Nightworld (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack) (17 page)

BOOK: Nightworld (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack)
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Why?
Did it have anything to do with the
Dat-tay-vao
?

She couldn’t let them hurt Jeffy. She’d risk anything to protect him. Even …

“Ba, do you remember that older man who was here the other day? He left a card on the foyer table. I told Gladys to throw it away. Do you know if she did?”

“No, Missus.”

“Oh. Then I guess I’ll have to wait until she arrives. I may just have to—”

She noticed that Ba was holding out a piece of paper.

“Gladys did not throw it away.”

She took the card.
G. Veilleur
was embossed at its center.

She looked at Ba and saw only devotion and fierce loyalty in his eyes. But she remembered the fear there last night when he’d pulled her away from that mucus creature. Alan wanted her to contact the old man, and Ba obviously agreed.

Now it was unanimous.

“Thank you, Ba.”

With her heart weighing heavy in her chest, she headed back to the house, hoping her cell phone was working again by now.

 

WNYW-TV

 

Hello, I’m Alice Gray, and we interrupt our usual Saturday morning programming to bring you this special news report. Sunrise was late again for the fourth morning in a row. But it never rose at all for many of our fellow New Yorkers. As most of you are no doubt already aware, chaos reigned in Manhattan last night as the midtown area became the set of the world’s goriest horror movie. Except these horrors were real. Real people died, hundreds of them, perhaps as many as a thousand. The police and emergency services are still counting at this time. And these are the killers.


From what we can gather, these creatures flew out of the hole in Central Park and attacked everyone in sight, leaving the streets littered with corpses. They were indiscriminate in their choice of targets, attacking men, women, children, even dogs and cats, creating a reign of bloody terror. But shortly before dawn they fled, forming swarms that streamed along the streets back to here …


Witnesses described the smaller swarms gathering and mingling above the mysterious Central Park hole, swelling to a huge swirling mass before plummeting again into the depths of the earth where they originated.


But what are these things? No live specimens are available, but dead ones abound. It appears that the ones that didn’t make it back to the hole before dawn died in the daylight. People have already begun referring to them as “vampire bugs.” Scientists from a variety of fields—biology, chemistry, even paleontology (that’s the study of fossils)—are working at identifying the creatures and devising ways to combat them. State and federal authorities have already arrived and are conducting studies to find a way to prevent them from getting loose again. Talk of placing a huge metal mesh over the hole is circulating.


But that may prove futile. Chilling news just in from Long Island and New Jersey of other bottomless holes, identical to the one in our own Central Park, opening up in a Bayside cemetery, Glen Cove, Hackensack, and other places. These reports are unconfirmed as yet, but we have a team racing to St. Ann’s Cemetery in Bayside at this very moment and will bring you live coverage from Queens as soon as they arrive and set up.…

 

Gatherings

 

Manhattan

 

Glaeken handed the drawings of the necklaces to Jack and watched the younger man study them. These were Xeroxes. He had the parchment originals safely tucked away in a vault.

“Good,” Jack said, nodding appreciatively. “Great detail. Just what I need. Where’d you get them?”

“I’ve kept them in a series of safe places over the years on the outside chance that I’d need them someday. That day is here.”

“Yeah,” Jack said glumly. He rubbed his gauze-wrapped forearm. “I guess it is.”

He rose from the chair and began pacing the living room, folding the drawings into a neat square as he roamed. Glaeken sensed the tension coiled within the man, the frustration boiling just under the skin. Jack was used to solving problems, usually other people’s problems. Now he himself was faced with a problem for which he had no solution.

“It’s like a butcher shop out there. I saw those things come out of that hole last night. And now there’s rumors of other holes opening up all over the place.”

“They’re not rumors. I believe I told you—”

“I know.” Jack slowed and stopped as he passed the window. “I know you told me.” He pointed out toward the park. “Thousands of those holes? Really?
Thousands
of them?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What’s going to keep one from opening up right under your building and swallowing it up?”

“I doubt very much that will happen. That would be too quick—mercifully quick. Rasalom wants me to witness the death throes of civilization before he comes for me. Besides, those holes cannot open just anywhere. They must locate at specific points in order to connect with the … other place. You’ve seen the map.”

“On the Lady’s back, yeah.”

“Wherever a pair of the crisscrossing lines intersect—”

“But with swarms of those things pouring out through thousands of holes, the whole planet will be overrun. I’m sure we can find ways to exterminate the bugs, but—”

“The belly flies and chew wasps are just the first wave. Worse things are on the way.”

Jack was slowly shaking his head as he stared out the window. “What could be worse than those little horrors last night?”


Bigger
horrors. But only during the hours of darkness. They must return to the holes before sunrise.”

“Swell. I mean, that’s a big comfort, isn’t it, what with the sunlit hours shrinking day by day.” Jack held up the folded drawings. “You’re telling me these necklaces will help close up the holes?”

“They’ll give us a chance. Without them we might as well quit right now.”

“All right.” Jack shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. “Sounds crazy to me, but crazy seems to be in charge.”

“Very true. But don’t go yet. There are some people I want you to meet.”

“I already know Bill.”

“Not Bill. He’s still with a hospitalized friend. I don’t think he’ll be back today.”

He’d called last night to explain his absence and to relate what had befallen Nick. Glaeken had told him to do whatever he thought best for his friend.

But another call had come this morning—from Sylvia Nash. She told him what had transpired at her house last night. Glaeken had been shaken by the news. He had expected Rasalom’s forces to home in on the
Dat-tay-vao
eventually, but not so soon. Certainly not on the first night. The news increased the sense of urgency boiling within him.

Mrs. Nash had wanted him to come out to Monroe and see the damage, but Glaeken had refused. He wanted her—no, not her, the boy—
here
where he could watch over and protect him and the
Dat-tay-vao
residing within. With obvious reluctance, she had agreed to meet him here today.

“I must tend to my wife for a few moments,” he told Jack. “If the doorman announces a Mrs. Nash or a Mrs. Treece, tell him to send them up.”

Jack tore his gaze away from the window. “What? Oh, sure. Why are they coming?”

“I must explain the situation to them.”

“About the Conflict—the Ally and the Otherness?”

Glaeken nodded. “They need to know.”

“Tough sell.” He glanced out the window. “But after last night, maybe not so tough.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Jack jerked a thumb toward the rear rooms. “Go do what you have to. I’ll take care of things here.”

Glaeken headed for Magda’s room. He knew Repairman Jack was very good at taking care of things.

 

WFPW-FM

 

JO: We’ve had a lot of requests for this next record here on F-Rock’s All-Request Weekend. It’s loads older than the stuff we usually play, but I guess it’s got something to do with what happened last night.

 

Jack wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing at the window, mesmerized by all the furious activity in the Sheep Meadow, when the doorbell rang. He glanced down the hall where Glaeken had gone but saw no sign of him.

Well, he’d said to answer the door, so that was what he’d do.

Jack found the Odd Couple standing in the hall. He didn’t recognize Bill Ryan at first—the Roman collar and priest garb threw him off—as did the funny-looking younger guy with unfocused eyes, a stitched lip, and a dazed look on his puss. And was that drool in the corner of his mouth?

“Jack?” Ryan said. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I didn’t expect to be here.” Jack stepped out of the way.

Bill Ryan was taller than Jack, lots older, but looked fit. His face was battered and haggard and his blue eyes had the haunted look of a guy who’d seen too much of a bad thing.

Jack figured he might have the same look.

He led his shell-shocked companion into the living room and sat him on the sofa. He almost had to bend the guy’s knees to get him to sit. Then he turned to Jack.

“Where’s Glaeken?”

“Back with Magda.” Although he’d met Ryan a few times, he didn’t know much about him. He pointed to the Roman collar. “Is Halloween early or are you really—?”

“The
ex
kind. You know, I don’t recall ever catching your last name.” He seemed anxious to steer talk away from the priest thing.

“Jack’ll do.” Jack wanted to steer the talk away from names, so he nodded toward the guy on the sofa, and yeah, that was drool on his chin. “What happened to him?”

“That’s Doctor Nick Quinn. He’s one of the scientists who went down into the hole yesterday—the one who survived.”

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