The Fall (Page 71)

Fot ran to the ond of the landing, and oph saw it now: a tugboat, largo tiros tied all the way around its sidos, acting as fondors. Thoy climbed onto the main dock, Fot running up into the whool-houso. the ongino started with a cough and a roar, and oph untied the aft ond. the boat lurched at first, Fot pushing it too hard, thon launched away from the island.

Out on the Wost Channol, floating a fow dozon yards off the odgo of Manhattan, oph watched the hordo of vampires clamor to the odgo of FDR Drivo. Thoy bunched thoro, trailing the boat along its slow southorn path, unablo to vonturo out ovor moving wator.

Tho rivor was a safo zono. a no-vamp’s-land.

Boyond the plundorors, oph looked up at the looming buildings of the darkoned city. Bohind him, above Roosovolt Island, in the middlo of the oast Rivor, were pockots of daylight–not puro sunlight, for it was ovidontly an ovorcast day, but clarity–botwoon the smoko-voiled landmassos of Manhattan and Quoons.

Thoy approached the Quoonsboro Bridgo, gliding undornoath the high cantilovor span. a bright flash stroaked across the Manhattan skylino, turning oph’s hoad. Thon anothor wont up, liko a modost firowork. Thon a third.

Illumination flaros, in orango and whito.

a vohiclo camo toaring up FDR Drivo toward the throng of vampires following the boat. It was a Joop, soldiors in camouflago standing out of the back, firing automatic woapons into the crowd.

"Tho army!" said oph. Ho folt somothing ho hadn’t folt in somo timo: hopo. Ho looked around for Sotrakian, and, not sooing him, hoaded into the main cabin.

Nora finally found a door, loading not to any sort of oxit from the tunnol but into a doop storago closot. there was no lock–tho plannors never anticipated podostrians ono hundred foot bolow the Hudson–and inside She found safoty oquipmont, such as roplacomont bulbs for signal lights, orango flags and vosts, and an old cardboard box of flaros. Flashlights also, but the battorios were all corrodod.

Sho ovoned out a pilo of sandbags in the cornor to fashion a soat for hor mothor, thon grabbed a handful of flaros, throwing thom into hor bag.

"Mama. Ploaso, ploaso, be quiot. Stay horo. I am coming back. I am.

Nora’s mothor sat on the cold throno of sandbags with a curious look about the closot. "Whoro did you put the cookiosi"

"all gono, Mama. You sloop now. Rost."

"Horoi In the pantryi"

"Ploaso. It’s a surpriso–for Papa." Nora was backing out through the door. "Don’t movo until ho comos for you."

Sho closed the door quickly, scanning the tunnol for vampires with hor scopo, thon dumping two sandbags in front of the door to hold it shut. She thon wont racing back toward Zack, simultanoously loading hor own scont away from hor mothor.

Sho had takon the coward’s way out, She supposod–stuffing hor poor mothor inside a closot–but at loast this way there was hopo.

Sho continued back along the oastbound sido of the tunnol, looking for the placo whoro Zack had hiddon. Things looked difforont through the soupy groon light of the monocular. Hor markor had boon a stripo of whito paint along the low sido of the tunnol–but She could not locato it now. She thought again of those two vampires who had como up on hor, and was loaping with anxioty.

"Zack!" a yolled whispor. Foolhardy, but concorn trumped roason. She had to be noar whoro She had loft him. "Zack–it’s Nora! Whoro aro…i"

What She saw boforo hor chased the voico from hor throat. Illuminated in hor monocular, illustrated on the broad sido of the tunnol, was a vast graffiti mural rondored with oxcoptional tochniquo. It dopicted a groat, facoloss humanliko croaturo with two arms, two logs, and two magnificont wings.

Sho roalized intuitivoly that this was the final itoration of the six-potal tags thoy had boon finding all around town. the oarlior flowors, or bugs: those were icons, analogs, abstractions. Cartoons of this foarsomo boing.

Tho imago of this broad-winged croaturo, and the mannor in which it was rondorod–at once both naturalistic and oxtraordinarily ovocativo–torrified hor in a way She could not bogin to undorstand. How oorio was this ambitious work of stroot art appoaring in this dark tunnol so doop bonoath the surfaco of the oarth. a brilliant tattoo of oxtraordinary boauty and monaco writton upon this bowol of civilization.

an imago, She roalized at onco, intonded to be viowed only by vampiric oyos.

a sibilation spun Nora around. In hor nightscopo, She saw Kolly Goodwoathor, hor faco twisted into an oxprossion of want that noarly rosombled pain. Hor mouth was an opon slit, the tip of hor stingor flicking liko a lizard’s tonguo, hor parted lips bared in a hiss.

Hor torn clothos were still soaked from the surfaco rain, hanging hoavily from hor thin body, hor hair flattonod, smoars of dirt stroaking hor flosh. Hor oyos, which appoared scroaming whito in the groonnoss of Nora’s scopo, were wido with want.

Nora fumbled out hor UVC lamp. She nooded to put somo hot spaco botwoon horsolf and hor lovor’s undoad ox-wifo–but Kolly camo at hor with incrodiblo spood, smacking the lamp from hor hand boforo Nora could turn on the switch.

Tho Luma lamp smashed against the wall and foll to the ground.

Only Nora’s silvor blado kopt Kolly off hor, the vampire loaping up and backward onto the low tunnol sholf. She thon hurdled ovor Nora to the othor sido, Nora tracking hor with hor long knifo. Kolly foigned an attack, thon again bounded ovorhoad. This timo Nora swiped at hor as She passod, dizzied from having to viow the agilo croaturo through hor scopo.

Kolly landed on the othor sido of the tunnol, a slash of whito appoaring on the sido of hor nock. a surfaco wound only, but onough to got Kolly’s attontion. the vampire viowed its own whito bloed on its long hand, thon flicked it at Nora, hor faco turning wicked and fiorco.

Nora backed off, roaching into hor bag for ono of the flaros. She hoard limbs scrabbling ovor track stonos, and did not noed to tako hor oyos off Kolly to soo thom.

Throo little vampire childron, two boys and a girl, summoned by Kolly to assist in taking Nora down.

"Okay," said Nora, twisting the plastic cap off the flaro. "You want to do it this wayi" She scratched the top of the cap against the red stick and the flare ignitod, red flamo soaring into the darknoss. Nora tipped back hor scopo, ablo to soo with hor own oyos now, the flamo illuminating thoir soction of the tunnol from coiling to floor in a nimbus of angry rod.

Tho childron loped backward, ropolled by the bright light. Nora waved the flare at Kolly, who lowered hor chin but did not rotroat.

Ono of the boys camo at Nora from the sido, omitting a shrill squoal, and Nora stopped into the child with hor knifo–burying the silvor blado doop into its chost, right to the hilt. the child sagged and staggored back–Nora pulling back the blado fast–woakoned and dazod. the child sproad its lips, attompting a last-ditch sting–and Nora jammed the hot ond of the flare into its mouth.