– Count to ten and they’ll go away. Count to ten and they’ll go away-
But Michael knew they wouldn’t go away. When they were done with him, Jimmy would again turn his drunken fury on someone who wanted nothing more than to be left alone.
So Michael did what had to be done. Once again violating his code, he burrowed his way into the old man’s brain.
Let me in and I’ll free you, he said. Let me in and all of this will go away forever.
– One two three four five. One two three four five-
Let me in and they can’t hurt you. No will ever hurt you again. It’s the only way. You know it’s the only way.
He had no idea if the old man was listening, and as the blows continued to rain down on him, Michael felt darkness closing in.
When the bum stopped moving, Jimmy spat on him and said, “Guess your balls ain’t so big after all, are they, asshole?”
Cuddy crouched over the guy, feeling for a pulse. “Jesus, Jimmy. He’s dead. We fuckin’ killed him.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Self-defense. Besides, he was already halfway there. We just gave him a nudge.”
“You think the cops are gonna believe that?”
Jimmy saw a bulge in the guy’s back and bent down, pushing his jacket aside. There was a Glock 20 in his waistband. “You see? Fucker was packing. And I don’t see any reason to get the cops involved.”
Cuddy’s eyes were wild. “We’re just gonna leave him here?” He turned to the old bum by the box office, who was still cradling his head. “What about this asshole? He saw the whole thing.”
“Forget him,” Weasel said, starting to back away from them. “He won’t say nothin’. He’s a wack job, remember? He won’t do shit.”
Jimmy pulled the Glock from the bum’s waistband and stood up. “Maybe not. But I’m not willing to give him that chance.”
“What’re you gonna do,” Weasel said, “shoot the guy?”
“I ain’t gonna take his temperature.”
Cuddy shook his head and let loose a nervous laugh. “Jesus, Jimmy, that’s some cold-ass shit.”
“Think about it. I shoot this asshole, put the gun in the other one’s hand and we got a bum fight gone wrong. Case closed.”
Checking the magazine in the Glock, he snapped it back into place and stepped over to the box office, staring down at the old man.
What a waste of fucking space.
Jimmy pointed the Glock at him. “Better say a prayer, dirtbag, if you believe in that kind of thing.”
“Oh, I believe,” the old man said. And to Jimmy’s utter surprise, he pulled his hands away from his head and looked up at him with unnerving clarity. “And so will you before I’m finished.”
Then he shot a hand out, grabbing Jimmy by the ankle, pulling his feet out from under him. Jimmy brought the Glock up, but before he could fire, the old man had hold of his wrist. He felt the bones breaking and dropped the gun as he cried out in pain, begging for the old man to let him go.
He heard footsteps on the asphalt behind him, but they were headed in the wrong direction and he knew that Cuddy and Weasel were running away.
Now the old man was standing over him, a foot pressed against Jimmy’s chest, an odd, amber tint to his eyes.
“You should’ve walked away when you had the chance.”
Michael left the guy there by the box office. Not dead, but probably wishing he was. And once the police found him, good old Jimmy would have a lot of explaining to do about the badly beaten corpse that lay only feet away from him.
What was it he’d said?
A bum fight gone wrong?
Moving down the street, Michael flexed his hands and rolled his shoulders. The punishment he’d doled out had been a good warm-up, but it would take him a while to break in this new body.
He’d have to do it on the run, however.
It was time to get back to Jenna.
32
The rumblings of disaster began on the Internet.
Beel sat at his desk surfing the news sites. Maybe Moloch and
Mamman were right, maybe the cumulative efforts of the last several hundred years were about to pay off.
For weeks, the blogosphere and the social networks were abuzz with the news of the release of a classified document. One that allegedly offered proof that Hezbollah militants had not only gotten their hands on a cache of nuclear weapons, but intended to deploy them against Egypt.
The debate raged over whether or not this document was real, but the damage had been done and the governments of Egypt, Syria, Iran and Lebanon were all on high alert, with Israel scrambling to cover itself as well. All parties concerned were spouting tough, heated rhetoric, which generally sent chills down the spines of anyone who was paying attention.
Less than a week later, North Korea renewed its threats of aggression against the South and attempts at diplomacy by the U.S. secretary of state were deemed an unmitigated disaster. War between the two nations was considered unavoidable.
Add to the mix the downward spiral of the world economy, the riots during the recent G20 summit, violent skirmishes in third world countries, the rise in black market weaponry-including rumors of enriched uranium being smuggled out of Russia-and the general consensus was that the world was about to see a shit storm the likes of which it had never before experienced.
Rather than attempt to find real solutions to these problems, politicians took to the cable airwaves and blamed one another for their failings. Partisan mudslinging had reached a new high. Religious leaders told their followers to begin preparing for the Rapture as the rest of the world sat glued to their TV sets, wondering if they’d be alive for the next episode of Saints and Sinners.
Who would be kicked out of the house? Andrew or Tasha?
Beel smiled appreciatively every time his pet project entered the national conversation. To allow themselves to be distracted at such a critical time by television-well, in Beel’s opinion, they’d get what they deserved.
Perhaps the tipping point was close, and his brothers’ little experiment in Amsterdam would push it over. Or maybe Belial was right about the girl, and the elusive Telum had been found. The ultimate weapon. Beel allowed himself a moment to consider how sweet it would feel to free her.
The hard truth was that nobody really knew what was coming, including-and especially-the world’s heads of state. And what chance did humanity really have with the four of them pulling the strings?
And if this girl really is the Telum, Beel mused, these pathetic little creatures won’t know what hit them on the night of the blood moon.
BOOK VIII
Of these the vigilance
I dread, and to elude, thus wrapt in mist
Of midnight vapor glide obscure, and prie
In every Bush and Brake, where hap may finde
The Serpent sleeping, in whose mazie foulds
To hide me, and the dark intent I bring.
33
ISTANBUL, TURKEY
Batty and Callahan caught a chartered plane at a small airstrip just west of Istanbul.
But as they crossed the tarmac, Batty felt an energy nearby. A darkness deeper than the darkness around them, as if someone were waiting in the shadows, watching them.
He remembered Ajda in that tunnel and wondered if this feeling was just the lingering residue of her attack. That seemed to happen to him sometimes. He had a hard time shaking this stuff off. But as they climbed the steps to the door of the plane, he stopped a moment and glanced around.