"A thousand men yet none," Ann said. She walked beside me, leading the way with the flashlight beam.
We departed the chapel, leaving the candles to flicker behind us. I wasn't worried about anything catching fire in this damp tomb. And if it did, the city fathers would probably applaud me for an act of urban renewal.
The flies were gone, the plaza silent.
I shifted the kid to piggyback when we reached the thigh-high water. "She put on a pretty swell act for a virgin."
"You have to nowadays," the kid said.
"What's your name?" Ann asked.
The kid squirmed a bit. "Isadora Volante. And it's no act. They got their money's worth. Weren't you convinced?"
I had to admit that she had a wild talent. Just how wild she didn't seem to know.
"Look, kid-"
"It's Isadora," she snapped, "when I've got my clothes off."
"Right. Listen, you acted as if you didn't know what led us to you."
"I don't. You weren't just passing by?"
"Ki-Isadora, you lit up L.A. with enough special effects to shame Cecil B. DeMille."
She snorted. "Well, I never noticed it. All I knew was, that freako tried to kill me and there wasn't any way I could even touch the son of a bitch. I've bounced some weird stuff back at guys, but whatever was inside his head…" She quivered and hugged my neck tighter.
"Go easy on him," I said. "He's suffers from a massive inferiority complex."
A fluttering noise half-echoed from another part of the lower plaza. "Listen," I said. "More flies?"
"Too loud for that," Ann said.
"Let's change directions," I suggested. "We can try the northside escalators."
"Why?" Ann asked.
"Call it a hunch, call it intuition, call it a healthy cowardice. I don't think we should go back the way we came."
Ann nodded. "Lead the way."
I turned. The fluttering was behind us now. I jostled Isadora. "Hey," I asked softly, "you're not transmitting anything, are you?"
"Too tired." She leaned her chin on my shoulder.
The sound grew louder, like slabs of wet leather slapped lightly against one another. Ann and I waded as swiftly as we could.
I started to say, "Ann-".
And then they were on us.