Some small part deep inside felt she was betraying Dawn, but the rest of her knew this was the best course-for her and for the child.
She went to his room and returned with the blanket from his crib.
The Lady wrapped him snugly and said, “You may visit any time you wish.”
And then she walked out.
Weezy felt guilty at the flood of relief when the door closed.
Vicky returned then. “Where’s the baby?”
“The Lady took him to her place, honey,” Gia said. “He’ll be happier there.”
Vicky’s expression said she was pretty happy herself.
Giving in to a need to move, Weezy wandered the room. As she passed the table where she’d left the Compendium, she noticed it was open. She knew she’d left it closed.
She looked at Vicky. “Were you looking through this?”
“That was me,” Gia said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Weezy stared at the open page.
“Was that okay?” Gia said.
Weezy shook herself. “What? Oh, yes. Of course. It’s just that… is there any reason you left it open at this page?”
Gia approached and looked over her shoulder. “No. I just opened it at random. I was going to flip through but then you said coffee was ready. Why?”
“It’s the same page Vicky opened to last night.”
The Naming Ceremony page…
Odd. The page order in the Compendium was in constant flux-random, chaotic. Not impossible that it could open to the same page twice in a row, but the probability was low.
She closed the book, stepped back, and said, “Do me a favor and open it again-anywhere.”
Gia gave her a puzzled expression, then shrugged and smiled. “I remember how this book used to drive Jack nuts. He could never find anything he wanted. I’ll try near the beginning instead of the middle.” She flipped it open and stared. “Well, I’ll be.”
Weezy checked it and felt a little tickle in her stomach. The Naming Ceremony page lay open.
She closed it again and motioned Vicky over.
“Hey, Vicks. Open this for me, will you? Any page you want.”
“Sure.”
She opened it near the middle… revealing the Naming Ceremony.
Gia glanced at Weezy. “Looks like this old book is trying to tell you something.”
Tell me something? Ridiculous.
Or was it?
4
Ernst stormed up to the Lodge’s second floor and found two Kickers replacing the door to one of the rooms. Ernst knew whose room.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Just following orders,” one of the Kickers said. “The boss told us to-”
“Where is he?”
The other jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the room. “Right inside.”
Ernst raised his black, silver-headed cane. “Out of my way! Out!”
They scuttled to the sides, leaving him a clear path through the doorway.
After a number of days’ absence, he’d returned to the Lodge and had been shocked to see its street facade defaced by a pair of steel window shutters on the second floor.
He stormed into the room and found Hank Thompson staring out one of those windows.
“The shutters must come down!”
Thompson smiled as he turned to face him. “Morning, Drexler. How’re they hanging?”
He was goading. Thompson seemed to take inordinate pleasure in annoying him. Well, Ernst was already annoyed- more than annoyed.
“Remove those shutters immediately.”
Thompson gave him a cold stare. “No.”
“This is a historic building. You cannot deface it like this.”
“What’s defaced? These are primo roll-up hurricane shutters. Heaviest of the heavy duty. Watch.”
He picked up a remote, pointed it at the nearest window, and pressed a button. With a soft clatter, a ribbed steel sheet unrolled from the cylinder at the top and slid down the tracks attached to either side of the frame. He pointed the remote at the other window and the same happened, darkening the room.
He grinned. “Pretty neat, huh? And if there’s a power failure, I’ve got a little gadget that lets me crank them up and down by hand.”
“Have you gone mad? This is totally irrational. You’re on the second floor. Someone would have to put up a ladder in full view of the street and the claque of your followers who drape themselves on the front steps.”
Thompson’s smile faltered. “What if what wants in isn’t human? What if it flies through the air?”
Ernst stared at him. He had gone mad.
“‘It’?”
“The Kicker Man warned me. He hasn’t led me wrong yet.”
Was he talking about the Change? Had he had some sort of premonition and was preparing for it?
Ernst hoped he was wasting his time, hoped that Jack, the man Thompson hated so fiercely, had succeeded in stopping the One.
“So don’t waste your breath telling me to undo this. It stays.”
Ernst turned toward the new door. “And this?”
“Steel. With a big bar across it. The walls are stone, two feet thick on the outside, a foot on the inside.” He looked around, nodding. “Yep, I’ll be safe here.”
Ernst saw no point in continuing the conversation, so he walked out.
Where was the One? Alive? Dead? He wished he could call Jack.
5
Jack turned away from the Lady’s window and faced the occupants of the room. He’d taken Gia and Vicky home from Weezy’s, then returned here.
“Storm’s done. You’re sure he’s still alive?”
Both Glaeken and the Lady nodded from their customary places at the table. Weezy was in her place too, the Compendium open before her. And next to her, a new face: Eddie.
Under different circumstances, Jack would have been amused at his reaction to seeing Mrs. Clevenger alive and well, and finally meeting the mysterious “Mr. Foster.” Even though Weezy had prepared him, he’d been awestruck.
Over in the corner, Dawn’s baby, confined in a playpen, contentedly chewed on a bone-a freaking soup bone.
When Eddie had seen him he’d whispered a simple, “Jesus.”
At least he hadn’t done a Kramer.
Glaeken said, “And slowly, very slowly, growing stronger.”
Not what Jack wanted to hear. A supernova of frustration blazed in his chest. He’d blown it. His original plan had been sabotaged-unintentionally, but sabotaged nonetheless-and he’d been forced to improvise. But he couldn’t excuse himself. He’d blown it.
“I need to get back to Nuckateague.”
“For what possible purpose?” Weezy said.
He glared at her. “Oh, I don’t know. To toast some marshmallows over the ashes of Rasalom’s mansion. What else?”
He was walking a thin line here and he didn’t need anyone baiting him with stupid questions.
“I’m serious, Jack. You’ve seen the news. That whole area is crawling with state and local cops. Even Homeland Security is into the act. The Coast Guard found the wreckage of the cabin cruiser, so they’re out on the water patrolling the bay, looking for bodies.”
“But Rasalom is not a body. And he’s not in the water. I don’t care how resilient he is, he’s saddled with a human body. It may be a special human body, but human muscle can’t function in near-freezing water like they’ve got in that bay. Somehow he made it to shore-maybe somewhere along the South Fork, maybe Gardiner’s Island, I don’t know. But he’s on land, and he’s hurt, and he’s hiding.”
“I don’t disagree,” Weezy said. “And if he’s findable, he’ll be found. But not by you.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Think, will you?” she snapped. “You’ll be conspicuous as all hell out there. If you’re poking through the bushes on land, the cops or DHS will want to know who you are and what you’re doing there. If you somehow find a boat to take out, the Coast Guard will want to know the same things. If there’s a chink anywhere in your ID you’ll wind up in jail and completely out of the fight. Is that what you want?”
Of course it wasn’t.
He forced a smile. “I hate it when you’re right.”
She continued her stare. “Funny. You didn’t used to.”