“I know.”
Her attitude had switched a hundred and eighty degrees from last night. The arm wound had seemed old then, well on its way to healing. But this one was fresh. And he could feel her trembling inside.
Still holding him, she said, “Don’t you feel it’s all unraveling?”
“‘All’?”
“The world.”
“What makes you think it was ever truly raveled?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I do.”
Was she sensing Rasalom’s ascent? Ever since her coma she seemed sensitized to the Conflict. She’d seen what she interpreted as a landscape of the future while she was out, and it had ended in impenetrable darkness this coming spring.
And spring was only weeks away.
Her hug tightened. “I’m worried.”
“I know.”
“Not for myself, so much. I’m worried for you. But most of all I’m worried for Vicky. There’s so much I want for her. I want her to fall in love, I want her to have a chance at motherhood, I want her to…”
“Live long and prosper?”
She laughed softly. “Exactly, Mister Spock. Actually, that’s the least of what I want for her. I want everything for her, or at least a chance at it.”
“I’ll do my damnedest to see that she gets that chance.”
No more needed to be said.
FRIDAY
1
Dawn was going crazy with boredom.
Mind numbing. The only way to describe it. She didn’t know how long she could keep up the surveillance on Dr. Heinze before totally losing it and committing mass murder.
She’d been up since before sunrise, arriving at the doctor’s house and watching it until he’d left. She’d followed him to the hospital where she assumed he made morning rounds. She didn’t know because she’d stayed outside in the visitor lot with a view of his Lexus in the doctors’ lot.
After an hour and a half or so in the hospital, he’d returned to his car and she’d followed him to the McCready Foundation offices.
Was all this worth it? She had to wonder if this would ever pay off, if she’d ever see her baby. She could be wasting her time on a total wild-goose Wait. A silver Lexus pulled out of the parking garage, and Dr. Heinze was behind the wheel. Leaving early today. Maybe things were slow at the office. Maybe he had a golf game-no, wait… too cold for golf.
She followed him toward the east side. When he got in line for the Midtown Tunnel, she wanted to scream. She was so not in the mood for the LIE and another trip to Forest Hills. But she hung in, following him through the tunnel and onto the Long Island Expressway. But instead of turning off onto Woodhaven Boulevard like he had yesterday, he kept heading east.
And farther east.
Soon they were out of Queens and into Nassau County. And still he kept speeding east.
Dawn followed. This was something different. This could prove to be nothing, or might be the break she’d been waiting for.
2
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Jack said with all the gosharooty enthusiasm he could muster as he, Weezy, and the Lady cruised south on Route 206. “Let’s sing ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer’!”
He’d awakened early feeling pretty decent, considering what he’d gone through the night before. Maybe too decent. His bruises were already fading.
He’d tried to fall back to sleep but began imagining what he would have gone through if Drexler hadn’t gotten cold feet about the Change. The possibilities had made sleep impossible.
Later he’d rented a Jeep Cherokee for the Jersey trip and now had the wheel. Not the cushiest ride, but this one had a high suspension that would come in handy once they hit the Pine Barrens.
He thought about their destination, the pyramid. He still couldn’t imagine how that fifteen-foot construct of standing triangles with open spaces between them-he remembered Eddie describing it as half a dozen Godzilla pizza slices standing on end-could hide anyone from anything. But real life had been leaving his imagination in the dust lately, so why not?
“‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer’!” Weezy said with equal faux glee from the passenger seat. “My favorite! You take the first ten verses by yourself, and then the Lady and I will sing harmony on the rest.”
“I do not sing,” the Lady said from behind him.
Jack wasn’t sure why, but he was glad for that.
“Neither does Weezy,” he said.
Weezy looked offended. “You don’t know that.”
“You used to howl in the shower when you were staying with me.”
“I didn’t howl.”
“Caterwaul, then. Whatever it was, you can’t call it singing. And ‘Hungry Like the Wolf,’ of all things. What happened to Bauhaus?”
She reddened. “I had a closet crush on Simon le Bon.”
Jack checked his phone. No missed calls.
“You keep doing that,” Weezy said.
“I’m waiting to hear back from a couple, three charter boats I contacted.”
Earlier he’d made a few calls to fishing boats in the Coney Island area. No one had answered, so he’d left messages about chartering the boat for a day trip.
Weezy nodded. “Oh, right. Disposing of the katana. No responses?”
“March isn’t exactly charter fishing season. Gotta be colder than hell out there.”
“Obviously you left your number. We’ll be back by early afternoon.”
Back from Johnson… he hadn’t been back to Johnson since his father’s funeral, and that had been-what?-a year and a half or so ago. Dad and Mom were buried side by side.
Weezy turned in her seat. “I’ve got something serious to discuss.”
Jack said, “Uh-oh.”
“It’s about Eddie. He wants to join the fight.”
“Against what?”
She shrugged. “The Order, the Otherness, whatever we’re fighting.”
“Since when does he know about any of that?”
“Since yesterday when I spent half the day educating him.”
“And he’s convinced?”
She nodded. “Pretty much. It’s a lot to swallow, but the Compendium is an excellent persuader.”
Jack hesitated. He didn’t want to offend her. “Don’t take this wrong, but… what’s he bringing to the table?”
“A new way of looking at things, maybe?”
“Good enough.” He couldn’t see a downside. He turned to the Lady. “Any objection?”
She shook her head. “Not at all.”
Jack had to smile. “To tell the truth, I can’t wait to see his face when we seat him at a table with Mrs. Clevenger.”
Weezy laughed. “That makes two of us.”
They passed through Tabernacle and now farms lined the highway.
“Nothing changes much around here,” Weezy said. “I haven’t been back in forever and it’s like I never left.”
“Big change up ahead,” Jack said.
“What?”
“You remember the blinker at 206 and Quakerton Road?”
“Of course. Johnson didn’t rate a full stoplight.”
“It does now.”
And it was red when they reached it. As they waited to hang a left, Weezy pointed out the window.
“Look. The Krauszer’s is still here, and Burdett’s is now an Exxon.”
“Well, it is the twenty-first century.”
Joe Burdett had kept up his Esso sign for decades after the company changed its name. What had once been Sumter’s used-car lot was now a discount furniture store.
Quakerton Road split the north and south halves of Johnson and sported a couple of new stores. USED, where Jack had worked as a kid, was a mom-and-pop drugstore now. Mr. Rosen, his old boss, had died back in the 1990s. The bridge over Quaker Lake was wider but otherwise Old Town looked pretty much the same as it had when they were kids. The two-story stucco box of the Lodge remained unchanged.
“There’s your old place,” he said, swinging by the rickety Victorian house where the Lady had lived as Mrs. Clevenger during their childhoods.
“It needs painting,” she said.
Weezy stared at it as they passed. “We all thought you were a witch.”