. The dog-thing
had disappeared into the trees, that rainy morning back home. She rolled down
her window.
Josh, maybe you ought to get back in.
The only things moving in the grass and bushes were birds and bugs. A couple
of cars going toward the airport whizzed past in the fast lane. Overhead a 747
lumbered southward, probably heading for South
America. When he'd first stepped out onto the pavement he'd felt nervous, then
silly. Now he was getting angry.
Why? You see anything, Merry?
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No, she admitted.
Olkeloki slid out of the back seat and walked up to stand alongside Oak. He
gestured with his walking stick, not into the woods but down into the ditch.
Merry strained to see. Oak didn't have to strain. It was so sad he couldn't
laugh. So the whole business yesterday had been some sort of illusion or
clever cover after all.
Three large, twisted black shapes lay on the edge of the ditch. They were
chunks of tire rubber, the kind of debris that's scattered along the banks of
every highway and interstate in the country. Whenever a big eighteen wheeler
loses a tire, the rubber shreds during disintegration, sending pieces of
itself flying in all directions. Eventually the fragments are bumped or pushed
to the sides of the roadways until cleanup
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crews can get to them.
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