There was silence in the cab of the panel truck when he finished his story. He glanced over to Gia and Abe. Both were staring at him, their expressions alarmed, their eyes wary.
"I don't blame you," he said. "That's just the way I'd look at somebody who told me what I just told you But I've been in that ship. I've seen. I'm stuck with it."
Still they said nothing.
And I didn't even tell them about the necklace.
"It's true, damn it!" he shouted. He pulled the Mother's scorched fangs and talons from his pocket and pressed them into Gia's hand. "Here's all that's left of one."
Gia passed them over to Abe without even looking at them. "Why shouldn't I believe you? Vicky was taken through a window twelve stories up!" She clutched at Jack's arm. "But what does he want with them?"
Jack swallowed spasmodically, unable to speak for a moment. Vicky's dead! How could he possibly tell her that?
"I—I don't know," he said finally, his vast experience as a liar standing him in good stead. "But I'm going to find out."
And then there was no more island left—they were at Battery Park, the southern tip of Manhattan. Jack sped along the east side of the park and screeched to the right around a curve at its end. Without slowing, he plowed through a cyclone gate and hurtled across the sand toward the water.
"My truck!" Abe yelled.
"Sorry! I'll get it fixed for you."
Gia let out a yelp as Jack swerved to a stop in the sand. He leaped out and ran to the bulkhead.
Upper New York Bay spread out before him. A gentle breeze fanned his face. Due south, directly ahead, lay the trees and buildings of Governor's Island. To the left, across the mouth of the East River, sat Brooklyn. And far off to the right, toward New Jersey, on her own island, stood Lady Liberty with her blazing torch held high. The bay was deserted —no pleasure boats, no Staten Island Ferries, no Circle Line cruisers. Nothing but a dark wasteland of water. Jack fumbled the binoculars out of the case slung around his neck and scanned the bay.
He's out there—he's got to be!
Yet the surface of the bay was lifeless—no movement, no sound but the lapping of the water against the bulkhead. His hands began to tremble as he raked the glasses back and forth over the water.
He's here! He can't get away!
And then he found a ship—directly between him and Governor's Island. On previous passes he had confused its running lights with the lights on the buildings behind it. But this time he caught the glint of the setting moon off its aft superstructure. An adjustment of the glasses brought the long deck into focus. When he saw the single kingpost and its four cranes amidships, he was sure he had her.
"That's it!" he shouted and handed the glasses to Gia. She took them from him with a bewildered look on her face.
He ran to the back of the truck and dragged out the raft. Abe helped him unbox it and activate the CO2 cartridges. As the flat oval of yellow rubber began to inflate and take shape, Jack slipped into the harness of the flamethrower. His back bothered him hardly at all. He carried the box of incendiary bombs to the bulkhead and checked to make sure he had his variable frequency beeper. He noticed Gia watching him intently.
"Are you okay, Jack?"
In her eyes he thought he detected a hint of the warm feelings she once had for him, but there was doubt there, too.
Here it comes. She means, 'Are you all right in the head?'
"No, I'm not okay. I won't be okay until I'm through with what I've got to do out there on that ship."
"Are you sure about this? Is Vicky really out there?"
Yes. She's out there. But she's dead. Eaten by— Jack fought the urge to burst our crying.
"Positive."
"Then let's call the Coast Guard or—"
"No!" He couldn't allow that! This was his fight and he was going to do it his way! Like lightning looking for a ground, the rage, the grief, the hatred balled up inside him had to find a target. If he didn't settle this personally with Kusum, it would destroy him. "Don't call anyone. Kusum has diplomatic immunity. Nobody who plays by the rules can get to him. Just leave this to me!"
Gia shrank from him and he realized he was shouting. Abe was standing by the truck with the oars in his hands, staring at him. He must sound crazy. He was close to the edge… so close to the edge… had to hold on just a little longer…
He pulled the now inflated boat to the edge and pushed it over the side into the water. He sat on the bulkhead and held the boat in position with his feet while he lowered the crate of incendiary bombs into it. Abe brought the oars over and handed them to him. Jack settled himself into the boat and looked up at his best friend and the woman he loved.
"I want to come with you!" Gia said.
Jack shook his head. That was impossible.
"She's my daughter—I have the right!"
He pushed away from the bulkhead. Leaving the land was like cutting a bond with Gia and Abe. He felt very alone at that moment.
"See you soon," was all he could say.
He began to row out into the bay, keeping his eyes fixed on Gia, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure he stayed on course toward the black hull of Kusum's ship. The thought that he might be going to his death occurred to him but he let it pass. He would not admit the possibility of defeat until he had done what he had to do. He would set the bombs first, leaving enough time to find Kusum and settle up personally, he did not want Kusum to die in the blink, indiscriminate, anonymous fury of an incendiary explosion. Kusum must know the agent of his death… and why.
And then what would Jack do? How could he go back to Gia and say those words: Vicky is dead. How? Almost better to be demolished with the boat.
The pace of his oars increased as he let the rage mushroom out, smothering his grief, his concern for Gia, consuming him, taking him over. The universe constricted, focused down to this small patch of water, where the only inhabitants were Kusum, his rakoshi, and Jack.
27
"I'm so scared!" Gia said as she watched Jack and his rubber boat melt into the darkness. She was cold despite the warmth of the night.
"So am I," Abe said, throwing a heavy arm over her trembling shoulders.
"Can this be true? I mean, Vicky is missing and I'm standing here watching Jack row out to a boat to take her back from an Indian madman and a bunch of monsters from Indian folk tales." Her words began to break around sobs that she could not control. "My God, Abe! This can't really be happening!"
Abe tightened his arm around her, but she took scant comfort from the gesture. "It is, kid. It is. But as to what's in that ship, who can say? And that's what got me shook. Either Jack has gone stark raving mad—and comforting it's not to think of a man that lethal being insane—or he's mentally sound and there actually are such things as the monsters he described. I don't know which frightens me more."
Gia said nothing. She was too occupied with the fear that clawed ferociously at the walls of her brain: fear that she would never see Vicky again. She fought that fear, knowing if she let it through and truly faced the possibility that Vicky might be gone forever, she would die.
"But I'll tell you this," Abe went on. "If your daughter is out there, and if it's humanly possible to bring her back, Jack will do it. Perhaps he's the only man alive who can." If that was supposed to comfort Gia, it failed.
28
Vicky sat alone in the dark, shivering in her torn, wet nighty. It was cold in here. The floor was slimy against her bare feet and the air stank so bad it made her want to throw up. She was utterly miserable. She had never liked to be alone in the dark, but this time alone was better than with one of those monsters.
She had just about cried herself out since her arrival on the ship. There weren't any more tears left. Hope had grown within her when the monster had climbed up the ship's anchor chain, carrying her with it. It hadn't hurt her yet—maybe it just wanted to show her the boat.