The Dark at the End

Jack blinked and rubbed his eyes.

Sleepy.

Concerns, contingencies, and uncertainties about today had made for fitful slumber last night. The confinement of sitting at the watch window and waiting for the Otherness's Godot were dulling his consciousness. He couldn't afford that.

He stood and began walking around in as wide a circle as the tiny room would allow.

Considering what lay immediately ahead, how could his brain and body even consider sleep? He'd run a dozen or more mental checks on all his setups in the mansion. He'd studied the Stinger manual and had the pair set up and ready to rock. He wished he could have test fired one, but no way ... no way.

Nothing left to do but wait ... and watch the snow pile up ... and know that each inch of accumulation further increased the odds of a no-show by Rasalom.

He might have decided to stay in town and wait out the storm. Or he might have become spooked and lit out for parts unknown.

And then what? Jack had three bodies in the garage and his car could be snowed in by the time it became certain Rasalom wasn't coming tonight. How long did he wait before aborting? A day? Two?

Damn. He felt like kicking a hole or two in these walls. Maybe three or four. But it wasn't the O'Donnells' fault. He -

A glow outside.

He leaped to the window and saw headlights working their way down Dune Drive. He watched as they passed the spot where he'd planned to set up the shaped charges. A click of his remote and kaboom! - game over for the R-man.

Same for the hapless bastard driving him.

Jack suddenly wished he'd set the charges as planned - and let the chips fall where they may. That was Rasalom out there. Nothing was more important than stopping him, and as for anyone who happened to wander into the line of fire ... sorry, Charlie. A little collateral damage was a small price to pay for -

Whoa! Where'd all this come from?

He pushed back against the alien homicidal regrets and concentrated on the here and now.

He found the field glasses and focused them on the car as it pulled into the mansion's front yard. Looked like a late model Lincoln Town Car. Typical rental limo. The driver got out and opened the rear door, then hurried to the trunk where he removed a suitcase. As he lugged it through the snow to the front door, another man slid from the rear of the car. Jack trained the glasses on the second's head as he passed in front of the headlights on his way to the house.

He felt his lips pull back from his teeth when he recognized the face.

Rasalom.

The One.

Godot.

He hurried downstairs to where a number of remotes sat on the coffee table next to the M-79 thumper. He picked out the one labeled FRONT DOOR and held it ready.

He'd rigged the front door with a tripwire. He'd wanted to position one of the shaped charges six feet inside the door, set to go off when the door was opened. The blast would pretty much vaporize whoever had his hand on the knob. Trouble was, Jack didn't know who would step through, so he'd scrapped that plan.

Good thing too as he watched the driver push open the door and set the bag inside. He waved to his passenger and scooted back to the warmth of his car. No money exchanged hands. Probably a prepaid fare.

As Rasalom entered and closed the door behind him, Jack pressed the remote. The door's tripwire was now armed for a different kind of surprise. Same with the back door.

A welcome-home gift for the One.

Soon to be the None.