The Dark at the End

by F. Paul Wilson

  "That is why you cannot call for medical help. They believe I am dead and must go on believing that. I'll reward you well - "

  "I don't need money. Got plenty of that. But it sounds like I should be calling the police instead of emergency services. "

  "No, I don't want to endanger you. If they learn I'm alive they might try to finish what they began. They will kill you too. They are merciless. You must keep my presence secret until I'm well enough to go to the police and ask for protective custody. Do you understand?"

  She was nodding vigorously. "Yes. Yes, of course. When you're well enough, we'll put you aboard the boat and - "

  "Boat?"

  "The weekly boat out of Sag Harbor. How do you suppose I get mail and food and such? The boat stops every Tuesday. I'll just tell them you're a relative who's been staying here, recovering from some terrible accident. You can ride back to Sag Harbor and get in touch with the police there. "

  "Thank you. You are very kind. "

  "It's the least I can do after the terrible ordeal you've been through. I'll help you any way I can to get through this. "

  How easily gulled were these cattle. Especially the cows. Ruled by their emotions. Tell them a sad story and they were at your service.

  "Now eat up. " She took the sandwich plate and placed it in his lap. "Whether you're hungry or not, you need your strength. "

  Yes, that was true. But he was in no hurry to leave. Glaeken might or might not be aware of his survival. Even if so, he would not be able to pinpoint his location. Better to stay here until he was stronger - strong enough to transport himself from this lump of rock.

  That would certainly not be by Tuesday.

  MONDAY Chapter 1

  ". . . more mysteries surrounding the deadly events in Nuckateague Saturday night. Police seem to be having as much trouble locating the owners of the house as they are tracking down the killers who demolished it with fire and explosives. The house appears to be owned by a corporation, which is in turn owned by an offshore holding company. The holding company is owned by yet another foreign corporation. Very confusing, very mysterious. As for the perpetrators, at this point in time the police still have no leads. A large black sedan was seen driving away from the scene, but whether or not it was connected to the devastation is anyone's guess. "

  Rasalom suppressed a growl of annoyance. Those incompetents would never find the "perpetrators. " He'd been watching this banal Long Island TV station all morning, hoping for word that progress had been made on tracking them down. A waste of time.

  But then again, he had nothing but time while he healed.

  He reached for the remote. He would have liked to turn off the TV while the cow was in the kitchen and be alone with his thoughts, but she'd only turn it on again when she returned. At least he could turn down the sound - especially when the talk was of Nuckateague. He reduced it to a barely audible level, and was glad he had when he heard the announcer go on with the story.

  "Progress has been made, however, in other aspects of the case, and a surprise was unearthed in identifying the three bodies found in a garage across the street from the fire. The owners of that garage are not involved, as they were out of state at the time of the incident. The youngest of the three victims turns out to be Dawn Pickering, whose name might sound familiar. She was in the news last year when she and her boyfriend disappeared after the death of her mother in Rego Park. Foul play was suspected. Still no sign of her boyfriend, but her connection to the house in Nuckateague is yet another mystery in the evolving story of this grisly, violent tragedy.

  "In other news. . . "

  Rasalom quickly changed the channel and leaned back, thinking.

  Dawn . . . what was she doing there? How had she known about the house? She must have tracked the baby there. He doubted she could have done that on her own. She must have had help.

  He was beginning to piece together a chain of events that could have led to the ambush when the announcer's words came back to him with a shock.

  The youngest of the three victims turns out to be Dawn Pickering . . .

  Youngest? What of the child? No mention of a dead infant, who certainly would have been the youngest of the three victims.

  That meant the baby was alive. And that meant his plan was still viable.

  But for how long?

  A sudden urgency possessed him. This changed everything. He was certain his window of opportunity had not closed, but it could be shrinking by the moment. What had the cow said about a boat? Tomorrow? He could not wait until tomorrow. He needed to be back today.

  He tried to rise from the couch.

  "Here now!" she said, bustling into the room with a plate in her hand. "You need to visit the john again?"

  The john . . . was there a more inane name for a bathroom facility?

  He had suffered the indignities of having to allow the cow to assist him to the bathroom, his knees collapsing beneath him while she chattered to him in the tone she used to speak to her dog.

  "Need . . . to leave. "

  He flopped back onto the couch, gasping from the effort.

  "Leave? You're weak as a kitten. And even if you were strong enough to dance a jig, you still wouldn't be going anywhere today. The boat doesn't come till tomorrow, remember?"

  "Can't wait. "

  "I know you want to get to the police as soon as you can and help them find those killers. If you can walk a few steps tomorrow, maybe we can help you out to the dock. " As she looked over at her dog her voice took on that noxious tone. "Me and Wocky-wocks will come along and see you safely into town, won't we, doggy?"

  The dog panted in the corner, beating its tail against the wall.

  "Do you take him everywhere?"

  "Of course I do. " She continued the tone as she grinned idiotically at her pet. "Don't I, Wocky? Don't I? Cause you're a good dog, aren't you. You're Mommy's best boy, aren't you. "

  Rasalom rescinded his rash decision during the storm to reward her for saving him.

  "So now," she said, resuming a normal tone, "you just sit back and eat this nice turkey sandwich I made you. That's the sort of thing that'll build you up and get your strength back. "

  She set the plate on his lap and looked around.

  "Where's that remote?"

  He pointed to it with his wrist stump. "There. "

  "Where?"

  He remembered she could barely see. "Right next to me. "

  "Well, use it to turn up the sound, will you. I like to listen. Now go on and eat up. If you're getting on that boat tomorrow you're going to need all your strength. "

  She bustled back to the kitchen.

  Yes, strength. He needed strength - but now, not later. He couldn't afford the time it would take for turkey sandwiches to do the job. He needed another form of nourishment, and here on this tiny island he was cut off from the emotions that could speed the process. The world out there writhed with a farrago of pain and fear and anger and grief, but he could access none of it from here. The population at this end of Long Island was thin this time of year, and the meager sustenance available was dampened by distance. Water further muted the effect.

  He had only the cow close at hand, and he needed her.

  He looked across the room at the dog, who stared back. But he didn't need her pet . . . her beloved pet.

  Before he could do anything, he needed it closer. But the dog feared him. How to bring him within reach? And then he remembered the sandwich in his lap. Would the dumb animal's stomach overcome its distrust of the stranger in its home?

  Let's see, shall we?

  He pulled a piece of turkey from the sandwich and held it out, dangling it from his hand.

  The dog's head shot up and rocked as it sniffed. But its body remained prone.

  He waved the meat back and forth. Should he whisper its name? He didn't want the cow to hear, but decided to risk it. He was quite sure, however,
that he could not bring himself to utter, "Wocky-wocks. "

  "Here, Rocky. "

  That was enough. The old dog pushed itself to its feet and ambled over, head down, tail giving a few tentative wags.

  Rasalom slowly drew the meat back, enticing the animal closer and closer until he could lay his wrist stump on its back. Deep within the furry chest, he felt the heart beating.

  He focused in on the beat.

  And stopped it.

  The animal stiffened, coughed once, and then its legs collapsed. It landed on the floor with a thump, shuddered, and did not move again.

  Rasalom popped the piece of turkey into his mouth - after all, he needed it more than the dog.

  Now . . . what was the cow's name?

  "Sadie! I think something is wrong with your dog. "

  The cow rushed in. Her eyes darted to the corner where she'd left the dog, then to the still brown lump on the carpet before the couch.

  "Rocky?" she said, her voice rich with anxiety.

  When the lump did not respond, she bent and touched its flank.

  "Rocky?" A delicious burst of fear accompanied the word.

  When her fingers sent the message that no life lingered in the inert flesh beneath them, she dropped to her knees beside her companion and screamed.

  "Rockyyyyyyyyyyy!"

  Rasalom leaned back, closed his eyes, and bathed in the cataract of grief and loss, absorbing it like a dry sponge, feeding his needy cells, abating a hunger that could never be fully assuaged.

  Yessssss.

  MONDAY Chapter 2

  "I should move in here," Weezy said as she and Eddie entered the Lady's apartment.

  She placed the backpack with the Compendium on the table.

  The Lady smiled from her usual seat. "If you have no place to stay, you are always welcome here. You know that. I will not forget how you sat at my side that night. "

  Neither would Weezy. She'd been sure then that she was seeing the last of the Lady.

  She glanced over at Dawn's baby in his playpen. He was chewing on a bone, just like yesterday.

  "Where do you get the soup bones?"

  "A local butcher delivers them. "

  "It looks raw," Eddie said, making a face.

  "He prefers them that way. He wears them down to the marrow. He likes the blood there. "

  Weezy remembered the blood she'd washed off his face that first day. She'd assumed it was from his teeth. Now she wondered . . .

  She shook it off. It didn't bear thinking about.

  "Do you know why Jack asked us here?"

  The Lady shook her head. "He did not tell me. "

  "Nor me," Glaeken said as he entered and eased into his seat at the head of the table. "But he seemed . . . enthused. "

  Weezy could think of only one thing Jack had been enthused about lately.

  "Then it must have something to do with killing Rasalom. "

  As if on cue, Jack entered.

  "It does. " He dropped his bomber jacket onto the remaining seat opposite Weezy but remained standing. "I think I've found a solution to the Other Naming Ceremony problem. "

  He seemed a different person from the surly grouch of yesterday's gathering. He appeared unable to sit still. He was psyched about something.

  "Which problem?" Weezy said. "Not knowing the name, or no one to perform the ceremony?"

  "The latter. "

  Weezy glanced at the Lady, then back to Jack. "You've found someone else who can read the small folks' writing?"

  "No. But I think I can convince the Lady to perform it on me. "

  "I will not," she said with rock-solid finality.

  "Give me a chance here. I've been up half the night thinking about this. "

  That would be Jack. Give him a problem to solve and he was like Dawn's baby with a bone: He'd gnaw it down to the marrow.

  He turned to Weezy. "Could you read us that paragraph about the ceremony?"

  "I don't need to read it. "

  "Okay. Would you recite it, please?"

  Weezy pictured the page and began to read from it.

  "'No two humans may have the same Other Name. The First-named shall be powerless as long as the Second-named lives. The First-named shall hear the Name within the Second and thus be able to resolve the duplication. '"

  "Thanks," Jack said. "Now, the second half is the part that's causing the problem. The Lady here thinks it's a death sentence. I disagree. "

  The Lady said, "The One 'shall hear the Name' within you. That means, even if you never speak the Other Name you have been given, you will know it . . . it will be in your mind. He will hear it just as he hears 'Rasalom' whenever it is spoken. He will follow that name to you, wait until you are vulnerable, and slay you. "

  Jack held up a finger. "Ah, but what if I don't know the Other Name I'm given?"

  "How can you not?" Weezy said. "You'll have to go through the ceremony. "

  He looked at the Lady. "Does the ceremony require me to say the name?"

  She shook her head. "It does not. "

  "Well, then," he said, "what if I'm unconscious during the ceremony? Then I won't be aware of a word being said. "

  Weezy stared at him. She noticed Glaeken, the Lady, and Eddie doing the same. She voiced what she knew they were all thinking.

  "Are you out of your mind?"

  "Not at all. " He began wandering around the table. "We can hire an anesthetist to put me under during the ceremony. I called Doc Hargus this morning and he said he could fix me up with one. "

  Weezy couldn't help it. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. "

  Jack glared at her. "Can I speak to you a minute? Alone? Outside?"

  She hesitated, taken aback by his expression and the strange request. What couldn't they say in front of Eddie, Glaeken, and the Lady? But how could she refuse?

  "Sure. "

  She followed him into the hall where he shut the door behind them and lowered his voice.

  "Why are you so negative about this?"

  "Because it's crazy, Jack. "

  "What's crazy about it? Look at the situation: Rasalom is down but not out. In fact, he's coming back and we don't know how to find him to finish the job. As soon as he's well enough, he's going to want payback. How long do you think it's going to take him to figure out I was behind the Nuckateague attack, if he hasn't already? That means he'll be coming after me anyway. So why not render him 'powerless' before he does? That will at least level the playing field. "

  "But we don't know what 'powerless' means. It could simply mean unable to bring about the Change. All his other advantages could very well remain intact. "

  "But at least he'll no longer be the One. There'll be two with his Other Name, and that's got to hamper him. "

  "I don't think that's going to change the Lady's mind. "

  "It might. But I'll never convince her with you constantly sniping at me. "

  "I'm sorry, Jack, but I've got to say what I feel, and I think it's a bad idea. What if you're wrong?"

  "Even if I'm wrong, can we afford not to take the chance? If Rasalom finds a way to extinguish the Lady, this whole opportunity goes with her. The option of the Other Name is entirely off the table because there'll be no one to perform the ceremony. "

  Was this why he'd wanted to talk in private - didn't want to discuss the Lady's demise in front of her?

  "But he's got nothing left to throw at her. If he did, he would have used it instead of trying that ambush. "

  Jack's mouth twisted. "That was just to test if she was still immune to Earthly harm. "

  "Which means if he had another option, he would have used it. "

  "I think Dawn's child might have been part of his plan. "

  Weezy's heart clenched. She'd had the same feeling but hadn't wanted to voice it.

  "How could that baby be used against the Lady?"

  He shook his
head. "Wish I knew. "

  "Let's go back inside and ask the Lady herself. "

  As Weezy started toward the door, Jack gripped her arm. "You'll back me on the anesthesia?"

  She didn't want any walls between Jack and her, but she couldn't get behind his plan.

  "I think it's a terrible risk but I'm willing to compromise: I'll shut up and let you see if you can change her mind. "

  He gave a curt nod. "Fair enough. "

  Eddie gave her a what's-going-on? look when they returned.

  Glaeken said, "Have you settled your disagreements?"

  "We ironed out a few things," Weezy said, "but came up with an interesting question. " She turned to the Lady and pointed to the baby. "Can you think of any way that child can be used against you?"

  The Lady sat still a moment, then shook her head. "Not a one. Why do you ask?"

  Jack stepped forward. "We're not sure. But consider what we know: We know the baby is brimming with the Otherness. And we know that Rasalom protected Dawn throughout her pregnancy, then took the baby into hiding right after he was born. He's not the paternal sort and he's got a one-track mind that's fixed on the Change. He can't effect the Change with you around, so that means. . . ?"

  Jack gave Weezy an expectant look, so she turned to the Lady and answered the implied question.

  "He must think he can use the baby against you. "

  Glaeken said, "Your conclusion has a certain circumstantial logic to it, but in reality. . . " He shrugged. "The baby has a deep, strong Taint, but is not as full of the Otherness as a full-blown q'qr. The Lady was around when the world was full of q'qrs and they never posed a threat to her. Their blood may be from the Otherness, but they are creatures of the Earth and powerless against her. Maybe Rasalom thought he might eventually find a use for the baby against the Lady, but that is moot now. "

  The Lady nodded. "For now I have him. "

  Jack and Weezy stared at each other. She was sure Jack's suddenly troubled expression matched hers. She echoed Gia's question from the other night:

  "Do you think this could have been his plan all along?"

  After a long pause, Jack shook his head. "I can't see how getting caught in an exploding house and being set on fire and almost drowning and having a boat blown out from under you by a Stinger were part of his plan. "

  Eddie cleared his throat. "Speaking from an actuarial perspective, none of that eliminates the possibility that his original plan was to return the baby to Dawn. "