Nightworld (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack) (23 page)

Carol was not about to let someone pay for her.

“No. It’s all right. I have cash—”

“Sure you do, granny, but the light’s fading and we’re on a tight schedule. You’re holding us up.”

“I can’t allow—”

“You’ll be doing us a big favor by getting the hell out of the way.”

He gathered her blueberries and yogurt and thrust them into the shopping bag dangling from her arm. Then he was pushing her out of the aisle and moving into her place.

“But—”

He waved her off. “Go-go-go. You’re starting to piss me off.”

Carol hesitated, then moved off. The cashier had already turned his attention to the case of tomato sauce being lifted onto his conveyor belt.

As she exited the store, her thoughts turned to the debit card.
Insufficient funds?
Impossible. Nelson always kept at least a thousand in that particular account—never much more in case someone got hold of the card and PIN and emptied it—but never much less. He’d never let it go empty. Nelson’s numbers always added up. There had to be a mistake. Unless …

She hurried home through the dying light and went directly to her computer, where she logged onto their CitiBank account. When she checked the balance in the debit account it registered $2.27.

She gasped. Someone must have gained access and raided it. And if they breached one account …

A growing sense of dread bloomed to horror as she accessed their other accounts. One after another they showed negligible balances—even Nelson’s IRA. Every one of them cleaned out.

She grabbed the phone and speed-dialed Nelson’s number. He was stuck in Denver. He didn’t answer—probably in a meeting or something—so she left him a frantic message, then searched for the CitiBank customer service number. She’d start there. How could this have happened?

Monroe, Long Island

Sylvia stood in the driveway and watched the workmen swarming along the scaffolding they’d set up against Toad Hall’s west wall.

“I think we’re gonna make it,” said Rudy Snyder as he stood by her side.

Sylvia looked at the sinking sun, the long shadows. The day was ending too quickly, as if winter were approaching instead of summer.

“You promised me, Rudy.” She and Alan had called all along the North Shore this morning and finally had coaxed Rudy out of Glen Cove. “You guaranteed me you’d have every window shuttered before sunset. I hope I’m not hearing the sound of someone beginning to hedge.”

She tightened her fists to hide her anxiety. She didn’t think she could stand another ordeal like last night.

“No way, Mrs. Nash.” Rudy wore a peaked cap with
Giants
across the front; he was tall and fat, with red hair and a veiny, bulbous nose. When he aided the work crew, he did so at ground level only. “We’ll have them all in, just like I said. But they won’t all be wired.”

“I don’t care about the wiring. You can do that tomorrow. Just get those shutters in good and tight, then pull them down and leave them down.”

“You really think all this is necessary?”

She glanced at him, then away. He thought she was a nut, overreacting to some wild stories out of the city.

“You’ve seen all those little teeth in the siding?”

“Hey, I’m not saying you didn’t have a problem last night, but do you really think they’ll come back again?”

“I
know
they will. Especially since they don’t have to come all the way from Central Park this time.”

“You mean because of that hole that opened up in Oyster Bay this morning? Whatta y’think’s goin’ on?”

“Don’t you know? It’s the end of the world.” My world, at least.

Rudy’s smile was wary. “No … really.”

“Please finish the job.” She didn’t feel like talking about it. “Seal the house up tight. That will earn you the bonus I promised.”

“You got it.”

He bustled off and began shouting at his workers to get their asses moving.

Sylvia sighed as she stared at Toad Hall. The old place’s carefully maintained look of faded elegance was gone, destroyed by the rolling storm shutters. But they were good, tight, with heavy-duty slats of solid steel. The best. During the day they could be rolled up into the cylinders bolted above the windows; at sunset they’d slide down along tracks fastened to the window frames. They’d be cranked down by hand tonight, but after they were fully wired up tomorrow, Sylvia would be able to roll them all up and down with the flick of a single switch. This particular model was designed to withstand storms of hurricane force. Tonight they were going to have to withstand a storm of a different sort. She prayed they’d be enough.

“The back’s done,” Alan said, rolling toward her. “They’re moving around here to help finish up this side.” His gaze followed Sylvia’s to the anachronisms being attached to Toad Hall. “A shame, isn’t it?”

Sylvia smiled, glad to know their thoughts were still in synch, even after the uncomfortable silence of the ride back from the city. Especially when Alan had told her what that nut had said as they were leaving.

Only three will live to return.

What an awful thing to say.

“I feel like I’m witnessing the end of an era.”

“It might be the end of a lot more than that,” Alan said.

Sylvia felt all her muscles tighten. She said nothing. She knew where Alan was leading and didn’t want to go there. She’d been dreading this conversation since they left Glaeken’s apartment.

“Talk to me, Sylvia. Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

“You’re coiled like a steel spring.”

Again she said nothing. I’m coiled, all right, she thought, but it’s not anger. I wish it were. I can deal with anger.

“What do you think, Syl?” Alan said finally.

Why couldn’t he let it drop?

“About what?”

“About Glaeken. About what he said this morning.”

“I haven’t had time to think much about anything, least of all that old crank’s ravings.”

“I believe him,” Alan said. “And so do you. I saw it in your eyes when you were listening. I know your expression when you think you’re being bullshitted. You weren’t wearing it back in Glaeken’s apartment. So why don’t you admit it?”

“All right,” she said through tight lips. “I believe him too. Does that make you happy?”

She regretted that last sentence as soon as she said it, but it seemed to roll right off Alan.

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. So I’ve got to ask you: If you believe him, why did you walk out?”

“Because I don’t trust him. Don’t misunderstand me on that,” she added quickly. “I don’t think he’s lying to us. I think he’s sincere, I … just … don’t think he’s as much in control of his end of things as he thinks he is … or wants us to believe he is.”

“Maybe not. He was trying to sell us—you, especially—on something none of us is prepared to accept. The only reason we
can
accept it is that we’ve already had our lives turned upside down by something that ninety-nine percent of rational humanity would swear is impossible.”

Sylvia sighed. “The
Dat-tay-vao.
”

“Yeah. And if he says he needs the
Dat-tay-vao
to try to close up those holes and keep the days from shrinking to nothing and the world being overrun by those monstrosities from last night, why would you hold Jeffy away from him? Jeffy doesn’t need the
Dat-tay-vao.
”

“How do you know that?”

“Has it ever treated its carrier well? Look at Walter Erskine. Look at me. Remember the lines from the old song about the one who carries the Touch? ‘… He bears the weight of the balance that must be struck.’”

“But the
Dat-tay-vao
hasn’t harmed Jeffy.”

“Only because he hasn’t used it—yet. He hasn’t had an opportunity—yet. But what if he does find out, and does begin using it?”

Here it comes. She felt the pressure building up in her, edging past the point of control until she had to say it.

“And what if the
Dat-tay-vao
’s relationship with Jeffy is different? Special?”

Alan’s puzzled gaze searched her face.

“I don’t—”

“What if the
Dat-tay-vao
’s presence is keeping Jeffy like he is?” She tried to hold the tremor out of her voice but it grew, lending the words a jittery vibrato. “What if it’s the reason he’s been alert, responsive, laughing, singing, reading, playing with other kids—a normal boy—for the past year? Alan, what if that old man takes the
Dat-tay-vao
away for his focus or whatever he was talking about and Jeffy goes back to the way he was when I adopted him?” The tremor spread from her voice to her body now. She couldn’t control the shaking in her hands and knees. “What if he becomes autistic again, Alan?”

Sylvia pressed her hands against her face, as much to hide as to catch the tears springing into her eyes.

“God, Alan, I’m so ashamed!”

Suddenly someone was standing beside her. She felt a pair of arms slip around her and hold her close.

“Alan! You’re standing!”

“Not very well, I’m afraid. But that’s not the point. Watching you all morning, trying to figure out what’s going on inside you, and never seeing how frightened you are. Christ, what a jerk.”

“But you’re standing!”

“You’ve seen me do it before.”

“But not without the parallel bars.”

“You’re my parallel bars at the moment. I couldn’t just sit there and watch you go to pieces and spout that nonsense about being ashamed.”

“But I
am
ashamed.” She twisted in his arms and clung to him. “If Glaeken’s right, the whole world is threatened, billions of people in danger, and here I’m only worried about one little boy. I’m ready to let the whole world take a flying leap rather than jeopardize him.”

“But that’s not just any little boy. That’s Jeffy—
your
little boy, the most important little boy in your world. Don’t be ashamed of putting him first. That’s where he should be. That’s where he belongs.”

“But the whole
world,
Alan! How can I say no?” The panic welled up again. “How can I say
yes
?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Syl. I wish I could. You’ve got to weigh everything. Got to figure that if Glaeken’s right, and he can’t get the
Dat-tay-vao
for the focus he was talking about, then Jeffy’s a goner along with everybody else. There’s nothing to say that he can’t lure the
Dat-tay-vao
from Jeffy without harming him. If Glaeken can then turn all these horrors around, Jeffy will have a safer world to live in.”

“But if Jeffy is left in autistic limbo again…”

“That branches into two possibilities. Glaeken succeeds and Jeffy’s back to where he was a year ago and we deal with it and hope for a medical breakthrough in autism. Or Glaeken fails despite Jeffy’s sacrifice.”

“Then it’s all been for nothing.”

“Not necessarily. If nothing else, Jeffy’s relapse into autism will shield him from the living hell Glaeken’s predicting. That might be a blessing.”

She clung more tightly to Alan. “I wish this weren’t up to me.”

“I know. Too bad he’s not old enough to be brought in on the decision.”

Sylvia felt a vibration begin to shimmer through Alan’s lean body. She looked down and saw that his left leg had begun to tremble. As she watched, it began to jitter and shake. Alan reached a hand down to steady it, but as soon as he let go, the tremors started again.

Alan smiled. “I feel like Robert Klein doing his old I-can’t-stop-my-leg routine.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Spasm. Happens when I’m on it too long. Used to be in both legs, now it’s just my left. Maybe I could try an Elvis imitation.”

“Stop it. Nobody listens to Elvis anymore.”

“I do. But only his Sun stuff, and pre-Army RCA.”

Sylvia smiled. Alan and his oldies. Part of his therapy after the coma had been to rebuild his doo-wop collection. It had worked miracles with his memory linkages.

“Here. Sit down.”

He eased himself back into the wheelchair. The leg stopped its jittering as soon as he took his weight off it.

“Uh-oh,” Alan said, slapping the still leg. “There goes my new career.”

Sylvia bent and hugged him around the neck.

“Have I told you that I love you?”

“Not today.”

“I love you, Alan. And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For standing up and holding me when I needed it. And for making things clear. I think I know what I’m going to do now.”

“Missus?”

Sylvia started at the sound of Ba’s voice. She wished he’d learn to make a little more noise when he moved about. He was like a cat.

He stood behind her holding the new club he’d been working on most of the afternoon to replace the one he’d given to that Jack fellow. Like its predecessor it was studded with diamond-like chew-wasp teeth.

“Yes, Ba?”

“Where is the Boy?”

Fingers of unease brushed her throat.

“I thought he was with you.”

“He was in the garage with me. He wished to go outside. I knew the Missus and the Doctor were here so…”

Ba’s voice trailed off as he did a slow turn, scanning the perimeter of the grounds.