Dark Revelations (44 page)

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Authors: Duane Swierczynski,Anthony E. Zuiker

BOOK: Dark Revelations
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Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ve been trying to work up the courage.
Nineteen seconds remaining.
Dark squeezed Riggins’s shoulder. Riggins lifted his gun from his lap. In Dark’s mind, he saw the gun continuing on a path straight to Riggins’s temple. Oh God no. Don’t do this. Not now, not like this—what the hell was the point?
Thirteen seconds remaining.
But instead, Riggins pointed the gun at the digital timer and squeezed the trigger.
chapter 90
 
DARK
 
O
n his way home from the airport, Dark stopped off at the
Grove to buy a dress for Christmas.
The actual holiday was seven days in the past, but Dark knew he couldn’t show up empty-handed.
The doll store at the Grove was three stories of pure unadulterated innocence—tiny cribs, bibs, accessories, and of course, outfits. The previous Christmas Dark had bought his daughter a doll on a whim. Little Sibby had loved it. Hugged it, refused to part with it the entire Christmas break. Since bringing Sibby back home to live with him, Dark had come back to the same store to buy more dolls, more accessories. He told himself that this was a way of telling Sibby that they’d have some kind of normal life. Buying things. Building a home for lost children. Only a madman would purchase so many things if he didn’t intend on keeping them around . . . right?
Even though Dark had come here often, he felt strange every time he stepped through the front door. Especially now with a loaded Glock weighing down his jacket pocket. The store was meant to be a throwback to a more innocent time—a safe haven for little girls to be little girls. There were even tea parties and fashion shows held here.
Dark, though, was glad that innocent times could still exist.
Thankfully, Riggins’s somewhat ill-conceived idea of taking his .45 to the timer and ignition system on the nuke worked. He shuddered at how close they had come. How close Labyrinth had been to destroying part of this world, to leaving Sibby without a father.
Though Labyrinth was no longer a threat, rioting and violence continued around the world. New Labyrinth copycat crimes sprung up on an almost daily basis in America, Europe, Asia, and Africa, targeting the same “pillars” he was so intent on taking down: medicine, law, education, politics, art, and so on. Even more disturbing, ordinary citizens were increasingly vocal about blaming their governments for failing to stop the outbreaks. Which in turn emboldened Labyrinth acolytes to commit more acts of protest and violence.
Labyrinth had started a fire, and left the rest of the world to sift through the ashes. Even the United States wasn’t immune. Congressional hearings were kicking up, a lot of stones being unturned, and it sounded like nobody would be handing out slaps on the wrist anymore. Too many were watching, too many people were paying attention. And it was no longer just the threat of losing reelection. People were dying.
But the most vocal, of course, was Labyrinth’s “Other.”
Alain Pantin—the man who had been secretly mentored by Labyrinth himself under his guise of “Trey Halbthin.” There was some shock in European political circles after the link made headlines. But Pantin came forward and explained that while he regretted the link to such a vile killer, his views and message were the same. Governments and corporate leaders needed to be held accountable for their actions. The revolution may have been inflamed by a diseased mind, but that did not negate the need for a revolution.
Pantin was ultimately untouchable, because he’d done nothing wrong. Dark and Natasha had dug deep but could find no evidence that linked Pantin to any of the attacks. Some commentators even argued that Pantin was just another of Labyrinth’s victims—but continued to speak the truth even at great personal cost.
There was no personal cost, Dark realized. Pantin’s approval ratings were climbing daily, and his voice heard in more and more corners of the globe.
That’s what scared Dark the most. Labyrinth’s message, his cause, was still alive, still spreading.
How can you fight that?
Dark wondered.
 
As he strolled out of the store, Dark’s mind turned to Natasha. She couldn’t make it for the holidays, but she’d be here in L.A. in just a few days’ time. She wanted to talk about the future of Global Alliance. Even with two members missing, it was still a force of good in the world.
Dark told her he’d have to think about that, then asked her if that was the only item on the agenda.
She told him,
“Well, let’s just say you and I have a
lot
of catching up to do.”
 
Later that night, New Year’s Eve, Sibby threw an impromptu tea party. She poured a pretend cup for Riggins, who was on their living room couch, his arm in a sling.
“Cream or sugar, Mr. Riggins?” she asked.
“You think you could toss a little bourbon in there?”
Sibby’s face knotted with confusion. “Bur-what?”
“Daddy will handle that part,” Dark said, pulling himself out of his chair. His hearing had returned slowly, though it wasn’t a hundred percent. Never would be, most likely. Dark took the bottle of Knob Creek from the counter, paused, then grabbed another tumbler. Might as well join him.
Riggins had come here straight from the hospital, no warning, no call. He simply knocked and planted himself on the couch. Dark didn’t question it. He knew they had unfinished business.
But he didn’t get to it—at least not right away. Not until Sibby had finished serving her tea, then kissing Dark and Riggins good night. Dark refilled their glasses. They drank bourbon until it was only a few minutes before midnight.
 
“I’m retiring,” Riggins said finally.
Dark knew better than to feign surprise or confusion. Very few people lasted very long at Special Circs; Riggins’s quarter-century tenure qualified as an outright miracle. He suspected that Riggins would have retired at least ten years ago if it hadn’t been for the Sqweegel case—and the nightmarish effect it’d had on Dark.
Dark nodded.
“They’re in serious need of fresh blood,” Riggins said. “If you haven’t noticed, the world’s kind of going to hell. I have a feeling Special Circs is going to be busier than ever, and they’re going to need someone good in that top spot.”
“They’ll find someone, I’m sure.”
“I told them they should consider you.”
“Me? You’re kidding, right? I’m the furthest thing from fresh blood.”
“Look,” Riggins said, “I’m not going to sit here and blow you. Even though you have poured an obscene amount of fine bourbon down my throat. You and I both know you’re the best manhunter going. You should be training agents, passing on the wisdom. And if anyone could get Constance to return to the fold, it’s you.”
“Could you honestly see me sitting behind your desk?”
“Hell yeah I could.”
“Really? The brother of a Level 26 killer, running the very department trained to catch them?”
“Fuck you,” Riggins said. “That doesn’t matter, and you know it. You were meant to do this.”
“I know. The question is whether Special Circs can really get the job done. Or is it too bound by bureaucracy and red tape?”
“We all need boundaries, Dark,” Riggins said. “Speaking of which—Labyrinth. Think he’ll ever come out of that coma?”
Dark turned to his mentor, to the man who made him what he was. Dark knew he would never go back to Special Circs. Global Alliance provided everything he needed to catch killers. He had already spoken with some of Damien Blair’s benefactors and they seemed interested in continuing the fight. Dark could do what he needed to do, not what he was
allowed
to. And that made all the difference. If Dark was at Special Circs, Labyrinth would be in a cell somewhere, waiting to get off on a technicality. Dark was going to make sure that Labyrinth would no longer be a threat to anyone.
And so Dark looked at the closest thing to a father he had and—as sons are sometimes forced to do—he lied.
“I don’t know.”
 
Much later that night, after Riggins had taken a cab back to his hotel, and all was calm and still in the house, Dark received the call. He listened, then grunted a brief thanks.
He stood up.
Finally—it was time to
end it
.
 
[To enter the Labyrinth, please go to
Level26.com
and enter the code: revolution]
 
acknowledgments
 
Anthony E. Zuiker would like to thank: First and foremost my kids: Dawson, Evan, and Noah. You mean more to me than you could ever know. To the cast and crew of
Dark Revelations
, thanks for sending us out with a bang and helping us finish this series strong. To Matthew Weinberg, Orlin Dobreff, Jennifer Cooper, and David Boorstein, thanks for helping me see this trilogy through from start to finish. Once again, major thanks to Duane Swierczynski, bringing it home with our third book. Thanks for the continued support of Team Zuiker: Margaret Riley, Kevin Yorn, Dan Strone, Alex Kohner, Nick Gladden, Shari Smiley, and Jonalyn Morris.
Thanks to Brian Tart for taking a chance on a series like this; our fearless editor, Ben Sevier, for his continuing support; and everyone else at Dutton who helped make the digi-novel possible, including: Jessica Horvath, Melissa Miller, Stephanie Kelly, Erika Imranyi, Christine Ball, Lisa Johnson, Rachel Ekstrom, Carrie Swetonic, Kirby Rogerson, Susan Schwartz, Leigh Butler, Aline Akelis, Sabila Khan, Hal Fessenden, and Adina Weintraub.
And last, but not least, a very special thanks to Joshua Caldwell. We’re proud to hand the directing torch over to him. I know he’ll make us shine.

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