They rode in silence for a little while, except for the sound of Taylor’s sobbing breath. Then they turned into a dirt road, darker, winding.
Kells said: “Where’s Rose?”
Taylor sobbed, mumbled unintelligibly.
Gilroy turned around and looked at Taylor with hurt, softly animal eyes. Then he looked at Kells, and Kells nodded. There was a little light from a covered globe on the dashboard. Gilroy kept looking at Kells until he nodded again and then Gilroy tapped Faber’s arm; the car stopped, the headlights were switched off.
Kells took the big automatic out of a shoulder holster. He opened the door and put one foot out on the running board, and then he spoke over his shoulder to Borg: “Bring him out here. We don’t want to mess up the car.”
Taylor screamed and Borg clapped his hand over his mouth — then Taylor was suddenly silent, limp. His eyes were wide and white and his lips moved.
Borg said, “Come on — come on,” and then he saw that Taylor couldn’t move and he put his arms around him and half shoved, half lifted him out of the door of the car. Taylor couldn’t straighten his legs. He put one foot on the running board and his knees gave away and he fell down in the road.
Gilroy got out on the other side, said: “Ah’m goin’ to walk up the road a piece.” His voice trembled. He went into the darkness.
Taylor was moaning, threshing around in the dust.
Kells squatted beside him. Then he straightened up and spoke to Faber: “Pull up about thirty feet.”