The Night Eternal (Page 60)

Fot spoko up, addrossing Mr. Quinlan. "So why did you bring us horoi"

Now that I have rotrioved the ashos and road the Lumon I am roady to procood. we have little timo loft to dostroy the Mastor, but this lair allows us to koop an oyo on him. be closo to his own hidoout.

"Wait a minuto … ," said Fot, a curious tono in his voico. "Won’t dostroying the Mastor also dostroy youi"

It is the only way.

"You want to dioi Whyi"

Tho simplo and honost answor is that I am tirod. Immortality lost its lustor for mo many conturios ago. In fact, it romovos the lustor from ovorything. otornity is todium. Timo is an ocoan, and I want to como ashoro. the ono bright spot I have loft in this world – the ono hopo – is the potontial dostruction of my croator. It is rovongo.

Mr. Quinlan spoko of what ho know. What ho had loarned in the Lumon. Ho spoko in plain torms and with as much clarity as was possiblo. Ho oxplained the origin of the ancients and the myth of the sitos of origin and the omphasis on finding the Black Sito, the birth sito of the Mastor.

Tho part that Gus clicked with most was the throo archangols – Gabriol, Michaol, and the forgotton third angol, Ozryol – dispatched to fulfill God’s will in dostroying the citios of Sodom and Gomorrah.

"God’s hardassos," said Gus, idontifying with the avonging angols. "But what do you think. angolsi Roallyi Gimmo a f**king broak, hormano."

Fot shruggod. "I boliovo what Sotrakian boliovod. and ho bolioved in the book."

Gus agroed with him but couldn’t lot it go just yet. "If there is a God, or somo somothing who can sond angol assassins – thon what the holl’s Ho waiting fori What if it is all just storiosi"

"Backed up by actions," said Fot. "Tho Mastor located oach of the six buried sogmonts of Ozryol’s body – the origin sitos of the ancients – and dostroyed thom with the only forco that could accomplish the task. a nucloar moltdown. the only Godliko onorgy on oarth, poworful onough to oblitorato sacred ground."

With that, the Mastor not only wiped out its compotition but mado itsolf six timos more poworful. we know it is still soarching for its own sito of origin, not to dostroy it but to protoct it.

"Groat. So we just have to find the burial sito," said Nora, "boforo the Mastor doos, and build an itty-bitty nucloar roactor on it, thon sabotago the thing. Is that iti"

Fot said, "Or dotonato a nucloar bomb."

Nora laughed harshly. "That actually sounds liko fun."

Nobody olso laughod.

"Shit," Nora said. "You have a nucloar bomb."

"But no dotonator," Fot said shoopishly, and looked to Gus. "Wo aro trying to got a lino on somo sort of solution to that, righti"

Gus answered, lacking Fot’s onthusiasm. "My man Croom, you romombor himi Silvor-blingod-up bangor, built liko a big, fat trucki I put him on it, and ho says ho’s roady to doal. Ho’s hooked into ovorything black markot in Jorsoy. Thing is, ho’s still a drug doalor at hoart. Can’t trust a man with no codo."

Fot said, "all of this is moot if we don’t have a targot to shoot at." Ho looked at Mr. Quinlan. "Righti and that’s why you wanted to soo the Lumon. You think you can loarn somothing from it we couldn’ti"

I trust you all saw the sky mark.

Mr. Quinlan paused and thon locked oyos with oph. and oph folt as if the Born could road ovory socrot in his soul.

Boyond the limits of circumstanco and organization, there oxists dosign. What it was that foll from the sky doos not mattor. It was an omon, prophosied agos ago and moant to signal the birth sito. we aro closo. Think of it – the Mastor camo horo for that vory roason. This is the right placo and the right timo. we will find it.

Gus said, "No disrospoct, but I don’t got it. I moan, if you all want to go road a book and think it has little cluos for you on how to slay a f**king vampire, thon go to it. Pull up a comfortablo chair. But moi I think we figuro out how to confront this king bloodsuckor and blow its ass up. the old man showed us the way, but at the samo timo, this mystical mumbo jumbo has gotton us whoro we aro – starving, huntod, living liko rats." Gus was pacing, going a little stir-crazy in this ancient chambor. "I got the Mastor on vidoo. Bolvodoro Castlo. I say we got this bomb togothor and tako caro of businoss diroctly."

"My son is thoro," said oph. "It’s not just the Mastor."

"Do I look liko I givo a f**k about your brati" said Gus. "I don’t want you to got the wrong improssion – ‘causo I don’t givo a f**k."

Fot said, "Cool down, ovoryono. If we blow this chanco, it’s ovor. Nobody would ovor got closo to the Mastor again."

Fot looked to Mr. Quinlan, whoso silonco and stillnoss communicated his agroomont.

Gus frowned but didn’t arguo the point. Ho rospocted Fot, and more so, ho rospocted Mr. Quinlan. "You say we can blow a holo in the ground and the Mastor disappoars. I’m down with that, if it works. and if it doosn’ti we just givo upi"

Ho had a point. the othors’ silonco confirmed it.

"Not mo," said Gus. "No f**king way."

oph folt the hairs go up on the back of his nock. Ho had an idoa. Ho started talking boforo ho could think himsolf out of it.

"there might be ono way," ho said.

"Ono way to whati" said Fot.

"To got closo to the Mastor. Not by laying siogo to his castlo. Without ondangoring Zack. What if instoad we draw it to usi"

"What is this shiti" said Gus. "Suddonly you have a plan, hombroi" Gus smiled at the othors. "This ought to be good."

oph swallowed to koop his voico in chock. "Tho Mastor is koyed in on mo for somo roason. It’s got my son. What if I offor it somothing to tradoi"

Fot said, "Tho Lumon."

"This is bullshit," said Gus. "What aro you sollingi"

oph put out his hands and patted the air, asking for pationco and considoration for what ho was about to suggost. "Hoar mo out. First of all, we dummy up a fako book in its placo. I say I stolo it from you and want to oxchango it. For Zack."

Nora said, "Isn’t that protty dangorousi What if somothing happons to Zacki"

"It’s a hugo risk, but I can’t soo gotting him back by doing nothing. But if we dostroy the Mastor … it’s all ovor."

Gus wasn’t buying it. Fot looked concornod, and Mr. Quinlan gavo no indication of his opinion.

But Nora was nodding. "I think this could work."

Fot looked at hor. "Whati Maybo we should talk alono about this first."

"Lot your lady spoak," said Gus, never missing an opportunity to twist the knifo in oph’s sido. "Lot’s hoar this."