Nightworld (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack) (32 page)

SAPIR: It is what it is. It just … is.

Manhattan

Bill Ryan sat stunned before the TV in Glaeken’s study. He’d turned on the Sapir interview to see if the sight of Nick’s old colleague would shock him back into the real world. Instead it was Bill who had received the shock.

No sunrise on Friday? It seemed impossible, but Dr. Harvey Sapir was world renowned. And to see him break down and cry …

“Nick,” Bill said, turning to the younger man. “What’s going to happen? You’ve been coming on with all sorts of predictions lately. How’s all this going to turn out?”

Nick didn’t answer. His vacant gaze remained fixed on one of the curlicues in the wallpaper design.

Bill closed his eyes and tried to keep from shouting in frustration. Nothing was right. Especially Nick. Because every time he looked at Nick he was reminded of all the people who had suffered because they were close to him, because he’d cared for them. His parents, little Danny Gordon, Lisl, and now Nick. All of them either dead or mad. And to what end? To isolate him? To make him doubt himself? To make him afraid to get close to anyone, or care for anyone again?

Hello, down there! he thought, looking out the study window at the Sheep Meadow hole, a dark splotch in the afternoon light. Guess what? It’s working.

What the hell good was he? Of what use was he to Glaeken? If anything, he was a Jonah. Why did the old man keep him around?

Answerless questions. Glaeken wasn’t even home. He was somewhere in the building readying the deserted apartments for refugees people would be bringing in. Bill would have liked to help—the physical activity might do something to dispel this lethargy weighing upon him—but someone had to stay with Nick. And Bill felt responsible for him.

The doorbell rang.

Strange, he thought as he headed for the door. You needed a key to get up here. Who’d come this far and then ring the bell?

He was startled when he saw the woman standing in the atrium.

“Carol! I didn’t know you were coming.”

The sight of her swept away his lethargy.

“Neither did I. Glaeken sent me up.”

Immediately he knew something was wrong. He looked at her more closely and saw how prominent were the lines in her face. Carol had always looked younger than her years, but today she showed every birthday.

“Come in.” He glanced out into the atrium as she passed. “Nelson back yet?”

“No. And he’s not coming back.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He’s left me.”

“What?”

She sat on the couch and told him about the agony of worry she’d been weathering, and then the phone call she’d just received.

The bastard! He dumped her over the phone? The
phone
?

“You should have come to me when you learned about the accounts,” he heard himself say. “You didn’t have to go through that alone.”

Without realizing it, he had slipped into his old priestly, family-counselor role. He pulled back from it. This wasn’t some parishioner, this was Carol. Someone he knew. No, not just knew, but—he could admit it now—loved since he was a teenager. Silly to try for emotional distance where she was concerned. He’d never make it.

“I didn’t want to get you involved.” She glanced at the vacant-eyed Nick. “You have your own problems.”

“Do you love him, Carol?”

The words slipped out and immediately he wanted to call them back. He went to tell her she didn’t have to answer, then realized she knew that. So he let it hang. The question had plagued him since his return to the city a few months ago. He wanted to know, damn it.

“Yes. In a way. Not like I loved Jim. Nothing like that. This relationship had a much lower ambient temperature.”

“Why did you marry him?”

He couldn’t believe he was asking these questions. But here in the darkening room, with Carol becoming a silhouette against the dying light, he felt he could. Should. He didn’t reach for a lamp. That would break the mood set by the half light.

“I guess I was lonely. When I came back to New York, I knew no one. Mostly, I wanted it that way. I wanted a fresh start. I didn’t want to go back to Monroe and look up old friends. Too much time had passed. They’d just remind me of Jim and the life we had there. And they’d want to know where I’d been all these years, they’d want to know why I left, and they’d want to know about … the baby. I didn’t want to talk about any of it. It would be too much like reliving everything. I wanted to create a new Carol.”

“I can understand that. Perfectly.”

“Can you?”

“Sure. I did it myself in North Carolina. Even changed my name to Will Ryerson. But for different reasons. Strange, isn’t it? We were a thousand miles apart but we were both trying to remodel ourselves, and at just about the same time.”

“Well then, maybe you understand how lonely it can be. At least you have your religious beliefs—”

Bill shook his head slowly. “Had. Had my beliefs. They’re gone now.” Like just about everyone or everything else in my life I’ve cared about. “But go on. Please.”

“This isn’t an easy city to build relationships in. Not if you’re my age and unconnected. You get hit on by men who think because you’ve got some miles on you you’re an easy mark who’ll be so grateful for the attention you’ll hop into bed with them right off, or you’re pursued by ones who’ve already got a couple broken marriages behind them and think nothing of trying a third, or others who are simply looking for someone to take care of them. That’s why Nelson was so refreshing.”

“What was he looking for?”

“Nothing. He was self-sufficient—a lifelong bachelor who knew how to take care of himself. He wasn’t on the make, and neither was I. So we wound up feeling very comfortable with each other. No pressure. Just companionship—real companionship.”

Bill made no comment. He’d heard far worse reasons for marriage.

“Companionship led to a … um … closer relationship, which led to us moving in together. We seemed a good fit, made a good couple, caring and attuned to each other’s needs. After a while we decided to make it legal.” A soft laugh in the growing darkness. “Not the stuff that makes for a hot romance novel, but it worked for us. Until now.”

Bill racked his brain for some brilliant words of advice while fighting the conflicting feelings roiling through him. Carol had been hurt, dealt an emotional slap in the face, and yet he was … glad.

“Carol—”

“You’re still here?” Glaeken said.

They both looked up. He’d entered silently, as he tended to do.

Carol stiffened and turned to look out the window. “My God, it’s almost dark! I’d better get going.”

She shot to her feet and Bill rose with her. It seemed like the day had just begun. He opened his mouth to object but Glaeken beat him to it.

“It’s sunset. You can’t go out now. You’d never make it to the other side of the park, let alone to your apartment. You’ll spend the night here. We’ve plenty of apartments.”

Bill repressed a fist pump. Try as he might, he could not douse the gleeful elation sparking at the prospect of having her near all night.

The Bunker

“I don’t like this place, Mom.”

Gia gave Vicky’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and thought, Neither do I. But she didn’t voice it.

“We’ll be safe here. That’s the important thing.”

“Safe doesn’t come close,” Abe said, panting as he strung a curtain across the back third of the bunker. “Like a fortress it’s built. Four feet of steel-reinforced concrete above, below, and around, all nestled ten feet underground. We’ve got freeze-dried food, running water, a microwave, lights, beds, DirecTV, a DVD and VCR player, a toilet even. What’s not to like?”

How about a window? Gia thought.

They’d made good time along Route 80 through Jersey and into the rolling farmlands of Pennsylvania. She had no idea where she was, and what good would knowing do? As long as trouble stayed far away from Vicky, wherever she was was fine.

They’d spent much of the latter part of the day moving in. Carrying their belongings down through a narrow tube on a vertical ladder—nothing more than rungs set in the concrete—had been an experience. But they were about as settled as they were going to be. Good thing too. Night was falling.

She rubbed her upper arms. Chilly down here. And damp.

And close.

Good thing neither she nor Vicky were claustrophobic. Not yet, at least. She could imagine herself becoming that way if she stayed cooped up within these blank concrete walls too long.

“Anyway,” Abe was saying, “we’ll only have to be down here during the dark hours.”

“Which are getting longer and longer,” Gia said.

“When it’s light we can eat and hang out in the farmhouse. Lots of fun things we can do on the farm.”

“Can I milk a cow?” Vicky said.

Abe laughed. “No cows in that barn. Maybe a few feral chickens left over from the original owner. Fresh eggs instead of powdered would be nice once in a while.”

“So what kind of fun stuff?”

“How about learning to shoot?” He gave one of Vicky’s braids a gentle tug. “How does that sound?”

Gia stared at him. The thought of Vicky with a gun left her momentarily speechless.

“Abe, you’re not … you can’t be serious.”

“I should joke about such a thing?”

“I hate guns.”

He shook his head. “A woman who loves Jack but hates guns. This I’ll never understand. Gun hate was a dubious luxury before the bugs. Now … if what’s been going on keeps up, a gun might be all that stands between you and your daughter and being eaten.”

“You’re the gun expert. I’ll leave the guns to you.”

Abe’s gaze bored into her. “And if something, God forbid, should happen to me?”

Gia gestured around at all the enveloping concrete. “What could happen to us here inside the Berlin Wall?”

“Think about it, okay? Please? For your own sake.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

And I know just what I’ll think: No way.

She fumbled a slip of paper out of her pocket. Jack had written a wavelength on it.

“It’s almost time to contact Jack. What you
can
teach me is how to use your shortwave radio.”

“Topside I’ve got a cell repeater up on the barn with the dish and the shortwave antenna. Try the cell first.”

She shook her head. “We agreed that the shortwave would be the most reliable if things got worse. I want to get used to that.”

She needed to hear Jack’s voice. He knew he’d be worried about her, even though she was here. But Gia was twice as worried about him. He’d stayed in the belly of the beast.

“Hey, Mom,” Vicky said. “Where’s Parabellum?”

Gia turned and saw the empty cage.

“He’s gone!” Abe cried. “We’ve got to find him! He’ll never survive!”

WFPW-FM

This just in: The New York City Department of Corrections has reported a massive jailbreak from Riker’s Island less than an hour ago. After approximately eighty-five percent of guards on the third shift called in sick, the second shift refused overtime pay and walked off.