"Great, Hank. But we'll have had to pick our way through the starved corpses of our friends and neighbors to get there. Will that make you happy?"
"Dammit, Carol, I'm not talking about happiness—I'm talking about survival!"
Like talking to a wall, she thought dispiritedly.
"Fine, Hank. Keep on talking about survival. I need some fresh air."
She strode across the lobby and out to the street. Behind her she heard Hank call out.
"Don't forget your list! We need all that stuff by tonight!"
Carol wished she could have slammed the lobby door behind her.
CNN:
The Weekend Report continues with this just in from the White House. The President has declared a national state of emergency. Repeat: a national state of emergency. Reserve units of the Army are being activated. Congress has called an emergency session.
Monroe, Long Island
Sylvia recognized the old man's voice immediately. A wave of resentment surged through her.
"I hope this isn't about moving in with you in the city," she said, controlling her voice. "Pressure tactics won't work, Mr. Veilleur. I don't wear down very easily."
"I'm quite well aware of that, Mrs. Nash. And please call me Glaeken. That's my real name."
Sylvia didn't want to call him that. It was like a first name, and she didn't wish to be on a first-name basis with this man. So she said nothing.
"I didn't call to pressure you into anything," he said after a pause. "I merely wished to inquire as to how you and your household fared last night."
"We did just fine, thank you." No thanks to you.
She repressed the urge to tell him that the strange attraction Jeffy had developed for him had nearly cost the boy his life—and Ba's and her own as well; that if Jeffy hadn't become so fixated on Glaeken he wouldn't have wandered off last night. But in the back of her mind she knew Glaeken could crush her with the simple admonishment that a good mother should know the whereabouts of her child. She'd spent most of the night telling herself the same thing, berating herself for letting Jeffy wander off. If only she'd kept an eye on him, Rudy would still be alive and Ba wouldn't have dozens of healing wounds on the back of his neck.
"This is a tough old house," she said. "And with the metal storm shutters we installed yesterday, it's like a fortress."
The racket last night had been horrendous. Those things from the hole had pounded against the shutters incessantly until sunrise. Sealed in as they were, the silence from outside had been their only clue that daylight had arrived. She'd greeted the dawn with relief and exhaustion.
"Good," Glaeken said. "I'm very glad to hear that. I hope your defenses remain as effective against future assaults. But I called for two reasons. The other is to let you know that Jack, the fellow who let you in yesterday, will be stopping by later for a visit."
"I warned you about pressuring me."
"Have no fear, Mrs Nash. He's not coming to see you. He wishes to speak to Ba."
"Ba? What does he want with Ba?"
She vaguely remembered the wiry, dark-haired, dark-eyed man Glaeken had mentioned—a rather ordinary-looking sort. She had an impression of him and Ba standing at the back of the living room, speaking together in low tones. It was so unusual for Ba to speak at all to a stranger, she remembered wondering if they'd met before.
"Perhaps I'd better let Jack explain that himself," Glaeken said. "Good day, Mrs. Nash."
What on earth could those two have in common? she wondered. She fought the temptation to tip-toe to one of the windows and eavesdrop. She'd know soon enough.
And sure enough, a few minutes later Ba was leading Jack into the house through the back door. Alan rolled in behind them and Jeffy brought up the rear, flipping his football from hand to hand.
"Hi, Mrs. Nash," Jack said, extending his hand. "We met yesterday."
She shook his hand briefly. "I remember."
"Can we all talk?" Jack said.
Alan looked at Sylvia and gave her a puzzled shrug. "Why don't we go into the den," he said.
Sylvia sent Jeffy upstairs to wash his hands and seated herself where she had a view of the stairs. If Jeffy came down, she'd see him. There'd be no wandering off this time. She was determined to know his whereabouts every minute of the day.
Jack seated himself across from her. Ba remained standing near Alan. She sensed tightly coiled tension in the tall Oriental and tried to read his expression, but as usual he was letting nothing show.
Jack said, "Do you remember Glaeken talking about a certain pair of necklaces yesterday?"
Sylvia nodded. "The ones supposedly made from the second focus."
"Right. Well, he's located them on Maui, and I'm going to head out there tomorrow to see if I can get them back."
"I see," Sylvia said, keeping her tone noncommittal. "What does that have to do with Ba?"
"I'd like him to come along."
"And what did Ba say?" She suspected the answer but wanted to hear it for herself.
"He refused. Said he couldn't leave you here unprotected."
Sylvia turned to the Oriental. "Thank you, Ba."
Ba gave her one of his little bows.
"I respect that," Jack said, "but I think it's shortsighted. When the light goes altogether, you're not going to get a break like this. Those things'll be at you nonstop. You won't get a chance to go out and repair the damage and shore up the weak spots. And I don't care how well fortified you are, Mrs. Nash, sooner or later they're gonna break through."
She glanced at Alan who was nodding silent agreement. And why not? The logic was unassailable.
"You can't do this alone?"
"I might be able to. I usually work alone, but this is different. Time is critical." He lifted his bandaged arm. "I've been out in the dark with those things. And I see by Ba's neck that he has too."
"So have I," Sylvia said.
Jack's eyebrows lifted. "Really? Well then, you know what it means to have someone watching your back."
Sylvia remembered the tentacles entwined in her hair, pulling her backward…
Repressing a shudder, she said, "How long have you known this Glaeken fellow?"
"A few days."
"And you're completely convinced?"
He shrugged. "I've seen a lot of scams—worked a few myself. This guy's for real. Besides, everything's going to hell out there at about a hundred and fifty miles an hour. After what I've seen in the past three days, I'm a believer."
Reluctantly, Sylvia admitted to herself that she, too, was becoming a believer.
"When would you be leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning. With any luck I'll have him back on your doorstep sometime Tuesday. Wednesday morning at the latest."
"Two days at the most. You're sure?"
"Pretty sure. Either I can get the necklaces back or I can't. I'll know fairly soon after I get there."
"Two nights," she said slowly. "Ba maybe you should reconsider."
"No, Missus," he said. "It is too dangerous here for you to stay alone."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alan stiffen—a barely perceptible straightening of his spine that would have passed unnoticed by a stranger. But Sylvia knew him too well. Ba would be devastated if he even suspected that his words had stung Alan. He'd never forgive himself.
"Glaeken's offer still stands," Jack told her. "Come into the city. Stay with him. He was right about his place being spared. He's practically hanging over that hole and he hasn't been bothered by a single bug."