Laura decided she needed to find a place of power. The cultists had had twelve chanters trying to open a Cthulhu-sized hole—she hoped she could open a Laura-sized hole by herself, or maybe with somebody's help. She called Elaine on her cell phone. After some nice preliminaries, Laura said, "Uh, I have something really strange to ask you."
"Oh my God," Elaine said, "please tell me this isn't the 'I'm straight but curious' conversation. I've really done that enough."
"No, I'm not—I mean, I am curious, but not straight—I mean, I'm curious about—anyway, no, I mean, you've been to Cincinnati before, right?"
"This is my third trip."
"So what are the big important places? I mean, places where there are important buildings, places where people congregate, stuff like that."
"Well, there are the stadiums down by the river, and there's a big park there too . . . ." Water. Was that important for a place of power? She couldn't remember what those new agey websites had said about that. "Let me see . . . I mean, I really don't know much outside of downtown . . . there's the fountain right outside the hotel here. It's kind of like the center of downtown. I guess they have like lunchtime concerts there and stuff. People eat lunch there in the daytime. "
Laura wondered—riverfront or fountain? Well, there was water in both places, and if the fountain was the center of downtown, it might be a place of power. Well, she could always try the riverfront if the fountain didn't work. "Okay. I'll try the fountain. Where is it?"
"Fifth Street, between Walnut and Race."
"Great. Can you meet me there in half an hour?"
"Uh . . . I suppose so. Why?"
"I—I really have to—I can tell you in person."
"Okayyyyy. See you then, I guess."
"Thanks!"
Well. So now Laura was throwing her trust at some random woman, just like Ted would've done. It wasn't really her, but she needed an assistant, and Elaine was pretty much her only choice. It wasn't like she could call Marrs for backup on this one.
Once she reached Downtown Cincinnati, Laura parked in a public garage and booted up her laptop. She played the video of Ted's Last Stand again, listening closely to the audio. She tried to block out the sound of Ted screaming and just focus on what the cultists were chanting. She played it through three times until she was sure she had it. She wrote a phonetic transcription of the incantation on her arm in permanent marker. She was pretty sure she remembered it, but she had no idea what a trip through a rip in space-time might do to her memory.
Even still, the incantation might not work from the other side. It might be Earth-specific. In which case, assuming they were even alive, she'd be stuck there with Ted and his girlfriend forever, which sounded kind of suspiciously like something Jean-Paul Sartre would have dreamed up. From the unspeakable horror of the Old Ones to the nauseating horror of the meaninglessness of existence in one short trip! Or would it be a short trip? Laura found she was as nervous as she had ever been. It occurred to her that she might just die. It would be safer, and better, and more practical for her to stay alive and kill vampires and hunt down evil and mourn the death of her friend. Unless, of course, he wasn't dead, in which case she'd never really sleep again, wondering if she could have done more. No. The hell with it. She was going to do the best she could. And maybe if there was a God watching over everything, She would help Laura find her friend.
She walked to Fountain Square and wondered if she would find Elaine there. She put her chances at about fifty-fifty. Why was she even doing this? She didn't really need any help, did she? But then, if Elaine did help, and Laura ever made it back, Elaine would have to believe, and then . . . Well, that was a stupid way to think about somebody you talked to for an hour on an airplane.
The fountain was a large, greenish sculpture with what looked like a woman on top with water pouring out of the downward-facing palms of her hands. Spotlights illuminated other figures with water pouring over them, and there, standing in front of the fountain, was Elaine.
"Hi! Thank you so much for showing up! I really had no idea if you would or not!"
"Yeah," Elaine smiled. "It was about fifty-fifty, but I've already seen everything on HBO tonight, and I figured if you turn out not to be completely insane, you might be like spontaneous and fun or something."
Laura couldn't help laughing. She looked back on her entire life and wondered if anyone had ever considered her spontaneous or fun. Maybe before the fire, a little bit, but that was a different person, a different life. Well, maybe this was too.
"Well, what I'm going to say here is not really going to convince you that I'm not nuts. I'm going to stand here and say some strange words, and if you could say them along with me, that would probably help. I'm also going to be playing a video of people chanting the same thing. If all goes well, I'm going to . . . okay, here's where you write me off as a complete nut, but anyway, if all goes well, I'm going to disappear."
She could read the "Oh, shit, she really is a whack job" look on Elaine's face and just hoped she could get her to play along.
"I know, I know how insane that sounds, especially because I mean really disappear, not in a like David Copperfield way. Anyway, in the event that something goes wrong, I'm gonna need you to just take my phone and press and hold the one button. A guy will answer, and if you just tell him what's happened, he'll hopefully fix it. Also, I've downloaded a worm that's going to wipe my hard drive about five minutes after I leave. If you can just double check and make sure that happens, I'd really appreciate it."
"Uh, okay, sure . . . ."
You complete freakin' psycho
was left unsaid, but it was fairly clear.
"Okay . . . Ah, you're not gonna do the chant with me, are you?"
"I don't really see that happening."
"Okay then." Laura's heart was pounding. Thoughts were trying to bubble up from somewhere deep in her brain. Is this the last thing I'll ever see? If I die, will this be enough to redeem my betrayal of Ted? What about all the people . . . .
With great effort, Laura silenced all her fears, all her regrets. She was not going to die. She was just going to do a quick disappearing act, and then she'd be right back after these messages. Right. It crossed her mind to give Elaine a quick kiss, but this would almost certainly send her running back to the Westin, and she really did hope Elaine would be able to call Marrs and fix things if she accidentally opened a Cthulhu-sized hole in space and time and caused the return of the Old Ones. Well, he had the book, right?
Instead of a kiss, she said, "You really seem like something special, and I hope we can get to know each other better when I get back."
Elaine said nothing. Laura handed her the cell phone and turned away. She put the volume up as high as it would go on her pathetic, tinny little speakers and started the video. Along with the cultists, she chanted,
"Yog-Sothoth, flshrauv, Yog-Sothoth, sil'iah, menduru, Yog-sothoth, r'lauggggggg . . . Yog-Sothoth, R'lyeh mesha'al . . . Cthulhu."
Nothing happened. On the video, a rift was opening. Maybe Laura had been wrong—maybe this wasn't a place of power, or maybe one person chanting wouldn't get it. The cultists restarted their chant, now interrupted by the occasional scream as shoppers noticed the rift or Ted and Cayenne taking cultists down.
Laura was disappointed, but at least now she could tell herself that she'd done the most she could do, and she'd obviously messed up her chances with Elaine, but she'd done right by Ted at least. Nobody could say she hadn't done everything she could have possibly done for him; she'd disobeyed orders, put a mid-sized city at risk, she'd made an attractive stranger think she was nuts—now she could sleep easy and . . .
Five feet in front of her, something glowed with a sickly greenish-yellow light. As Laura watched, the rift opened. It grew to about the size of a ten-year-old child, then stabilized. All of Laura's relief drained away and was replaced by panic. She forced herself to walk forward and tossed this in Elaine's direction: "It's just never easy to do the right thing, is it?" she said.
"Uh, I guess not," a stunned Elaine said quietly. Without looking back, Laura stepped into the rift.
Ted and Cayenne had disentangled, and they had been lying in place for several years. They'd talked about being bored, they'd exchanged detailed life stories, and Ted was contemplating whether it was time for sex again when he heard a sound.
It sounded like vomiting. He sat up and looked at Cayenne, who was sitting up and looking at him.
"Who's puking?"
"I don't know. Cthulhu?"
Ted pondered this for a moment. "I think . . . It sounds too small to be Cthulhu."
"Where's it coming from?"
"Aw, who the hell can tell. Let's go outside, or maybe inside, up, down, whatever, let's walk!" Ted heard the inappropriate enthusiasm in his voice. Something was happening! It might well be something bad—but there was such a flood of relief in Ted's guts that he didn't even care. He wanted back on the wheel, and if things were changing, the wheel was turning, and maybe, after all these centuries, he could get back on.
"Hold my hand," Cayenne said. "I don't want to lose you again." Ted grabbed her hand. The thought of being all alone, of never finding Cayenne again, of spending decades more walking through the streets, canals, skyways, or possibly sewers of R'lyeh looking for her was too awful to contemplate.
Hand in hand, Ted and Cayenne strode through the doorway. Whatever it was, it had to be close, because although it sounded faint, they simply wouldn't have heard anything at all if it had been far away. But he saw nothing.
They heard another retch, and then sobbing. Ted looked up, or, anyway, in a direction other than straight ahead, and saw her. Laura was hunched over in a pool of vomit, crying.
Without thinking, Ted ran down the wall, or up the ceiling, dragging Cayenne with him. "Laura!" he called. "Laura! What are you doing here?"
Laura raised her head. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there was puke in the ends of her hair. "Ted!" she screamed. She rose to her feet and ran to him. Ted dropped Cayenne's hand and hugged Laura as hard as he could.
"Oh my God, Ted, it was so awful, so fucking awful, everything was lost, everything was useless, everything . . . Oh, God, I thought it would never end, it . . . oh, God, it made me insane!" and she cried and cried, and Ted held her, and he felt good about being able to comfort her for a change.
"Oh, God, Ted, I'm sorry I was such a bitch, I'm sorry, I . . . "
"Shh. That was at least two lifetimes ago for me. I'm not mad. I'm sorry too."
Laura looked over Ted's shoulder and said, "Oh! Hi there!" to the naked Cayenne. "Wow, I didn't know you could pierce that!"
"Hey." Cayenne answered. She sounded pissed. Well, Ted had told her Laura was a lesbian, but he guessed if Cayenne had just dropped his hand like a hot potato and run naked to embrace her gay male friend, he might be feeling a twinge of jealousy. He pulled away from Laura.
"Jesus! You're naked!" Laura said.
Ted's chest felt wet and cold. "And you're covered in puke." He said.
All three of them looked at each other for a minute.
"Well," Laura said. "This looks like a charming little love nest, but what do you say we get out of here?"
"Oh my God, really?" Cayenne said. Ted saw the tears in her eyes and felt the tears in his own. It was really way too good to be true.
Laura was rolling up her sleeve, and there was writing on her arm.
"Cheater!" Ted couldn't help saying. "You'll get a zero on the exam, Ms. Harker."
"Ted, shut up. You guys ready? We have to read this a couple times through, and hopefully it'll take us back. And if not . . . well, we're fucked." She paused. "Or at least you guys are. Ready? One . . . two . . . "
Ted started, with "Cthulhu," while Laura said, "three."
Laura and Cayenne looked annoyed at him. "You didn't let me get to three, Ted."
"I thought it would be
on
three, like one, two, Cthulhu, not one, two, three, Cthulhu."
"Jesus!" Cayenne said. "It's one, two, three, Cthulhu, okay?"
"Okay, okay." Once again Laura counted, and this time the three of them began the chant. They chanted through once, twice, three times, four times. It wasn't working. Nothing was happening. Except then the ground beneath, or possibly above them, began to shake.
"It's not working!" Laura said. She sounded panicked. "We're going to be stuck here!"
Suddenly Ted had a brainstorm. "Wait! I've got it! We're saying the chant with R'lyeh in it!"
Laura looked at him like he was a complete idiot. "Well, that's the chant, Ted."
"No! We're
in
R'lyeh! That must be the chant to get here! Maybe we just have to say Providence instead of R'lyeh to get to Providence!"
Laura looked at him. "Well, it's worth a try. But it's not Providence. It's Cincinnati."
"Cincinnati? Why?"
Cayenne interrupted. "Who gives a shit? Can we just get out of here?"
Ted looked around. Behind them, buildings, or whatever those forms were, appeared to be collapsing. And then they heard it.
It was the loudest thing Ted had ever heard. This was saying something, given the sound-deadening qualities of this place. The closest Ted could come to describing it was a roar, but it was a roar like a tornado was a breeze. And suddenly, Ted felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was afraid.
"Oh shit, " Cayenne said. "He's awake."
"What?" Laura said. She looked scared.
"Cthulhu," Ted said. "He sounds pissed. We must have woken him up."
"What the hell are we going to do?" Cayenne yelled.
"Keep chanting," Laura said. "On three!" She looked at Ted.
Ted, Cayenne, and Laura chanted, making sure to substitute "Cincinnati" for "R'lyeh". Ted didn't see a rift, but it looked like the air in front of them might be shimmering a little bit. He was finding it hard to stand up because whatever was under him was shaking so hard. They said the chant again, and again, and the roaring continued, and Cthulhu must have exhaled, or farted, or something, because if it was at all possible, it suddenly smelled worse here than it ever had. Everything was swimming in front of Ted's eyes, but he didn't know if that was because they were rending reality or just because Cthulhu's breath had that effect.