“Yes.”
“How come you never told me about this?”
“I never told anyone. He swore me to secrecy so I’d be allowed on board the boat with the rest of you. Truth is, I was too messed up after the death of my sister to talk much about anything. But if it weren’t for Uncle Jim, I would’ve never known about the sub. He saved my life. I have to at least try to return the favor. But I’ll understand if you don’t want to take the risk.”
Todd was offended. “Screw you, man. Of course I’m going to help you, that’s not the issue. Do you even have any idea what you’re going to do?”
“No. But I’m thinking we need to create some kind of diversion, like what happened with the Reapers. Then, in all the confusion, I sneak into the women’s camp and smuggle Jim out.”
“Assuming he even wants to go. We don’t know what he’s got going on in there. We could get ourselves into deep shit for nothing.”
Ray nodded. “No, you’re right. I really need to talk to him first.”
“Oh, is that all? And just how, exactly, do you plan on getting in there?”
“Maybe I’ll dress up as a woman.”
“Yeah.” Todd looked him over skeptically. “Good luck with that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RAY AND BRENDA
When Agent X hit, Ray Despineau and his big sister, Brenda, were on the road.
It was midnight, New Year’s Eve, and Brenda had a splitting headache. They had been trapped in traffic for more than nine hours, all routes south inexplicably blocked by police and armed troops. Through sheer gall, their driver had managed to bully his way to an off-ramp, but the situation was no better on the streets below. They should have been at the plant by nightfall; Uncle Jim would not be pleased.
“Happy fucking New Year,” muttered their burly limo driver, Apollo, knowing the axe would fall heaviest on him. He was desperate for a toilet break but was punishing himself with the discomfort. His passengers had overcome their own aversion to peeing in plastic cups from the minibar and dumping it out the windows.
“It’s okay, Apollo,” Brenda said. “It’s not your fault. There was no way of knowing the roads would be blocked off like this.”
“I knew we shoulda had a police escort, a big official motorcade. But the bastards wouldn’t give it to us, and now I see why: They were all pulling fucking traffic duty. God-damn flagmen. This is bullshit.”
Suddenly, everything went crazy: a lunatic orchestra of car horns, sirens, alarms, people screaming and yelling- and gunfire. The amount of racket was astounding even for midnight on New Year’s Eve. But very quickly, Ray, Brenda, and Apollo knew something else was going on.
Car crashes! Ray could hear a ridiculous smashing and screeching of tires up on I-95, just a never-ending pileup, hundreds of cars in a row-crash, boom, bash! Their own car was underneath the highway, near the I-195 interchange, so this was all happening right over their heads. Glass rained down, and Ray could see fires up there and hear bloodcurdling screams… and then people started falling! Just jumping over the highway barrier and slamming into the street below like sacks of potatoes.
Drivers started pouring out of their cars, wondering what the hell was going on. Cops screamed at them to get back inside their vehicles. Others just went crazy, hitting the gas and crashing into the traffic around them, like mad bumper cars. As Ray watched, an ambulance swerved into the opposing lane, busted through the line of cars, flew off the road, and hit a freeway pylon-kabam!
All this was bad enough, but what freaked him out the most was when everybody started fighting all of a sudden. Wherever he looked, there were these weird struggles going on: people trying to either kill or kiss one another-it was hard to tell which. But in either case, they were going at it like crazed wildcats, men and women both.
Some of them-a lot of them-looked oddly blue. Blue women ran in from all over, jumping out of cars, tearing their clothes off, and running naked down the road. They all had the same freaky black eyes, shark eyes, and they just swept in from out of nowhere like sharks joining a great big feeding frenzy. Only instead of eating you, they… kissed you. Kissed you and killed you and sucked the living breath right out of your body. Then you came back as one of them.
Ray saw it happening more and more, everywhere he looked. Clothes were shredded; blood was shed, blood both red and black. But one after another, the normal folk were taken down, even the toughest-looking dudes turning into two-legged blue sharks, adding their fevered lust to the frenzy. Crazy was winning, the night overthrown by eye-popping, blue-in-the-face, hysterical lunacy.
The horrible spectacle was not lost on Apollo. He said, “Belt yourselves in and hold tight.”
“What are you doing?” Brenda asked.
“Getting us the fuck out of here.” He shifted into reverse and stomped on the gas.
The limo was a customized 4x4 Escalade, armor-plated and with bulletproof windows and tires that wouldn’t go flat even with big holes in them. Apollo drove it like a bat out of Hell even in normal circumstances-he was a retired Secret Service agent, picking up extra change providing personal security for Sandoval’s “family”-so all at once, they were plowing clear of the mess, making a U-turn, and flying around car wrecks and fight scenes like a star quarterback running for a touchdown. The northbound lane was much less congested, but now they were going in the wrong direction, heading back into the city. A number of other cars were right behind them, piggybacking on the SUV’s momentum.
“Stop!” Brenda shouted. “Where are we going?”
“Sorry, Miss Despineau, but I’m taking you two back home, if we can even make it. It’s the safest place right now. I’m sure Mr. Sandoval would agree.”
Just ahead, Ray could see the lights and big, reassuring office towers of downtown Providence. All that still looked so normal he started to let himself collapse, flipping out from the horrible things he had just witnessed… until they started getting closer. Then he could see the smoke and hear the noise, even with the windows rolled up.
Oh God… oh no, please…
Downtown Providence was a living Hell. All the unfortunate people who had come downtown to join the First Night celebration were discovering it was their Last Night, or in most cases their Last Minute. They were everywhere, running or being chased, and wherever Ray looked, the blue freaks were gaining.
Right away it was obvious that the limo was not getting anywhere near their high-rise condo complex because the main intersection was jammed with all kinds of police and emergency vehicles. But there weren’t too many cops around-just lots of Ex-cops. People kept jumping on the car and beating on the windows, and Apollo kept having to swerve around or speed up and hit the brakes to throw them off. It was making Ray nauseous. Apollo also ran over a few folks, which really pushed Ray over the edge because he couldn’t even run over a squirrel without feeling bad about it.
So Ray was screaming, “Stop! Stop!” and Brenda was babbling, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and everybody all around them was going nuts, but Apollo… Apollo was a damn rock. He knew exactly where he was going and soon found a little alleyway straight into the city.
The streets were surprisingly empty inside, which was maybe not so surprising since it was a holiday and all the offices were closed, but now Apollo could really hit it, and before Ray knew what was happening, they were shooting down a ramp into Sandoval’s underground parking garage. The big steel gate came down like a medieval portcullis.
“Awesome,” Ray moaned.
At least they were safe for the moment. Riverdale Residences was a high-security building for a very exclusive clientele. Nobody could get in or out without an electronic passkey, and each unit had its own private floor and key code. No solicitors.
Brenda threw her BlackBerry down, and cried, “It’s dead! Everything’s dead! I can’t stay here! Darryl is probably freaking out-I have to go get him!” Darryl was Brenda’s miniature schnauzer. She had dropped him at the kennel earlier that morning.