"Come on! Let's get out of here. It'll only get worse. Sutton Square."
"Yes…yes, of course."
He threw the cab into gear and roared toward Central Park West. The jaw-thing's wings fluttered in the sudden rush of air. It slid off the hood but became air-borne, pacing the cab for about fifty yards, butting against the side windows a few times before it gave up.
"Persistent bugger," Jack said as it finally flew off.
"But what was that, mon? It looked like a creature from hell!"
"It just might be. Who knows how far down that hole in the Sheep Meadow goes? Maybe it popped through the roof of hell."
The driver glanced over his shoulder, real fear in his eyes.
"Don't say that, mon. Don't joke about something like that."
"Who's joking?"
They raced down to Columbus Circle, then east on Central Park South. The things from the hole were there ahead of them. People running, screaming, bleeding, dying, cabs careening out of control. Jack's taxi ran the gauntlet, dodging people and vehicles, screeching to a halt as a driverless Central Park hansom cab bolted in front of them, its horse galloping madly, eyes bulging in pain and terror, a sack-thing attached to its neck. And then they were into the calm and relative darkness of 58th Street.
The driver started sobbing.
"It's the end of the world, mon! Oh, I know it is! God's finally had enough. He's going to punish us all!"
"Easy, man," Jack said. "We're safe for the moment."
"Yes! But only for the moment! Judgment Day is here!"
He stopped at a red light and fumbled with something on the seat next to him. When his hand reappeared it held a joint the size of a burrito. He struck a wooden match and puffed furiously. As the cab filled with pungent smoke, he handed the joint back to Jack.
"Here. Partake."
Jack waved him off. "No thanks. Gave that up in high school."
"It's a sacrament, mon. Partake."
The last thing Jack needed now was to get mellow. He wanted every reflex at the ready. And he wanted to beat those things to Gia's place.
"The light's green. Let's go."
Two minutes later he was flipping the driver a ten and leaping to the front door of the townhouse. He rang the bell and slammed the brass knocker. Gia pulled the door open.
"Jack! What—?"
"No time!" He brushed by her. "Get the windows! Close and lock them, all of them! Vicky! Help us out!"
A lot of running, a lot of slamming, and all three floors were sealed up tight. Jack checked and rechecked each window personally. Then he gathered Gia and Vicky together in the library.
"Jack!" Gia said, clutching a very frightened Vicky against her. "You've got to explain this!"
He did. He told them all that had happened since he'd left here a short while ago, editing out the more horrific details for Vicky's sake.
"What does it mean, Jack?" Gia said, pulling Vicky even closer.
He thought of what Veilleur had said about hundreds, thousands of these holes opening up all over the world.
…the end of life as we know it…
"I'm not sure—at least not about the big picture. I do know that an old guy over on the West Side is going to get a Repairman Jack freebie."
He remembered that flock of hole creatures zooming off so purposefully toward the east. They hadn't come to Sutton Square. Maybe they'd continued further on. Where were they headed—Long Island?
Monroe, Long Island
"Mommy! Look at this bug!"
Sylvia heard Jeffy calling her from somewhere in the house. She tamped down the fresh soil around roots of one of her bankan bonsai—the one with the four-curved trunk—and followed the sound of his voice from the greenhouse to the kitchen, wiping the dirt from her hands as she moved. Bugs in the kitchen? She didn't like the sound of that. She became aware of an unsettling odor as she approached it.
She found a plate of cookies half-eaten on the butcher block kitchen table. Gladys, the cook and housekeeper, always left Jeffy a snack before she went home. Jeffy was standing at the back door, pointing up at the screen.
"See it, Mom? It looks like a giant booger!"
As much as Sylvia hated to admit it, Jeffy was right. What appeared to be a big glob of mucous with legs and buzzing wings was clinging to the outside of the screen.
She heard a growl. Old Phemus, their one-eyed mongrel, was crouched by the dishwasher, ears back, tail tucked under him, snarling at the thing on the screen.
"What's the matter, old boy?" she said, patting his head. "Never seen anything like that either, huh?"
As bizarre as the thing was, Sylvia was almost glad to see it. This was one of the few times since yesterday morning that Jeffy had shown any real interest in something besides that Mr. Veilleur. He'd talked about the man incessantly since his visit the other day. Jeffy seemed utterly infatuated with him, repeatedly asking when he was coming back or when Sylvia could take him to see the old man. Sylvia kept putting him off, saying "We'll see" instead of no, hoping the boy's fixation would pass. In the meantime, any distraction was welcome.
Sylvia wrinkled her nose. Whatever this creature was, it stunk. A part of her immediately loathed the thing, but her curiosity edged her forward. Some of its mucous appeared to be oozing through the mesh of the screen. She leaned closer and heard Phemus whine.
"It's all right, boy."
She reached out a finger to—
A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. She whirled and saw Ba. Sylvia stared in shock at the giant Vietnamese. He never touched her, not even to help her out of the car. He looked paler than usual, and he was sweating.
"Ba? What's wrong?"
"Please, Missus, no. Terrible sorry, but you mustn't touch it."
"I wasn't going to touch it, just get a better look."
"Please—let me close the door."
"What is it, Ba? I've never seen anything like it before. Have you?"
"No, Missus, but is an evil thing. You can tell by the smell."
The smell was bad, that was for sure, but if odor were a worthy criterion, Limberger cheese would be evil too. Ba was truly concerned, though, almost frightened. Sylvia had to respect that. An overt sign of emotion from the Vietnamese was an extraordinary event, not something to be taken lightly. And for him to show fear, that was almost unthinkable. Sylvia was suddenly a little afraid herself.
"Very well, Ba," she said, stepping away from the door. "We'll lock up if you think it best."
He smiled with relief. But as he reached for the door to swing it closed, something crashed into the screen. Another bug, but this one was different. A vicious-looking thing that seemed to be all mouth—but its jaws were lined with hundreds of transparent teeth that looked like tiny glass daggers. Some of those teeth had thrust through the metal mesh of the screen on impact. The creature gripped the screen with its tiny claws and began chewing, ripping an ever-larger hole in it.
Ba slammed the door shut as its head poked through.
"My God!" she cried. "What are those things?"
"What are what?" Alan said as he rolled his wheelchair into the kitchen.
"Chew bugs and booger bugs!" Jeffy said.
Sylvia felt him press against her leg, clinging to it. He seemed afraid now. She smoothed his blond hair and offered him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Don't be afraid, Jeffy. They can't get in here."
"Yes, they can! They want to eat me!"
Just then another of the toothed insects buzzed against the screen of the casement window over the sink as Alan was passing. He stopped his chair and stared.