Amid the confusion, a number of voices cried, “No!”
“No? Not even if it means committing ourselves fully to an attack against entrenched human beings-not just demons?”
A smaller number, harder to hear over the growing opposition: “No!”
“Then that is what I propose we do!”
The majority turned against him, roaring their displeasure. Dixon shouted them down: “Not just because I believe we have superior firepower and the Lord on our side, but because we have reason to believe that this other group has already invaded our lines and is engaged in a campaign of spying and subversion!”
Now any stray sounds of protest were buried in an avalanche of gung ho fury. Dixon bellowed, “I’m speaking of the disappearances! I am speaking of the mysterious thefts and sabotage! This may be the Enemy we have been waiting for-the secular army of Satan! Yes, we must engage them, not to destroy them but to save their souls! And once we have conquered them, we will add their arms to our Lord’s arsenal. At long last we will be able to put an end to the corruption of our land by socialists and subversives and the so-called liberal elite! At long last we will avenge the victims of Waco and Ruby Ridge and Oklahoma City and 9/11-all precursors to the ultimate atrocity of Agent X! It’s time to end the terror, once and for all! It’s time to send a message to Mecca and Moscow and Washington, DC! Hallelujah! Thank you, Adam! Amen!”
Standing on the sidelines, James Sandoval raised his hands, and the crowd immediately fell silent, urgently shushing each other. Voices whispered, “Let the Prophet speak!”
In a soft voice, he said, “Greetings, my friends. So nice to see you all here. I would like to welcome the new recruits among you, but first I must make a special announcement. This is important.” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I blame myself for this, for allowing things to go so far. It shouldn’t have happened; I’m sorry. Chace, I apologize to you most of all, since I obviously should have been more clear with you from the beginning. I wasn’t, and now I have no choice but to do this in front of all these good folks. Here it is:
“There will be no crusade against our fellow man. Not happening. Not now, not next week or next year, not ever. That’s not what we’re here for. Chace, these people don’t need an Ayatollah, they need a Gandhi, and you’re not it. You’re not even close. I only wish I could have prevented you from burning all those poor women. Believe me, I’m sorry as hell about that-the thought of it makes me physically sick. But I failed them, I failed you, and most of all I failed God… and for my sins I died. But the Lord gave me a second chance. He raised me from the dead, and He said, ‘Hold on a minute, Jim. I have a job for you.’ That doesn’t make me Jesus, and it doesn’t make you the Pope, okay? You’re just a guy who used to work for me, but now you’re fired. You understand? You’re fired.”
Before Sandoval even finished speaking, Chace yelled, “I don’t have to listen to this! You wouldn’t even be alive if not for me! You’d still be a half-frozen Xombie up in fucking Canada! You’re no prophet! You don’t speak for Adam; I don’t think you even believe in Him! I renounce you!” To the crowd, he shouted, “Attention everyone! This man has just revealed himself as a false prophet, a phony! He must be one of them! Yes, he is a spy, sent to infiltrate and corrupt us! Do not believe him! Do not obey him!”
The assembly dissolved into a riot of accusations and counteraccusations. The extremists of both sides wanted to fight it out then and there, but since most of the troops weren’t sure which side they were on, the brawl was postponed. Dixon and Sandoval stormed from the field, followed by their core supporters. Dixon had clearly gained a few.
Todd, Ray, and the other disciples were dismissed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
COUP
“Jesus, that was scary,” Ray said. “I think I pissed my pants.”
“Did you?” Todd asked.
“No. But I would kill for a shower.”
Hours had passed since the big schism, and still there were no arrests, no statements from either the Prophet or the Apostle, no fallout of any kind. The whole complex seemed to be holding its breath.
After finishing their cleaning duties at the hotel, Todd and Ray crossed the glass Skybridge to the mall. Below the bridge, they could see long rows of abandoned Humvees and other military vehicles leading up and down the highway ramps. Roads were impassable now, but across the field was the Amtrak station, with very irregular service to Boston and points north. Nothing was better for morale than the sound of a train whistle-it was an advertisement for civilization. Like Todd and Ray, many of the men had been lured in by that sound.
The mall was even busier than the hotel, full of holy warriors eating, sleeping, and doing religious devotions. It smelled like a school cafeteria. Men were gathered at the mall’s central atrium, an oval space rising two floors to the ceiling skylights. A bank of windows overlooked Water-place Park, formerly a summertime attraction with gondolas and mimes, now a debris-choked concrete pond. To the far left was the fenced field below the State House-the women’s camp. Men crowded the windows as if watching a show.
Ascending to the Food Court on the top floor, Todd and Ray sat down to a dinner of “stew”-what the cooks called stew. It was a lot of random canned things poured into a pot and heated together-in this case tomatoes, green beans, beets, tuna fish, and hominy. It actually wasn’t that terrible, but Ray had no appetite.
As they finished and prepared to leave, they were joined by Captain Barnstable, who took them aside, and said, “I have a message for you guys.” He looked shaken and preoccupied. As if coming to a difficult decision, he asked, “Did you say you talked to Elvis?”
The boys were wary. Todd said, “We haven’t seen him lately, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Barnstable leaned close and palmed Ray a folded square of toilet paper, “This is from the Prophet to all of us. He asked me to show it to you. I suppose that must mean he thinks you can be trusted.”
“How do we know you can?”
“Just read it, then eat it.” Barnstable walked away.
The note read:
This is Jim Sandoval, your Prophet. An assassination attempt has been made on my life, and I have reluctantly accepted an offer of sanctuary by the Evians. They do this in full knowledge that it is a breach of their inviolate status, but know it is imperative that we prevent Chace Dixon and his followers from committing a heinous crime in the name of our Lord Adam. As most of you already know, Dixon intends to wage war on the innocent human beings at our nation’s capital. What you may not know is that he has a nuclear missile at his disposal and is gathering a trainload of other heavy weapons. That train is being outfitted as a war machine, an engine of destruction, and within days or weeks, it will begin its terrible journey south. We must not allow this. I hereby authorize any and all resistance against Chace Dixon and his supporters.
“What the hell, man,” Todd said despondently. “Figures we’d find ourselves in the middle of a fuckin’ jihad.” He noticed the intensity of Ray’s expression, and said, “Don’t sweat it so hard, man. This shit has nothing to do with us.”
“Todd, I’ve gotta try and break Sandoval out of there.”
“Huh?”
“You know how I called him ‘uncle’ before? Well, the truth is, he’s been more like a father to me. He took me and my sister in when we had no place else to go, and he’s the only family I have left now.”
“Are we talking about the same guy here? This is Chairman Sandoval.”
“Yes.”
“How come you never told me about this?”
“I never told anyone. He swore me to secrecy so I’d be allowed on board the boat with the rest of you. Truth is, I was too messed up after the death of my sister to talk much about anything. But if it weren’t for Uncle Jim, I would’ve never known about the sub. He saved my life. I have to at least try to return the favor. But I’ll understand if you don’t want to take the risk.”
Todd was of
fended. “Screw you, man. Of course I’m going to help you, that’s not the issue. Do you even have any idea what you’re going to do?”
“No. But I’m thinking we need to create some kind of diversion, like what happened with the Reapers. Then, in all the confusion, I sneak into the women’s camp and smuggle Jim out.”
“Assuming he even wants to go. We don’t know what he’s got going on in there. We could get ourselves into deep shit for nothing.”
Ray nodded. “No, you’re right. I really need to talk to him first.”
“Oh, is that all? And just how, exactly, do you plan on getting in there?”
“Maybe I’ll dress up as a woman.”
“Yeah.” Todd looked him over skeptically. “Good luck with that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RAY AND BRENDA
When Agent X hit, Ray Despineau and his big sister, Brenda, were on the road.
It was midnight, New Year’s Eve, and Brenda had a splitting headache. They had been trapped in traffic for more than nine hours, all routes south inexplicably blocked by police and armed troops. Through sheer gall, their driver had managed to bully his way to an off-ramp, but the situation was no better on the streets below. They should have been at the plant by nightfall; Uncle Jim would not be pleased.
“Happy fucking New Year,” muttered their burly limo driver, Apollo, knowing the axe would fall heaviest on him. He was desperate for a toilet break but was punishing himself with the discomfort. His passengers had overcome their own aversion to peeing in plastic cups from the minibar and dumping it out the windows.
“It’s okay, Apollo,” Brenda said. “It’s not your fault. There was no way of knowing the roads would be blocked off like this.”
“I knew we shoulda had a police escort, a big official motorcade. But the bastards wouldn’t give it to us, and now I see why: They were all pulling fucking traffic duty. God-damn flagmen. This is bullshit.”
Suddenly, everything went crazy: a lunatic orchestra of car horns, sirens, alarms, people screaming and yelling- and gunfire. The amount of racket was astounding even for midnight on New Year’s Eve. But very quickly, Ray, Brenda, and Apollo knew something else was going on.
Car crashes! Ray could hear a ridiculous smashing and screeching of tires up on I-95, just a never-ending pileup, hundreds of cars in a row-crash, boom, bash! Their own car was underneath the highway, near the I-195 interchange, so this was all happening right over their heads. Glass rained down, and Ray could see fires up there and hear bloodcurdling screams… and then people started falling! Just jumping over the highway barrier and slamming into the street below like sacks of potatoes.
Drivers started pouring out of their cars, wondering what the hell was going on. Cops screamed at them to get back inside their vehicles. Others just went crazy, hitting the gas and crashing into the traffic around them, like mad bumper cars. As Ray watched, an ambulance swerved into the opposing lane, busted through the line of cars, flew off the road, and hit a freeway pylon-kabam!
All this was bad enough, but what freaked him out the most was when everybody started fighting all of a sudden. Wherever he looked, there were these weird struggles going on: people trying to either kill or kiss one another-it was hard to tell which. But in either case, they were going at it like crazed wildcats, men and women both.
Some of them-a lot of them-looked oddly blue. Blue women ran in from all over, jumping out of cars, tearing their clothes off, and running naked down the road. They all had the same freaky black eyes, shark eyes, and they just swept in from out of nowhere like sharks joining a great big feeding frenzy. Only instead of eating you, they… kissed you. Kissed you and killed you and sucked the living breath right out of your body. Then you came back as one of them.
Ray saw it happening more and more, everywhere he looked. Clothes were shredded; blood was shed, blood both red and black. But one after another, the normal folk were taken down, even the toughest-looking dudes turning into two-legged blue sharks, adding their fevered lust to the frenzy. Crazy was winning, the night overthrown by eye-popping, blue-in-the-face, hysterical lunacy.
The horrible spectacle was not lost on Apollo. He said, “Belt yourselves in and hold tight.”
“What are you doing?” Brenda asked.
“Getting us the fuck out of here.” He shifted into reverse and stomped on the gas.
The limo was a customized 4x4 Escalade, armor-plated and with bulletproof windows and tires that wouldn’t go flat even with big holes in them. Apollo drove it like a bat out of Hell even in normal circumstances-he was a retired Secret Service agent, picking up extra change providing personal security for Sandoval’s “family”-so all at once, they were plowing clear of the mess, making a U-turn, and flying around car wrecks and fight scenes like a star quarterback running for a touchdown. The northbound lane was much less congested, but now they were going in the wrong direction, heading back into the city. A number of other cars were right behind them, piggybacking on the SUV’s momentum.
“Stop!” Brenda shouted. “Where are we going?”
“Sorry, Miss Despineau, but I’m taking you two back home, if we can even make it. It’s the safest place right now. I’m sure Mr. Sandoval would agree.”
Just ahead, Ray could see the lights and big, reassuring office towers of downtown Providence. All that still looked so normal he started to let himself collapse, flipping out from the horrible things he had just witnessed… until they started getting closer. Then he could see the smoke and hear the noise, even with the windows rolled up.
Oh God… oh no, please…
Downtown Providence was a living Hell. All the unfortunate people who had come downtown to join the First Night celebration were discovering it was their Last Night, or in most cases their Last Minute. They were everywhere, running or being chased, and wherever Ray looked, the blue freaks were gaining.
Right away it was obvious that the limo was not getting anywhere near their high-rise condo complex because the main intersection was jammed with all kinds of police and emergency vehicles. But there weren’t too many cops around-just lots of Ex-cops. People kept jumping on the car and beating on the windows, and Apollo kept having to swerve around or speed up and hit the brakes to throw them off. It was making Ray nauseous. Apollo also ran over a few folks, which really pushed Ray over the edge because he couldn’t even run over a squirrel without feeling bad about it.
So Ray was screaming, “Stop! Stop!” and Brenda was babbling, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and everybody all around them was going nuts, but Apollo… Apollo was a damn rock. He knew exactly where he was going and soon found a little alleyway straight into the city.
The streets were surprisingly empty inside, which was maybe not so surprising since it was a holiday and all the offices were closed, but now Apollo could really hit it, and before Ray knew what was happening, they were shooting down a ramp into Sandoval’s underground parking garage. The big steel gate came down like a medieval portcullis.
“Awesome,” Ray moaned.
At least they were safe for the moment. Riverdale Residences was a high-security building for a very exclusive clientele. Nobody could get in or out without an electronic passkey, and each unit had its own private floor and key code. No solicitors.
Brenda threw her BlackBerry down, and cried, “It’s dead! Everything’s dead! I can’t stay here! Darryl is probably freaking out-I have to go get him!” Darryl was Brenda’s miniature schnauzer. She had dropped him at the kennel earlier that morning.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare go anywhere,” Ray said.
“I have to! I have to get Darryl!”
“Everybody calm down,” Apollo commanded. “Let’s don’t get ahead of ourselves.”
Modulating his voice, Ray said, “Brenda, Darryl would want you to be safe, wouldn’t he? It doesn’t do him any good to have you rush out there and get yourself killed.”
“It’s staying here in this zoo that’s going to get us all killed! We need
to get out of here!”
Apollo said, “No, this is the safest place to be until help arrives. This building is like a bank vault, and we have everything we need for now. Whatever’s happening out there will probably take care of itself by morning. We just have to sit tight.”
They sat… and listened.
All night long, they heard sounds of war: glass breaking, shooting, screams, car alarms, explosions. They smelled gun smoke, burnt rubber, burning gasoline, and burning flesh. TV and radio provided only loose scraps of bad news, worse news, and finally no news. All they had to do was look out the window to see the world coming apart at the seams: towers of smoke and raging fires all over the city.
“Oh my God,” Brenda said, shutting the curtains against the horror. “Oh my God, there’s no chance. There’s just no chance. What are we going to do?”
“Whatever we have to,” said Apollo. “For now, all we can do is wait.”
“Wait for what? For those things to crawl in here and get us in our sleep?”
“No. They can’t get in here. This building is hermetically sealed. It’s allergy-proof, hurricane-proof, and crime-proof. It’s designed for paranoid corporate hotshots like your uncle. Trust me, the security is total. I helped set it up.”
By dawn, things went quiet. Except for an occasional spasm of violence, the odd scream or shooting, there was very little that broke the peace for the next few days. But there was no escape either-blue people were everywhere.
“We have to get out of here,” Brenda wearily persisted.
Ray wasn’t ready to quit. After the initial shock had passed, he found a deep reserve of stone-cold determination. He hadn’t survived this long just to give in to the blues.
Apollo said, “There’s food for another week, maybe two if we ration it out. That’s enough time for this whole thing to blow over. There must be people in charge who are working on this problem. We just have to give them time to do it.”
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