The Dark at the End

by F. Paul Wilson

  "But Dawn is dead," Jack said.

  "True. But isn't it true that this guy, this One, placed Dawn across the hall from Weezy? Which would place the baby, when returned to Dawn, in proximity to Weezy and, by extension, to the Lady. " He pointed to the Lady, then to the baby. "If so, mission accomplished. "

  Weezy gave Jack a look. "Told you he'd bring a new perspective. "

  Jack glanced at the baby, then the Lady. "Jeez. " Then at Eddie. "High or low probability?"

  Eddie gave an uncomfortable shrug. "Wish I could say. I don't have enough data. "

  Weezy's mind whirled with all the possibilities and permutations of the situation. "I have to tell you, this is way confusing. "

  Glaeken said, "It is indeed. We don't know what the One's plans were for the baby, but Eddie, the Lady, and I came up with one of our own while you two were in conference. "

  Jack said, "What about my idea?"

  "It has merit. "

  He dropped into his chair. "Well, that's a start. "

  "But it has serious flaws as well. "

  "Like?"

  Glaeken leaned forward. "What if the anesthesia is just a tiny bit too light and you hear the name during the ceremony? Or what if your brain registers it and stores it even if your consciousness doesn't? What if you're wrong and you don't have to know the Other Name to allow Rasalom to 'hear' it within you? What if simply knowing you've been given his Other Name is enough?"

  "A lot of what-ifs," Jack said.

  "Then here's the ultimate what-if: If just one of those what-ifs is true, he will 'hear' the name within you. That means he will know where you are every minute of every day. You will never be able to surprise him again. But he will be able to surprise you. Knowing your whereabouts, he can bide his time, make his plans, and then strike when the time is right - for him. "

  Weezy could see that struck a nerve with Jack. The idea of someone knowing his whereabouts at all times was bad enough, but when that someone was Rasalom . . .

  She was tempted to speak, but bit it back. She'd promised . . .

  "You're our spear, Jack," Glaeken said. "I'd hate to think of you fitted with a locator. "

  Exactly.

  Jack looked at the Lady. "So you won't do the naming ceremony. "

  "Not on you. "

  "Then who?" Jack said. "Glaeken?"

  "That was a thought," the old man said. "I've got the least to lose, and if not for Magda, I wouldn't hesitate. But, even in her present state - or perhaps because of her present state - I can't desert my wife. "

  "Well, forget about Weezy," Jack said. "No way that's happening. "

  "No, not Weezy," Glaeken said. "Eddie volunteered - "

  "No!" Weezy cried, her heart constricting.

  He said, "I've lost my home, my business, and I've got no strings. I'm perfect, but - "

  "But we came up with a better candidate," Glaeken said. "There is one more in the room you might consider. "

  Weezy had a sudden bad feeling about what was coming next. She slowly turned and looked at the baby, gnawing contentedly on its bone.

  "Oh, no. You can't be serious. "

  MONDAY Chapter 3

  During the time the cow had cried hysterically over her fallen pet, Rasalom felt the strength pouring into him. Even when her vocalizations ratcheted down to quaking sobs, the grief that poured from her remained considerable.

  All for a dumb animal that was, in many other countries, considered an entree.

  "I'm terribly sorry for your loss," he said when she finally quieted.

  She only moaned.

  "My goodness," he said. "I hope it wasn't my fault. "

  Her head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, just before he died I gave him a piece of my turkey. "

  She sniffed. "You did?"

  "Yes. I hope it didn't cause a reaction or anything. He wasn't allergic to turkey, was he?"

  "No, he ate it all the time. " She was staring at him, although he knew he was just a blur to her. "That turkey was to help you regain your strength, yet you gave him some?"

  "Well, he seemed like such a sweet, loyal dog. "

  She began sobbing again.

  Good . . . good. Keep it up. More. Give me more.

  "I'm so happy that-that-that his last memory was of a stranger being kind to him. "

  His last memory? The cow was pathetic. That creature had been little more than a quadrupedal appetite.

  She broke down again, bending over the dog, placing her cheek against its back.

  As Rasalom drank, he lifted the blanket and examined his burns. Healing nicely now.

  He closed his eyes and sighed as he feasted. Too bad he couldn't bring the dog back to life - just for a few minutes, just long enough to let her believe her pet was back from the dead - and then stop its heart again.

  In his previous life he'd been so much more powerful. His very proximity could cause people to turn on each other, commit atrocities they would never dream of had he not entered their lives. He'd been able to make the dead move, walk, appear almost alive, even though they were not. But Glaeken had ended that life and Rasalom had been forced to wait until his rebirth to begin rebuilding his powers.

  He was not yet powerful enough to make this carcass move. He could end a life, make a life a living hell, but he couldn't restore a life. Never could. Dead was dead.

  At least until the Change. After that, who knew?

  MONDAY Chapter 4

  Weezy had jumped from her seat and gone to the playpen. After recovering from his shock at what Glaeken was suggesting, Jack rose and joined her. He realized he should not have been surprised. Glaeken had wanted the child removed from the picture.

  He put an arm around her shoulder as she stared down at the baby.

  "I know how you felt about Dawn," he said, "so I've a pretty good idea what you're thinking. "

  "Do you?" Her voice carried an edge. "Putting an infant in danger. Really?"

  "Listen. Yes, he's a baby, but that is why he will not be in danger: He's not sentient yet. With all that q'qr blood flowing through him, he will most likely never be sentient in the fully human sense. And that's the beauty part. The ceremony can be performed on him and he'll have no cognizance of it. If he's even listening during the ceremony, which I doubt, he'll hear that name then and never again. He'll certainly never be called by that name. He'll have no idea that it's even a name. He'll hear it as background noise, just as he's hearing this conversation. It won't register in his conscious or subconscious. He'll never even know he's been through a ceremony. "

  "And yet," the Lady said, raising a finger, "if what Srem says is true, once that infant has gone through the Naming Ceremony, he will render the One powerless. "

  Weezy turned to Jack. "What do you think?"

  He found he had no easy answer. And their decision here would have momentous impact.

  "Let me think out loud here. " He couldn't stand still so he wandered the room. "First off, am I right in saying the Lady won't perform the ceremony on anyone else?"

  The Lady nodded. "Correct. "

  "And it's also a fact that if something happens to the Lady, no one else can perform the ceremony?"

  He stopped and looked at Glaeken and the Lady. Both nodded.

  Moving again, he said, "Now, because we're on terra incognita here, we can't say it's a fact, but it seems a good bet that of everyone in this room, maybe even the world, this little guy here has the best chance of safely taking on Rasalom's Other Name. " He pointed to Eddie. "Actuarial opinion?"

  Eddie glanced at Weezy, then away. "Given the information at hand, true. "

  Jack turned to Weezy but said nothing. After a long pause, she gave a reluctant shrug. "I suppose so. "

  "So, if we do do it, Rasalom will no longer be the One, rendering him 'powerless' to start the Change. Not being the One might also rob him of some of his extra-human abilitie
s as well, making him easier to take down next time we get a crack at him. Realizing he's no longer the One has got to distract him, sending him searching for whoever else has his Other Name instead of plotting against the Lady. That search will bring him out in the open, making him an easier target. "

  Jack paused. He had to admit those were strong arguments.

  "Okay," he went on. "If we don't do it, it's business as usual for Rasalom: He's still the One and once he heals up he can go to ground and redouble his efforts against the Lady with no worries. " He looked Weezy in the eyes. "Considering what's at stake, the effect on billions of lives if Rasalom brings the Change, I don't see how we can not do it. "

  Jack watched her stare down at the baby as he scored the bone with his sharp little teeth. He thought of another child: Vicky. She was the child he cared about. And after what Jack had done to Rasalom the other night, he had no doubt that if or when he brought the Change, he'd reserve a special place in that particular hell for anyone Jack held dear.

  Rasalom had to be stopped.

  But he said nothing. He had to let Weezy work this through.

  "With so much at stake," she finally said, shaking her head, "how can I object?"

  He sighed. "Okay. It's settled then. That means we're looking at another trip to Johnson to find that sigil. "

  Her eyebrows rose. "Oh? Yesterday you refused to go. "

  "Yesterday we had no possible use for it. That's changed. "

  "Well, I'm set to go. I was getting ready to leave when you called. "

  "Alone?"

  "No. Eddie offered to go with me. "

  He turned to Eddie. "You don't have to now. "

  "No, I want to go," he said. "I haven't been back in a while. "

  Jack shrugged. "Well, the more the merrier, I guess. I'll throw some stuff together and we'll leave this afternoon. "

  He had a strange feeling that a circle was closing: the three of them back in Johnson, back in the Lodge. Like old times.

  Except the fate of the world hadn't hung in the balance then.

  MONDAY Chapter 5

  The cow had calmed herself somewhat, yet remained on the floor, kneeling next to her dead pet. Acceptance had lessened the flow of grief from a gushing cataract to a steady stream.

  Was it enough?

  He pulled off the blanket and pushed himself up. He straightened his knees and stood - swaying at first as the room rocked and tilted, but he quickly steadied himself.

  "Dear God!" she said. "What are you doing?"

  "I believe it's called 'standing. '"

  "But you don't have any clothes!"

  He looked down at his body. He had never understood modesty. He had no interest in cattle as sexual partners - he had other appetites - and felt no more embarrassment standing naked before her than would a shepherd before his flock. And even had he suffered from a modicum of modesty, she couldn't see much of him anyway.

  He was more interested in his wounds.

  He lightly touched the burns. No more oozing, and new pink skin was maturing in the open areas.

  "Sit yourself back down!" the cow said. "Before you fall down. "

  He ignored her and took a faltering step, and then another. The room swayed again, but he would not sit down. Not yet.

  "Go ahead," she said. "Fall on your face. See if I care. But you're not going to stand there naked as a jaybird. I'll get you some clothes. "

  Clothes? Did she expect him to wear one of her housedresses?

  She returned a moment later with green twill work pants and a flannel shirt.

  "These belonged to my husband. They're old and musty and they'll be big on you, but they're better'n what you got on now. Don't know why I kept them. Well, yes, I do. I just couldn't bring myself to throw them out. He had his own closet, you know, and I've just sort of left it like it was and. . . "

  Did this woman ever shut up?

  He took the shirt from her as she rattled on. The lack of his left hand caused minimal difficulty in slipping into it, but the buttons were an obstacle. Not insurmountable, however. He managed to button one single-handedly and was working on a second when the cow leaned in close.

  "Stop fooling with that and help me get you into these pants. Then we'll tend to your buttons. "

  He didn't want her helping him, but pants were going to be a problem with only one hand. Bracing himself on a table, he stepped into the legs and allowed her to pull them up and button them at his waist. Then she leaned close and began fastening his shirt buttons.

  He could see now that once he was back on the mainland and settled in a new abode, he would have to engage someone to dress him. What were they called? A valet? A man's man? Whatever, it was painfully clear that he could not manage this alone.

  He clenched his jaw at the indignity of it: the One needing help to dress himself.

  Whoever had done this - and he was increasingly certain that the Heir was responsible - had rendered him dependent. He might not understand modesty, but he understood dignity. And he had been robbed of his - or at least a portion of it.

  The Heir, the one called Jack, would pay. He would suffer. But those he loved would suffer first, and he would watch.

  Suffering . . . he sensed less of it here. The cow's grief had abated. His sudden ability to stand and her assumption of a caregiver role had distracted her from her loss.

  She needed a reminder.

  "There," she said, straightening as she finished the last button. "Now you're decent. "

  "Do you want me to help you with your dog?"

  "Oh, dear God. Rocky!" Sobbing, she turned and knelt beside the carcass again. "Oh, Wocky-wocks. I didn't forget about you. Honest, I didn't. "

  "Very sad," Rasalom said. "Has he been sickly?"

  "No!" she wailed. "The vet said he was in great shape. "

  "Well, I suppose it was God's will then. "

  "No, not God's will! It can't be. "

  Rasalom shrugged. "Don't they say, 'The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away'?"

  "No!" Her voice rose. "God is a giver of life, not a taker. Satan is a destroyer of life. This wasn't God's work, this was Satan's!" She pounded a fist on the floor. "Satan-Satan-Satan!"

  Anger mixed with the grief. Even better. He supped.

  Rasalom hid a smile. The Judeo-Christian myths personifying what the cattle perceived as "evil" were no closer to the truth than the rest of the world's religions. He knew the true wellspring of those myths.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes! Satan did this!"

  And so, in a way, she was right.

  MONDAY Chapter 6

 

  The sun was low over the bare, snow-covered cornfields and orchards by the time they reached Johnson.

  "At least Burlington County hasn't been paved over yet," Eddie said.

  He'd called shotgun - for old times' sake - and Jack drove. Weezy had been perfectly happy to have the backseat to herself and the Compendium.

  Eddie was exaggerating - plenty of green left, especially with the Pine Barrens sprawling to the east - but Jack got the point. An awful lot of strip malls lining these once pristine country roads.

  "Take it slow on Quakerton Road," Eddie said.

  "You mean Q'qr Town?" Weezy said.

  "What?"

  Jack smiled. "Long story. "

  Too long to tell.

  "Anyway," Eddie said, "I want to see what's changed. "

  So Jack did just that. Why not? They weren't in any big hurry. They'd see what was what at the Lodge and then find a place to spend the night. First thing tomorrow they'd get started on finding that sigil. If it was still to be found.

  They crossed the bridge over Quaker Lake - or was that Q'qr Lake? - into Old Town and turned toward the two-story stucco box of the Lodge. Jack was surprised to see a pair of pickup trucks parked in front.

  Weezy leaned forward over the back of the front seat
and thrust her head between them.

  "What's up? Remodeling, y'think?"

  Not good, Jack thought as he parked next to the pickups. He didn't want company.

  As the three of them walked through the snow toward the front door, Jack noticed how the place had gone to seed a little. Not quite rundown, but not as pristine as he remembered. The stucco showed small cracks here and there, the paint needed freshening, the grass was trimmed but the foundation plantings needed weeding.

  As ever, the Order's sigil hung over the pillared front entrance.

  Jack noticed something new that hadn't been apparent from a distance.

  "Check out the second-floor windows. "

  Weezy looked up and frowned. "Only the first floor used to be barred. Now the second?"

  Eddie said, "Why would they do that?"

  Jack couldn't tell if he was being facetious or not.

  "Because they were broken into?"

  Weezy smiled. "Could be . . . could be. "

  The trucks bothered Jack. Except for sporadic gatherings of the regional members, the Lodge typically remained vacant, often for weeks at a stretch. The only time in memory that anyone had lived there was when the white-suited Ernst Drexler and his assistant - whose name eluded Jack now - had moved in during a crisis involving the deaths of a number of the Order's local members . . . deaths precipitated by something Jack and Weezy had dug from a mound in the Pines.

  Jack had been counting on that emptiness, because they were going to need time - maybe lots of it - alone in the building if they were to find the sigil.

  He knocked and turned to Weezy as they waited.

  "Remember the first time we knocked on this door?"

  She nodded. "We were looking for help for that lost guy we found in the Pines. "

  That was the day he first met Ernst Drexler. He'd been fourteen and Drexler an adult. The dynamics of their first meeting had been dramatically different from their last.

  No answer, so he knocked again. Still no response so he turned to Eddie.

  "What's the secret password?"

  Eddie blinked. "What?"

  "That opens the door. You're a member of the Order. We expect you to know these things. Right, Weez?"

  "Absolutely. " She grinned and nudged her brother. "'Open, Septimus,' or something like that, right?"

  Eddie wasn't smiling as he shook his head. "What an idiot I was . . . a few weeks ago that might have been funny. But now . . . now I realize how little I knew about them. "