Yes! It was closing! And below—she shifted the glasses—what was happening with the new hole?
But it wasn't a hole yet. Maybe it never would be. More like a depression, a cave-in of some sort.
The tremors stopped.
Then silence. Sylvia lowered the field glasses and paused, listening. Silence like no silence she could ever recall. Not a bird, not an insect, not a breeze was stirring. She could hear the rush of her own blood through her arteries, but nothing else. All the world, all of nature paused, frozen, stunned, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
It lasted one prolonged agonized moment. And then, for the second time tonight, the light began to fade.
The silence was shattered by a burst of cries of renewed terror from below, then the chant began again. She heard Ba begin to repeat the words behind her. Sylvia joined him, whispering the litany as she raised the glasses and scanned the roiling crowd for Carol or Bill or Jack—anyone she knew.
The chant was failing this time. Despite thousands of throats shouting the words at the tops of their lungs, the light continued to fade.
We've lost!
Somehow in the dying light she managed to pick out Carol's familiar figure at the edge of the new hole, or depression, or wherever it was. She wanted to shout down to her to get away from there. That was where the new threat would arise. But Carol was right on the edge, pointing down at the bottom of the depression. She was jumping up and down, hugging Bill, hugging everyone within reach. What—?
Sylvia refocused on the bottom of the pit. Something moving there, struggling in the loose dirt. She strained to see in the last of the light.
A man. A man with red hair.
Glaeken? Alive? But he couldn't be. If he survived down there it could only mean—
Suddenly Ba was at her side, pointing across the Park toward the east side.
"Look, Missus! Look!"
In all their years together, she had never heard such naked excitement in his voice. She looked.
The crowd below couldn't see it yet, but from this elevation there could be no doubt. Sylvia didn't need the field glasses. Straight ahead, down at the far end of one of the concrete canyons, a bright orange glow was firing the sky over the East River.
"The sun, Missus! The sun is rising!"
Part IV
DAWN
FRIDAY
IN THE BEGINNING…
Carol stood on Glaeken's rooftop in the bright morning sunlight and wished she had the nerve to remove her blouse. Jack and Bill had pulled off their shirts as soon as they'd stepped out the door. Carol envied the males their casual ability to expose so much surface area to the warm light pouring through the cloudless sky.
Why not me? she thought, reaching for the top buttons on her blouse. After all we've been through together, what difference would it make?
But she stopped after two buttons. If it was just Bill, maybe. But not with Jack here.
I know I've been changed by all this—but not that much. An uptight Catholic girl was still alive and well somewhere within her.
"Still hard to believe it's over," Jack said.
"What a mess," Bill said, looking over the city.
Carol followed his gaze. There didn't seem to be an unbroken window in the city. Ruined buildings were everywhere, some torn apart by gravity holes, some crushed by debris falling from other gravity holes. Above them, pillars of smoke rose from fires still raging here and there about the city. Below, a rare car picked its way through the cluttered streets. Dazed looking people wandered the sidewalks or stood around the huge depression that only hours ago had been the Sheep Meadow hole.
"It's not all bad," Jack said. "When was the last time midtown air smelled this clean?"
Bill nodded. "You've got apoint. I'm just wondering how we'll ever rebuild this."
"Who said we should? And anyway, it won't be 'us' doing the rebuilding—it'll be them. And believe me it won't be long before we're all back to the same old shit."
Carol stepped between them. "Do you think anyone down there knows what you two did?"
"No," Jack said sharply. He suddenly seemed uneasy. He began slipping back into his shirt. "And let's leave it that way."
"Don't want to be a hero?" Bill said, smiling.
"I don't even want to be noticed." He turned toward the door.
"Leaving?" Carol said.
"Yeah. Soon as I find a car with gas I'm heading out to Pennsylvania." A light glowed in his eyes. "Abe's bringing Gia and Vicky back. I'm going to provide the escort."
"Good luck," Bill said.
Carol watched Jack leave. "Heaven help anyone who tries to block the return of the two women in his life."
Bill slipped his arm around her waist and turned her toward the ruined cityscape before them.
"I doubt heaven helps anybody."
"Just a figure of speech. But I do wonder who or what will get the credit for the sunrise."
Bill laughed. "I heard a bunch of guys singing 'Here Comes the Sun' over and over. I'll bet that becomes a new religious hymn. But you're right. A whole new mythology could rise out of this. A new round of sun worship, that's for sure. It'll be interesting to see what develops."
"But whatever it is, it will be wrong. They'll be looking for some deity to praise and thank."
"That's nothing new."
"But what about you? You deserve part of the credit."
Bill shook his head. "No. I just ran an errand." He looked into her eyes. "You're the one who found the real key and put it to use. You saw that the answer was inside us rather than outside."
"It's always been that way, hasn't it? We've always been in charge but we've never taken control. We just let ourselves get pushed this way and that."
"Fear is like a disease, and I guess some of us have better immune systems than others. Sometimes we need a little help from others, but we all have the power to step aside and say I'm not going to be a part of this anymore."
She locked her arms around his waist and smoothed his wind-ruffled gray hair.
"Do you think things will be different?"
He shook his head. "I like to think I'm more optimistic than Jack, but I fear he's right. There'll be lots of talk about a new world and a new brotherhood but in no time it'll be business as usuaclass="underline" the truly capable people, the ones you'd be proud to call leader, will be devoting all their time to the actual rebuilding, while the usual crew of blowhards who are incapable of building anything will be generating hot air and pretending to lead. Nothing changes."
"That's not true, Bill. I'm changed, you're changed, we've all been changed by this."
"Especially Glaeken."
Yes, she thought with a pang of anguish. Especially poor Glaeken. What would he do, where would he go when Magda was gone?
And Sylvia and Jeffy—what about them?
So many questions, so many uncertainties.
She locked her arms around Bill's waist and snuggled against him.
At least there were a few things of which she could be sure—her love for Bill, for one, and the certainty that no one alive today would ever again take sunrise for granted.
And beneath their feet, in the apartment directly below, a young red-haired man with an ageless thirty-five-year-old body was spoon-feeding applesauce to the twisted, feeble-minded woman he loved so dearly and with whom he had hoped to grow old.