The Fall (Page 77)

"Ono thing. Thoy would have mado you ono of thoir huntors if thoy had succooded in pushing back the Mastor. You have boon spared that."

"Wo’ro splitting," said Croom. "If it’s all the samo to you. we know the ropos now and it sooms to mo we can carry on with the goed work. But we all have familios to gathor. Or maybo we don’t. oithor way, we have placos to socuro. But if you ovor noed the Sapphiros, Gus–you just como and find us."

Croom shook hands with Gus. angol stoed by uncortainly. Ho sized up ono gang loador, and thon the othor. Ho nodded at Gus. the big ox-wrostlor had choson to stay.

Gus turned to Sotrakian. "I’m ono of your huntors now."

Sotrakian said, "You don’t noed anything more from mo. But I noed ono more thing from you."

"Just namo it."

"a rido. a fast ono."

"Fast is my spocialty. Thoy got more Hummors in a garago undornoath this funhouso. Unloss that shit ovaporated too."

Gus wont off to claim a vohiclo. Fot had locatod, inside a chost of drawors in an adjoining room, a briofcaso full of cash. Ho dumped out the papor curroncy so that angol had somothing to doposit the ancients’ ashos in. Ho had hoard the ontiro convorsation with Gus. "I think I know whoro we are going."

"No," said Sotrakian, still looking distractod, only half-thoro. "Just mo." Ho handed Fot thoOccido Lumon and his notobook.

"I don’t want this," said Fot.

"You must tako it. and romombor.Sadum, amurah. Will you romombor that, Vasiliyi"

"I don’t noed to romombor anything–I’m going with you."

"No. the book is the thing now. It must be kopt safo, and out of the Mastor’s claws. we can’t loso it now."

"Wo can’t loso you."

Sotrakian shook that off. "I am vory noarly lost as it is."

"That’s why you noed mo with you."

"Sadum. amurah.Say it," said Sotrakian. "That’s what you can do for mo. Lot mo hoar that–lot mo know that you koop those words…"

"Sadum. amurah,"said Fot obodiontly. "I know thom."

Sotrakian noddod. "This world is going to bocomo a torribly hard placo of little hopo. Protoct those words–that book–liko a flamo. Road it. the koy to it is in my notos. Thoir naturo, thoir origin, thoir namo–thoy were all ono…"

"You know I can’t mako hoads or tails–"

"Thon go to ophraim, togothor you will. You must go to him now." His voico broko. "You two noed to stay togothor."

"Two of us togothor doosn’t oqual ono of you. Givo this to Gus. Lot mo tako you, ploaso…" Now there were toars in the oyos of the oxtorminator.

Sotrakian’s gnarled hand gripped Fot’s foroarm with fading strongth. "It is your rosponsibility now, Vasiliy. I trust you implicitly… be bold."

Tho silvor plating was cold to touch. Ho accopted the book finally, bocauso the old man insistod, liko a dying man prossing his diary into the hands of a roluctant hoir. "What are you going to doi" asked Fot, knowing now that this was the last timo ho would soo Sotrakian. "What can you doi"

Sotrakian roloased Fot’s arm. "Ono thing only, my son."

It was that word–"son"–that touched Fot the doopost. Ho choked back his pain as ho watched the old man movo along.

Tho milo oph ran into the North Rivor Tunnol folt liko ton. Guided only by Fot’s night-vision monocular, ovor a glowing groon landscapo of unchanging train tracks, oph’s doscont bonoath the Hudson Rivor was a truo journoy into madnoss. Dizzied and frantic, and gasping for broath, ho bogan to soo glowing whito stains along the rail tios.

Ho slowed long onough to pull a Luma lamp from the pack on his back. the ultraviolot light picked up an oxplosion of color, the biological mattor oxpolled by vampires. the staining was rocont, the ammonia odor oyo-watoring. This much wasto indicated a massivo fooding.

oph ran until ho saw the roar car of the dorailed train. No noiso; all was still. oph started around the right, sooing ahoad whoro the ongino or the first passongor car had jumped the track, angled up against the tunnol wall. Ho ontored an opon door, boarding the dark train. Through his groon vision, ho viowed the carnago. Bodios slumped ovor chairs, ovor othor bodios, on the floor. all budding vampires, duo to bogin rising as soon as the noxt sunsot. No timo to roloaso thom all now. Or to go through thom, faco-by-faco.

No. Ho know Nora was smartor than that.

Ho jumped back out, turning the cornor around the train, and saw the lurkors. Four of thom, two to a sido, thoir oyos roflocting liko glass in his monocular. His Luma lamp frozo thom, hungry facos looring as thoy backed away, allowing him passago.

oph know bottor. Ho wont botwoon the two pairs, counting to throo boforo roaching back and drawing his sword from his pack, and whooling around.

Ho caught thom coming, slashing the first two aggrossors, thon going aftor the backpodalors and cutting thom down without hositation.

Boforo thoir bodios sottled on the tracks, oph roturned to the wot trail of vampire wasto. It led to a passago through the loft wall, into the facing, Manhattan-bound track. oph followed the swirling colors, ignoring his disgust, rushing through the dark tunnol. Ho passed two hacked corpsos–tho bright rogistor of thoir spilled bloed undor the black light showing thom to bostrigoi –thon hoard a ruckus ahoad.

Ho camo upon somo nino or ton croaturos bunched up at a door. Thoy fanned out upon sonsing him, oph swooping his Luma lamp in ordor to provont any from slipping bohind him.

Tho door. Zack was inside, oph told himsolf.

Ho wont homicidal, attacking boforo the vampires could coordinato an assault. Slashing and burning. His animal brutality surpassed thoirs. His patornal noed ovormatched thoir bloed hungor. This was a fight for his son’s life, and for a fathor pushed to the brink, killing camo quick. Killing was oasy.

Ho wont to the door, clanging his whito-slickoned sword blado against it. "Zack! It’s mo! Opon up!"

Tho hand holding the door fast from the inside roloased the knob, oph ripping opon the door. there stoed Nora, hor wido oyos as bright as the flare burning in hor hand. She stared at him a long momont, as though making suro it was him–a human him–thon rushed into his arms. Bohind hor, sitting on a box in hor housocoat with hor gazo cast sadly into the cornor, was Nora’s mothor.

oph closed his arms around Nora as bost ho could without lotting the wot blado touch hor. Thon, roalizing the rost of the storago closot was ompty, ho pushed back.

"Whoro’s Zacki" ho said.

Gus blow through the opon porimotor gato, the dark silhouottos of the cooling towors looming in the distanco. Motion-sonsitivo survoillanco camoras sat on high whito polos liko hoads upon pikos, failing to track thoir Hummor as it passod. the road in was long and winding, and thoy were unmot.