When Joel got back to the hospital in Des Moines he was still sweating horribly. Naturally he was exhausted from having to pedal all the way out to the border in the first place. Being able to make the trip back to Des Moines by vehicle was certainly an indulgence greatly appreciated by his battered body. But as for Joel Rotierre's soul, well, sadly there was to be no such respite. He huddled in the back seat crouched in the fetal position, intermittently sobbing, as he tried to contemplate the horror of what he had done.
Joel tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to rationalize how he wasn't really a bad person. After all, Jerry himself had said that he was a good person. That counted for something right? But what did Jerry think was a good person? Joel was shocked to find that for as long as he had known Jerry, he really didn't have the slightest idea. All Jerry ever liked to talk about was who deserved to die. Talking about who deserved to live, well, that was never a meaningful or relevant part of the discussion.
Cassidy had always told them as much. It was far easier to destroy than it was to build. There were never very many of them, back when this all started. But they had their ways of exerting influence. Of playing upon the fears and prejudices, of those who deserved to die. Joel had always felt there was something monstrous about their little club, yet never had the courage to do anything about it. From the very first he collaborated, even while whimpering impotent threats of turning them all in.
Joel had done this because he knew deep down that the rest of them were right. Joel had started out studying political science back in college. He thought it would be useful, given just how dark and deadly the thirties had become. Sanitation engineering was a very distant choice on his or anybody else's list of favored majors. Most people didn't even know their school had it. Yet as Joel came to learn, both from class and experience, theory was never going to save anyone's life. Only action. And things would have to get worse before they would get better.
Had they finally arrived at the lowest possible point? Could better people than their sorry lot hope to build a new world their descendants could actually be proud of? Joel didn't know. The weight of eternity tortured his soul as Joel contemplated the tens of thousands or even the millions of years humanity could exist. All limitless, possibly unsolvable suffering. Yet to what end? Need there be an end? Or a purpose? What was Joel's purpose? Or anyone else's? Did they have one? Did it matter?
As Joel rushed up the stairway of the hospital to find Cassidy's room, these were the questions he hoped to find answers too. But even Joel himself knew, as always, that he hadn't the courage to ask them. He crashed open the door. Cassidy roused up sleepily.
"Joe?" she said, yawning through the dark. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I came as soon as I heard the news!" Joel whispered, in a tone of voice that sounded like shouting.
"Why are your clothes covered in blood?" asked Cassidy, her eyes squinting through darkness. "And could you turn the light on? Visitors can come whenever they please here. You're not bothering anyone."
Reluctantly Joel turned on the light. This was the first time he had gotten a good look at himself since the murder. His clothes were covered in blood and sweat. Joel took a whiff of them and found the smell utterly appalling. He shuddered as he fell down to the floor bowing.
"I can only beg your forgiveness!" he cried out weeping.
"Forgiveness for what?" asked Cassidy, still perplexed. "What could you possibly be up to that would bother me? After all the people we've killed...oh..."
Cassidy sat quietly, just looking at Joel. Then she turned to look outside the window, admiring the full moon. She let loose a long sigh.
"Well that confirms it," she said. "I don't know how he did it, but Jerry disrupted the dream cycle. We can't use it to predict future events anymore. Anyone of the rest of us could die at any time now. I guess I should be thankful, given my own lifespan has been extended at the expense of the rest of you. But I don't feel thankful."
"I don't care if I die!" said Joel, refusing to show his face. "I committed the worst crime imaginable! I murdered my best friend!"
"You were always going to kill him," Cassidy said, shrugging. "Surely I've mentioned this to you before, haven't I? It was both your fates. Jerry never cared. He always wanted to die young, when it was still cool and fashionable to be mean and hateful. Jerry didn't want to become one of those crotchety old impotent men, hating visions of the world he thought he knew rather than the real one right in front of him."
"All the same, I do not deserve forgiveness," said Joel, weeping. "I pray that my death will be drawn out and miserable."
"Well if that's actually what you want," said Cassidy, rolling your eyes. "Esther will be along soon. And I'm sure she'll be eager to deliver that to you once she's found out what you've done."
"Esther?" asked Joel. "But why?"
"Esther likes me," said Cassidy, "for the same generally sad and distressing reasons she likes you and liked Jerry I'm sure. Her existence is a pitiable one. She needed purpose. Just as the Rainbow Shirts took away her old one now you've taken away her new one. I don't have any idea what we're going to do with her now. She can only derive joy from brutality and suffering now. At least Jerry had a way to aim her."
"I couldn't allow that," said Joel. "The world Jerry Shankar would have brought us was one of death and destruction. There has to be another way."
"You forget that Jerry wasn't the only factor at play," said Cassidy. "There were still the other Gods to contend with and all together we could have created a steady equilibrium. I shudder to think what you've wrought on the world now that this precious balance has been wrecked. A world caught between two horrific alternatives is bad but allowing only one to rule unopposed is even worse."
Joel and Cassidy sat still in their places, quiet and not looking at each other. Finally Cassidy turned to Joel and observed the miserable state he was in. It was bad enough she wanted to take pity on the man. She decided to give him an answer.
"You must have his car," said Cassidy. "You can go back and find the Other Gods. You can come up with a plan to deal with Esther. I can stall her for you. There's going to be a fireworks show tonight. I imagine I can stall her that long."
"No," said Joel quietly.
"What do you mean no?" asked Cassidy baffled. "You're just going to stay here and let her kill you?"
"I'm not running anymore," said Joel, standing up and gritting his teeth. "That's not what she would have done."
"Not what who would have done?" asked Cassidy. "You're talking nonsense Joel. I can't understand you."
"I need to accept that this is my last night on Earth," said Joel.
And with that he walked out the door. Joel climbed his way to the rooftop, thankful that roof access was banned. He smashed open the lock and stood outside facing the exterior door, ready to meet his maker.