Black Fall

by D.J. Bodden

CHAPTER 19

  Edwards snatched his cap off the desk and put it on, severing the connection.

  “Billy! Take a walk! Frank, get in here!”

  There was muttering outside the door, and Frank walked in. Edwards waved him into the second chair in front of his desk, then he leaned back and rubbed his forehead with both hands, like he was developing a headache, and said, “You have a specter working for you.”

  With you, Madoc said to Jonas, annoyed.

  “Yes,” Jonas said.

  Frank raised an eyebrow and started to rise, but Edwards raised an index finger. The hunter relaxed back in his chair.

  “And there are two hundred—”

  “Two hundred and fourteen,” Jonas interrupted.

  “There are two hundred and fourteen freaks under the Agency… doing what?”

  “They’re supernaturals,” Jonas corrected. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know, what does the Order of Shadows do?”

  Edwards’ jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. “They want to end the tyranny of the sun, run naked in the moonlight, and enslave humanity… that about sums it up. Do they have weapons? Explosives?”

  “They have access to everything the Agency has, including the Serum for the vampires.”

  “And the Agency is going to roll over and let these fanatics use their gear because—”

  “Because the Director thought he could control a demon and it didn’t work out like he planned,” Jonas said, finishing the sentence.

  Frank sat quietly, his face impassive. Edwards looked at him and said, “Frank? Options?”

  Frank shrugged. “Can’t collapse the building. Government would have to respond, even if we explained. Plus, the British embassy’s a couple floors up. We’d be hiding in caves for the rest of our lives after a stunt like that. Elevator’s the only access point. They’d pick us off five at a time until we were all dead. Sewers aren’t an option; lost a team that way two years ago.”

  “There’s another entrance at ground level,” Jonas said.

  “Where?” Frank asked, sharply.

  “I don’t know.”

  Frank smirked.

  “Can’t your pet specter find it?” Edwards said.

  I am not your pet! Madoc shouted. A sheet of paper on Edwards’ desk fluttered to the floor.

  “No, he can’t. There’s a ward in place. It’s blocking his sight.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “They took her prisoner. Maybe my dad, too.”

  Edward’s eyes widened, then he shook his head. “Then you’re screwed, kid. We’re all screwed. No one’s going to believe this, not in time to do something about it.”

  I told you, Madoc said, sounding morose again.

  Edwards turned to Frank. “Start looking at contingencies. Get in touch with the cells in Philly and Baltimore, and tell them to be ready to—”

  “I have something they want,” Jonas interrupted. “A journal. The demon wants it badly enough to break into my apartment, twice, and risk getting the police involved.”

  Edwards looked at Frank.

  “Heard about it.” Frank said, nodding. “Eugene reported he got a call on a B&E, swore the kid who answered the door was messing with his head. Upper Eastside.”

  “That’s where I live,” Jonas said.

  “We know,” Edwards replied, rubbing his temples. “Just what is it you think we can do for you?”

  “I can get you in, and Madoc can give you the advantage if we destroy the ward. What I need is at least forty-three people, preferably carrying guns that have those little flash-toys you keep pointing at me, attached.”

  “How much time?” Frank asked.

  Jonas frowned. “Not long. The demon will probably have full control of the Director’s body by the middle of next week.”

  “Can’t do it, kid. New York’s freak city. It’s not as bad as Portland, but hunters aren’t welcome. I’ve only got ten, maybe fifteen trained men who can show up in that timeframe.” He looked at Edwards. “It will take us years to recover from this, if they die.”

  “Does that number include you?” Jonas asked.

  Frank’s upper lip twitched. “No. Not me, not Billy, not the boss, here.”

  “Then you can get eighteen.”

  Frank looked at Edwards, who nodded.

  “Fine, eighteen,” Frank said, wiping his face with his hand. “Kid, how many of my friends are you planning to get killed?”

  Madoc?

  Eighty percent casualties, ninety-three percent chance of mission failure with your current numbers, Madoc said.

  “Just get them here. I won’t ask your people to join in if there isn’t a good chance of success.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “We don’t have a choice, Frank. It’s a demon,” Edwards said. “You remember Charles Manson?”

  “I’m not that old, boss. But yeah, I know about Manson.”

  “Manson was an illiterate hippie,” Edwards said, looking at Jonas. “Imagine that with an Agency Director’s resources.”

  Frank sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Guess we’re gonna need a priest, too.”

  “If you can find one,” Edwards said. “But we move by Wednesday or we split town. A bullet will exorcise the demon as easily as a priest, maybe even easier.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?” Frank asked.

  “We’ll either be in a different zip code by then, or the last man standing collapses the building on top of us. Anything’s better than getting captured.”

  ♟

  That was very brave of you, Madoc said, as Jonas left the school. Billy was convinced you’d managed to get inside Edwards’ head. He was trying to convince Frank to shoot you, and you sat there with your back to the door.

  Jonas stopped in his tracks. “What?” he said, then scowled and sent, And you didn’t tell me this until now?

  I would have warned you in time. Didn’t want to… how is it they put it these days? ‘Throw you off your game?’

  Jonas stared at empty space in front of him. Great, I almost died again, he thought, but kept it from Madoc. It seemed to be happening with alarming regularity lately, and it wasn’t getting any easier. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his neck. I was a trigger squeeze away from being another jar of ashes in my mother’s arms. If Billy had just barged in and fired…

  Jonas, are you okay?

  I’m fine, Madoc. I’m glad you’re feeling better.

  Yes. Better. Because this is all part of the plan, right?

  Exactly, Jonas sent. I’m Alice Black’s son, remember? He didn’t add that he was sore, scared, and making it up as he went along. The rush of almost dying, gorging on blood, and kissing Eve had worn off halfway through his talk with the hunters.

  Madoc was quiet for a few minutes as Jonas walked west toward the subway station.

  I still think leaving town is the best option for you, Madoc said with a touch of concern.

  I know. I just… I can’t. Jonas felt a lump rising in his throat. He couldn’t leave. He had too much to lose – his mom and dad, Eve… they were his past and his future. If he could have gotten them away from the city, the rest of the cards could have fallen as they may. He felt a twinge of guilt that Amelia and the rest of New York didn’t matter as much to him. But that’s just the way it was.

  People have been successfully waiting out the Apocalypse for two millennia, you know, Madoc said. It can be done very comfortably… somewhere else.

  Jonas couldn’t help but laugh.

  What? Madoc said.

  You reminded me of a joke my father used to tell. A man jumps off a skyscraper. He falls past the 30th floor, the 20th… A man near an open window on the 10th floor overhears him. Do you know what he’s saying?

  Madoc sighed. No, what is he saying?

  So far, so good, Jonas said, a big smile on his face. He and his father had laughed every time one of them told it, which had been often – to each other, to friends, to str
angers in a restaurant. It used to make his mother laugh and drive her crazy at the same time… good memories.

  I’m not leaving, Madoc. But if I can’t get the wards down, you can hop a ride out with whoever’s left. I won’t think less of you.

  That’s not what I meant, Jonas. This could go badly, you don’t have to—

  I know, but I couldn’t live with myself.

  Jonas could see the subway entrance across the street. He fished around in his pocket for his MTA card.

  Where are you going? Madoc asked.

  Bookstore, Jonas said. He knew there were several specialty bookstores in the area, but what he needed was a mass media outlet. The light turned green.

  Don’t take the subway, they’ll corner you. M15 bus will be at the corner of 75th and 2nd Ave in two minutes, you can make it if you run.

  Jonas pushed his way through the crowded intersection and sprinted east.

  Take a right here, Madoc said.

  Jonas cut across the street. Before he could ask, Madoc showed him a white van at the next intersection with a very large man in the driver’s seat and another in the back, hand poised on the sliding door.

  That’s pretty aggressive, Jonas said.

  There are three more on the subway platform. Fangston told them to bring you in, I think. They’ll wait until nightfall to try again, though, now that they know you’re on to them.

  Jonas made it to the bus just as the last person was getting on. Should I be breathing hard? he wondered. Actually, he wasn’t breathing at all, but his stomach growled and he felt thirsty again. He knew how it worked for humans — they’d taught him the whole aerobic and anaerobic thing in PE — but he had no idea how that worked for vampires. Regardless, exertion obviously used or burned up his blood supply. He wondered if breathing made him use more or less blood? He’d have to ask Viviane when things were back to normal.

  Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m going to a bookstore? Jonas sent.

  You’re committed. You have some kind of plan. I accept that. I’ll find out when you get there.

  Jonas paused, mid-step, then made his way to an open seat. The specter was trusting him. Thank you, Madoc.

  He sat down and pulled his bulging backpack onto his lap. He tugged on the zipper and two silver blood packs popped out onto to the floor.

  “You must really like juice,” a guy in his mid-twenties said, looking over and grinning at Jonas.

  “You have no idea,” Jonas said, as he leaned down and picked up the packs. He put one back, pulled the tab on the other, and drank. He tried to sip, the way Eve did, but even with some of her memories, he still ended up with an empty packet and a few seconds of lost time.

  “You weren’t kidding,” the stranger said.

  Jonas smiled politely and stuffed the empty pouch into his bag before zipping it back up. He leaned his head back, pretending to doze during the fifteen minute trip. I really wish I had my MP3 player, he thought. Having earphones in was a great way to discourage awkward social situations.

  At least he’d made progress, and he was out of immediate danger. I think that’s enough excitement for now, he thought. As he walked out of the bookstore, three new books stuffed into his backpack, he suddenly felt exhausted. He took a cab home.

  ♟

  Jonas set the book aside and leaned his head back. He’d found his MP3 player. The screen was broken, but the play button still worked. He sat in the living room, ear buds in, listening to “Elegy” by Tycho. He’d gotten another blood pack in him since getting home, and he felt more relaxed than he had in… well, he couldn’t remember how long. Now I just have to pull off the impossible, he thought, but it didn’t seem as urgent at the moment.

  Outside, the sun was setting. Madoc hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but he was pretty sure the specter was keeping track of just about everyone and everything within several miles. That’s why Jonas jumped a little when someone suddenly knocked on the door, it surprised him. He exhaled. Madoc would have warned me if it was something to worry about.

  He opened the door and found himself face to face with the older cop he’d tricked into leaving the apartment that morning. “Officer! Is there something I can do for—?”

  The cop shouldered past him into the apartment, carrying two heavy duffel bags. “Save it, kid. Edwards sent me.” He took a look at the ruined apartment, without Jonas’ influence, and whistled. “Knew something was wrong with this place. Should have kicked my partner out and shot you. No offense.”

  “Umm… none taken?” Jonas said.

  “More of us on the way.” He dropped his bags next to the broken TV and took a seat in the far corner, on the couch, facing the door.

  Over the next hour, four more men showed up, including Billy. They all carried heavy bags, eyes darting to the corners of the room when they walked in, and none of them cared much for Jonas. They also seemed to share a lot of history. One of them swiped the broken mess off the kitchen countertop, found a pot that wasn’t ruined, and started heating the contents of a can on the stove.

  “Hey Steve, know what this place reminds me of?”

  “Kabul,” Steve answered.

  “Like Hell,” Billy chimed in. “Ain’t no place in all of Afghanistan as nice as this. He’s talkin’ Baghdad.”

  “Too cold. It’s Slovenia,” the cop said, peering over the top of a magazine. “After the blue-helmets showed up, but before the U.S. troops did.”

  “Eugene got it on the nose,” the cook said, pointing a wooden spoon at the cop.

  Billy nodded, and stared off into space. “Reckon you’re right.”

  Steve scowled. “I was still in high school, man. How about we stick to recent history?”

  “Cheer up, rookie. We’ll all be dead by Wednesday,” Eugene said.

  They all laughed at that.

  Frank showed up a little while later with two bags and a backpack.

  “Hey, look everybody! Frank’s here!” the cook said.

  Jonas had gathered from scraps of their conversation that the man in the kitchen’s name was Jim, which was funny to Jonas because he’d never met a Jim who wasn’t the life of the party — talking, joking, slapping shoulders, and offering people coffee.

  “Jim, Billy, Steve,” Frank said, “Where’s… oh, in the corner, should have known. Good to see you, Eugene.”

  The cop grunted and turned the page on the book he’d borrowed from Jonas. Eugene apparently read anything he could get his hands on, from gun magazines to Russian poetry. He said it expanded his horizons and kept his mind off the here and now, a kind of anti-Zen for people who couldn’t afford to let their guard down.

  “So Frank, what’s the job? Never seen more than three of us in a room before,” Steve said, wringing his hands.

  “And while you’re at it,” Eugene said, without looking up from his reading, “care to tell us why there’s a bloodsucker in the room?”

  “His apartment,” Frank said, shrugging. “Don’t mind them, kid,” he said to Jonas. “They just don’t like surprises.”

  “That’s not true, Frank. I love surprises,” Jim said. “I’m just more of a giver than a taker, know what I mean?” He gave Frank a broad, toothy smile. Several of the others chuckled. “You have our communication gear?”

  “Won’t need it. Kid got us a specter for this one,” Frank said, nodding toward Jonas.

  The room went silent, and everyone stared at Jonas.

  “That’s flipping awesome,” Steve said.

  Eugene grunted.

  “Yeah, nice one, kid,” Jim said, slapping Jonas on the shoulder.

  “Believe that when I see it,” Billy added.

  “I said it was so, Billy,” Frank said, staring at the other man. There was a moment of tension in the room — Eugene even put his book down, leaving his thumb in place to mark the page — then Billy raised his hands in mock surrender.

  “Just flappin’ my gums, Frank. Didn’t mean no disrespect.”

  For Jonas,
the whole thing was both fascinating and a little bit alien at the same time. These were all men in the old sense of the word, operating off some kind of informal pecking order that was constantly being hashed out through jokes, contact, and the occasional confrontation. It reminded him of Phillip and Bert, only the social order among the hunters was much more fluid.

  Jonas, Madoc said, we have a problem.