by Anthony Izzo
She had started off wanting to find Dad very badly. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to see his face at all. Or that she could look at him without wanting to slap his face. That was terrible, wasn’t it?
“You have to go there, Sara,” David said. “Find the stone. It will be glowing. Then track down Engel. Use it to kill him.”
A panicked look crossed Sara’s face. “I can’t do this. How do I find him? How do I use it? Those things will kill me.”
“They haven’t killed you yet. You’re our hope, Sara. If he succeeds, his army will move on. Killing until the only ones left are him and his demons. It will be the end of all things.”
“I’m not risking losing her again. We’re getting out of the city.”
“Go at dawn. They can’t come out in the light.”
David’s head lolled again and he went back into a Demerol-and pain-induced sleep.
The wall pressed hard against Sara’s back. The emergency room corridor had grown stuffy and hot. Her face felt flushed, her ears hot. She looked at Laura, who sat next to her. Her hair, drawn in a ponytail, had gone frizzy on the sides. Even so, she was still beautiful.
Right after David had nodded off, Sara had watched Laura check his wound. The look on her face said everything; David’s condition was dire.
A nurse’s aide wheeled an X-ray machine past, and a pair of black-clad paramedics came down the main corridor with an elderly man on their gurney. He was wearing an oxygen mask; his shirt was spotted with blood.
So much suffering, Sara thought. And I can end it. Maybe it wasn’t an accident she came to Buffalo when she did. Perhaps whatever force had created the Guardians had given her a little nudge in the right direction.
Laura started rubbing her temples.
“I think we should go find it,” Sara said.
“Find what?” she asked, still rubbing.
“The Everlight.”
“Are you crazy?”
“What other hope do we have?”
“Someone will come. The National Guard, the army.”
“You really think so? Most of them are cleaning up Bush’s folly in Iraq. Besides, what can they do? I doubt bullets are much good right now.”
“And if we do find it?”
“We’ll figure that out. Kill this Engel.”
“We need to find my father and go.”
Laura still wasn’t looking at her. Her head was down and she was still massaging her temples, as if she had the world’s worst headache. Maybe she did. But how would running help them? If this whole thing spread beyond Buffalo, as David had said it would, would they be safe? “And if they get out of Buffalo and continue across the country, then what?”
“We’d be going right into the lion’s den, so to speak.”
“They’ll take over the city.”
Now Laura stopped rubbing her temples and looked at Sara. Sara could see a storm brewing in her eyes, sensed she wouldn’t budge on the issue.
“We’re getting out,” she said. “That’s final.”
“I’ll go myself, then.”
“You can’t. You’ll be with me.”
“Don’t you want to stop this from getting worse?”
Laura drew herself up on her knees. “Getting killed won’t stop this.”
“You heard David,” Sara said. “I’m especially powerful.”
Laura laughed, a harsh snort. “Especially powerful, huh? You see all this?” she held her hand out, palm up, indicating the emergency room. “Those things did all this. To a whole city. You think you can stop them?”
Laura looked at David, whose skin had taken on a milky shade of white. He had lied to her, yes. But he was also a father to her. And now he was dying and she felt helpless and scared and, except for Laura, alone. The past sixteen years had been lies. She had only Robbie in Indiana, and what did that mean? If she returned home, they would wait, watching the Dark Ones spread like cancer, marching across the country and swallowing towns and villages whole. No, she didn’t want to go out like that.
“Well, do you?” Laura asked.
She stood up. “I’m going to wait here with him until dawn. Then I’m heading out to find the Everlight. If we wait, or we run, we’re doomed.”
“You don’t even know where the recycling yard is.”
“I’ll ask.”
Now Laura stood up. There was a gleam in her eyes that Sara saw in a person one other time. It had been ninth grade, and Candace Summers, all two hundred pounds of her in a pink jogging suit, had insisted Sara get out of her cafeteria chair. Sara had stood up, looked her in the eye, seen that same angry gleam. Right before Candace had coldcocked her and she flopped to the cafeteria floor, the world spinning and her head feeling all syrupy. She didn’t think Laura would deck her, but she was prepared for a fight.
“You won’t go anywhere. I’ll send the cops out after you.”
“I think they’ve got better things to do than hunt down runaways.”
“You’re impossible, you know that. Stubborn thing.”
“I’m going. Please come.”
“You’re just like me, you know that? Goddamn dig in and fortify your position, that’s what you’re doing.”
“Will you come?”
“We’re leaving. That’s it. No heroics.”
“How can we just stand by knowing we can change things?”
“It would kill me if it happened again,” Laura said.
“I won’t let it. I’ll be careful.”
Laura frowned. “It’s not in your control. You saw what they did.”
“I can drive them off, protect myself.”
“You’re staying put.”
Sara didn’t see any point in arguing any further. She got up and went over to the gurney. David had gotten worse. The blackness had crawled up his neck and overtaken his ear, which now appeared as a blackened lump. She watched it for a moment, careful not to touch, and swore it spread right before her eyes.
Just take him, Lord. Please. Stop his heart. Anything to make it stop.
But it wouldn’t, would it? And she doubted the Good Lord could do such a thing. Or would do such a thing. But why make someone suffer, especially someone who had done good? And where was He right now? Why were the abominations allowed to torture and kill and pillage? She supposed smarter people than her had tried to answer those questions for ages. And those who were on the Titanic’s decks and faced drowning in the icy Atlantic, or those who were led into gas chambers in Treblinka and Auschwitz no doubt asked the same questions. But what was the answer? Would there ever be one?
For now she could only watch. And hope that it didn’t hurt David too badly.
Laura said, “I know you want to do something, but I can’t lose you again. Do you understand that?”
“I understand.”
CHAPTER 23
When they’d been at the hotel for three hours, Mike had heard a boom that rattled the windows. It sounded like something big going up. Maybe a crashing airliner, or one of the refineries on River Road being blown to hell.
The number of wailing sirens had died down. Mike went to the front door, where they had piled up couches, tables, and chairs in a makeshift barrier. There was a small triangular opening where a sofa arm and an end table came together, and he peered outside. He saw only the fountain and Milo’s truck. But he smelled the acrid tang of wood burning and knew it wasn’t a campfire, but part of downtown Buffalo going up in flames.
He returned to find Debbie pulled up in a chair next to Agnes. She was holding Agnes’s hand. The old woman’s skin was as thin as tissue paper and her veins snaked across the tops of her hands.
“Hey,” he said. “Thanks.”
Debbie looked genuinely puzzled. “For?”
“Holding her hand like that. You didn’t have to, but you did. I appreciate it.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t. It isn’t anywhere fucking near all right. Won’t ever be again, either.”
; Milo, who sat in an overstuffed chair, said, “You don’t know that.”
“You hear the news? That TV’s loud enough to wake Rip Van Winkle, so I know you must’ve. They’re everywhere. Killing whatever gets in the way. That’s why I know.”
“Help will come,” Milo said.
“Yeah, John Wayne and his merry bunch of Indian slayers, right? Ride right through that fountain.”
“What’s with you and John Wayne? That’s the second time you referenced him.”
“The whole cavalry come to the rescue thing, you know.”
“They might come yet.”
Mike waved him off. He didn’t know if this was the apocalypse or if someone had forgotten to lock the gates to hell, but he’d wished he’d spent more time praying at St. Stephen’s instead of robbing corner stores. In all likelihood they were finished. He didn’t think they had much chance of reaching his house and getting Mom her medication. Hell, it might not even help her.
But he had to try. Had to. He’d screwed everything else up to this point. He was not one for irony, but he had to chuckle when he realized the condos they had been sent to burn were going to be destroyed anyway. So Schuler was dead and Mike had been tortured and here they sat waiting for the end of the world. If he didn’t feel like crying so much, he’d laugh. A real belly buster, too.
“They’ve stayed away from here,” Mike said. “What do you think that means?”
“Not enough victims in one place?”
“Long as they keep away,” Milo said.
“We’ll leave at dawn for my house. It can’t be as bad during the day, right?”
Milo didn’t answer him.
In Routersville, Frank removed the Light from his pocket. He held it up and the beams radiated out in points that seemed to go on for miles. Had he been as powerful as Sara, or perhaps the original Guardians, he could have turned it into a devastating weapon. As it was, the effectiveness would be measured in fear—on the faces of the demons.
The ones approaching from behind stopped. Some of them grunted and twisted in spasms. Others covered their eyes. Some dropped to their knees and crawled away. Another group fled, shrieking and howling in a language Frank couldn’t even begin to understand.
Holding the girl close against his hip, he advanced toward the armory. She let out a soft mewling noise and he comforted her, saying, “It’s okay.”
The Dark Ones, now crowded in front of the armory’s brick walls and trying to squeeze into the breached doors, began to take notice of the Light. Those at the rear turned and some went running off into the woods. More wailing rose from the horde. Frank continued, willing his legs to move against fear that wanted him rooted to the ground.
He advanced, and the throng before him parted, blotted out by the pure white beams from the Everlight. Ahead he could make out the gashed-open door and a pile of pale corpses. He made his way through, the girl at his side, and stepped over the bodies and into the armory’s main hall.
In the flood of Light, he saw the dark shapes coming toward him, not to attack, but to get away from the Light and hurry out the door. “To hell with you all,” he muttered.
Jenny was aware of a shift in the crowd below. A string of inhuman yells rose to the balcony. The winged beast, which a moment ago had been intent on running her through with its dagger, dropped her and turned its back toward the sounds of chaos.
She took the opportunity to aim between its wings and unleash a blast of Light. Its back arched and it fell to its knees, trying to reach around its back, as if to plug the hole the blast had caused. It fell aside, trickling yellowish fluid from the wound.
After she killed the demon, she saw the Light shining in the main hall. Spears of pure white, tinged with the slightest golden hues. It reminded her of the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows at Blessed Sacrament she had seen as a girl. She had never been so glad to see something in all her life.
The winged demons that were streaming onto the balcony saw the Light and retreated. Two of them hurdled over the balcony rail, flapped their wings, but not having enough space, fell to the floor. Jenny took the opportunity to fire at the ones retreating back to the turret and the safety of the roof. She caught one in the back, a glancing blow. It bellowed and kept going.
Now, she looked over the railing and saw Frank standing in a wash of Light. The demons that had breached the main hall were gone. Frank stood among hell’s dead and fallen Guardians. When the hall was clear, Jenny helped the wounded woman, who was slumped against the wall. They took the stairs to the main hall and joined Frank.
He had lowered the Everlight and now the hanging lights in the main hall provided the only illumination.
Jenny helped the wounded woman, removing the woman’s jacket, easing her to the floor, and placing the jacket under her head as a makeshift pillow. “We’ll get you some help.”
A crowd gathered around Frank. Jenny spotted Dottie Flores, who was a nurse at Dr. Masters’s office. She motioned for Dottie to come over and attend to the woman. Dottie knelt at the woman’s side and began tending to her wounds.
Jenny saw the girl at Frank’s side. She was thin and blond and had a faded summer tan. “Who’s your friend?”
Frank, his hair wild and sweaty, said, “I pulled her from a house on Main. She was the only one inside.”
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Anna.”
“Nice to meet you, Anna, I’m Jenny.”
The girl gave her a weak smile and crossed her arms.
“They’ll come back,” Frank said. “The Light will keep them away, but not for good.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I need to go to Buffalo, and I could use backup. What do you think?”
“Who will stay here and lead? What about Ruby?”
Frank opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it.
“What about Ruby?” she repeated.
“She’s gone. One of the Warlords killed her. Shot her point-blank.”
The Warlords had been allowed to ride and pillage unchecked. Aside from the occasional harassment from the local cops, they did as they pleased. Now they had killed a lovely person. Ruby had a smile for everyone who walked through the diner doors. Didn’t matter if you were a lifelong Routersvillian or just passing through. She would be missed. “I’ll find someone.”
“We need to round up a search party, go down into the town, and bring back any survivors.”
“And hole them up here.”
Frank shook his head. “We need to leave. The Light is coming with me. I need to find Sara.”
“Where did they go?”
Frank motioned for her to follow and she did. They looked out the main doors. The cloud that had brought them had retreated past the edge of town. The demons themselves had disappeared into the dark mist.
“They’re waiting.”
“Then let’s get moving.”
Frank and Jenny gathered the remaining people in the armory, Guardians and non-Guardians, and explained the need to rescue survivors and then leave town. Frank divided the town into four quadrants and assigned rescue parties to each. He gave them two hours to bring back as many as they could and advised them to let people know they had to get out of town. After what had just occurred, he didn’t think that would be a hard sell.
The search parties dispatched, he and Jenny sat at a long rectangular table in the mess hall. Dottie Flores had dressed his chest wound and checked him for a concussion. He still had a mild throb pulsing through his head, but thought he would live. He and Jenny had dined on cans of microwaveable stew, washing them down with warm 7-UP.
Anna had been reunited with her Aunt Marcie, who had been one of the lucky ones who took refuge in the armory. Something had gone right this evening, anyway.
“How long do you think before they come back?” Jenny asked.
“No way to tell.”
“Then the town will fall.”
“It will.”
“We worked so hard all these years to keep our secret. It was truly ours—I mean Routersville—right?”
“There was no standing up to that force without the Everlight.”
“I wish we could’ve killed more.”
“You did what you could.”
They finished eating, and for the next two hours Frank helped out in the main hall, moving bodies and tending to the wounded as best he could. A few ambulance crews from town had arrived, and he informed one of the medics about Ruby and where to find her body. She should be given a decent burial and her family notified, Frank thought.
The wounded were taken up to the County General, the dead covered and laid outside the armory. Upon returning, the rescue crews informed Frank that most of the surviving residents were fleeing town, a convoy of cars snaking up the main road, headed away from where the cloud had originated.
Frank asked one of the Guardians, a moose of a man named Henry, to notify the state police as soon as Frank was gone. They could come down and figure out what to do with the bodies. Someone had to do it.
He and Jenny left the armory at five thirty in the morning in a borrowed GMC Yukon. They headed to her house in the pink glow of the early morning sunrise, where she packed a bag. He wolfed down some instant oatmeal and orange juice, showered and changed his clothes, and the two of them left, driving back through Routersville and heading for the thruway entrance.
On his way, Frank surveyed the destruction. Windows had been broken out of the restaurants and bars, most likely so the people inside could be dragged out. A crew of firefighters sprayed water on the burning East Towne Grill. There were about a dozen wrecked cars, either overturned or smashed into light poles. Frank felt an overwhelming sense of despair. If all this destruction came from an attack that had lasted hours, what would happen if They began to move across the country?
He thought of Sandra and hoped she had heeded his warning to leave for the mountains. The thought of her holed up, perhaps with the furniture stacked against the door as the murderous demons attempted to get in, broke his heart. She would die as so many others had, her last moments panicked and frenzied, perhaps wondering how this could all be happening.
