I raced toward the door. And I had almost made it when a hand burst out of the darkness. It grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. Before I could react, his other hand took my gun.
“Hello, Susan,” Edgar said, smiling. “Good to see you again.”
36
“Aren’t they magnificent?” His eyes rolled up in his head, even as his hand remained tight around my throat. “ ‘The throbbing of the bells! Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells!’ ”
I tried to speak but couldn’t. His grip was too tight.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed my little tableau. Your friend Patrick tried to spoil it, you know. But I couldn’t allow that. Not when I’m so close.”
He loosened his viselike fingers just enough that I could speak. “Why did you have to kill him?”
“I’m afraid I lacked the time for a more subtle response.”
“Those bells are killing Rachel. And the other girls.”
“Not killing. Translating.”
“Have you hurt her?”
“I haven’t put a mark on her.”
“I said, have you hurt her?”
“Not as much as you have.”
I thought I was going to explode. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nothing you don’t already know. You’ve damaged that poor girl with your drinking, your temper, your self-indulgent weltschmerz, your flights of martyrdom. She’s felt alone in the world, unwanted. Forgotten by the only family she has.”
“Let me take her down.” The anger had left my voice. I was begging. “Let me save her before it’s too late.”
“You won’t be able to get to her.”
“And why the hell not?”
He removed a small radio transmitter from his jacket pocket and pushed the first button on the keypad. “Because the hotel is on fire.”
The building exploded. That’s what it seemed like. The sound was deafening, utterly drowning those bells, which had been unbearable only moments before. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear the crowd screaming, running, crying. I could imagine the pandemonium that must have descended. And even though I couldn’t hear it anymore, I knew Rachel was still getting her brains splintered by that damn bell.
“This is just the start,” Edgar said, almost giggly with excitement. “I’ve got ten C4 charges set all over the hotel, conveniently close to the gas mains. Disconnected the sprinkler system, too.” His eyes were wide and manic. I could barely stand to look at him. “This whole place is crumbling! Isn’t it wonderful?” He was totally consumed by his delusion, far worse than when I had seen him last. All vestiges of sanity, of humanity, were gone. “It’s ‘The Fall of the House of Usher,’ the greatest of the prophet’s stories, coupled with the greatest of his poems. ‘By the mystical magical tolling of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells!’ ”
It was getting hot back here. The fire outside was superheating the ballroom. Smoke inundated this dark, narrow passage behind the cathedral as well, making it difficult to speak or breathe.
He pushed a button and I heard another explosion. This one was farther away, but I was certain it was still inside the hotel. Maybe the casino. Maybe the spa. No telling how many people would be hurt or killed.
“It’s not too late for you,” he said breathlessly. “You could be Madeline to my Roderick. You could join us, Susan, join Rachel and Ginny and me. We’ll unite as comrades in the Golden Age.”
I thought fast. “I’d like that.”
“This can be the Day of Ascension for all of us, a passage from this virulent world to one of-” In the midst of his rapture, he loosened his grip on my neck and body. And that was all the invitation I needed. Mustering my strength, I bodychecked him against the cathedral. His head slammed back against a wooden beam. While he was momentarily stunned, I knocked the detonator out of his hand.
“No!” he screamed, but he was much too late to stop me. I scooped the detonator off the floor and shoved it into my pocket, then raised my fist to deliver a knockout blow to his solar plexus.
And he raised a gun. My gun.
“You don’t deserve to ascend,” he said bitterly, blinking from the pain, blood dripping down the side of his head. “You will die right here in this miserable world where you belong.”
He fired.
O’Bannon swore, but it wasn’t productive, because no one could possibly hear him. What the hell had happened? There’d been an explosion, and seconds later the whole ballroom was on fire. Within moments the front doors were congested and blocked. Bedlam ensued. Rabid partygoers were punching, screaming, crying, reeling, desperate to get away from the flames. Smoke billowed through the enclosed area, making it difficult to see or breathe. The air was thinning. Without an alternative exit, they’d all suffocate, maybe even before they burned.
Fighting his way through the mass hysteria, O’Bannon got to a side door-led to the kitchen, if he wasn’t mistaken. There was a crowd around, trying unsuccessfully to open it. Seemed to be locked from the other side. Well, he had the cure for that.
“Stand back,” he bellowed. He pulled out his weapon and fired three times at the lock mechanism.
Good thing it wasn’t chained, or even that might not have worked. As it was, the bullets weakened it enough that he could kick the door open. As soon as he did, the crowd surged through it, coughing, crying, gasping for air. But they had a way out. At least until that one was blocked.
A second explosion rocked the room. My God, he wondered, where did that one go off? How the hell did he stop this?
And what happened to Susan?
Last he’d seen of her, she’d headed behind that fake cathedral. She hadn’t emerged, at least not that he’d seen.
He scanned the still-packed room. No sign of her, and he couldn’t believe she’d just leave, not in the midst of all this chaos.
There was only one reason she would be back there while this turmoil was raging.
Cautiously, gun still in hand, he made his way toward the cathedral.
The bullet missed, at least in the sense that it didn’t kill me on the spot. It seared my right arm, creating a fierce burning pain that brought sudden tears to my eyes and gave me a bad case of the shakes.