Ground Zero Part 56

He gave the One a questioning look, but his attention was fixed on Darryl.

When Darryl reached the wrought-iron stairs, he hesitated.

Hank started forward. "Looks like he needs-"

Drexler thrust out an arm. "Don't touch. No contact. It's in the Lore."

"But-"

"Remember what happened to your coffee cup."

He remembered. Yeah, maybe a good idea to give Darryl some s.p.a.ce.

He watched Darryl reach out and grasp the railing. Smoke rose from where his hand touched the wrought iron. He looked at it curiously, then released the railing and stared at his hand. Hank gasped when he saw that the iron he had touched was gone.

Darryl's gaze moved from his hand to the gap in the railing, then he started up, leaving a puff of smoke and a gap everywhere he touched.

Hank stood frozen, his tongue a sandbox. "Am I seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yes, Mister Thompson," Drexler said. His eyes were bright, his lips parted with excitement. He looked ready to explode. "The Fhinntmanchca Fhinntmanchca does not mix well with this world." does not mix well with this world."

"Where's he going?"

"Only the Fhinntmanchca Fhinntmanchca knows." He glanced over his shoulder. "And of course the One." knows." He glanced over his shoulder. "And of course the One."

The One stood statue still, staring after Darryl, and smiling.

Drexler cleared his throat. "Sir, may we ask-?"

"You may," the One said without looking at him. "But if you wish an answer, you will have to follow him and find out for yourselves."

Drexler turned to Hank. "Then that is just what we will do."

Hank jerked a thumb toward the One, who hadn't moved. "He coming?"

"We need not worry about him. Come."

Hank followed him to the staircase. He waited as Drexler ascended ahead of him and checked out the gaps in the handrail. The iron appeared to have melted away but without leaving any slag. The free ends looked like they'd been cut with an acetylene torch. He gave one a quick touch but found it cool.

The damage to the handrails seemed to have destabilized the staircase because it wobbled as Drexler climbed. Once he was off, Hank hurried up after him. He glanced back and saw the One still standing by the shrunken Orsa.

When he reached the top and stepped out of the closet, he tapped Drexler's shoulder.

"Hey, how come the metal dissolved when he touched it, but his clothes are okay?"

Drexler shrugged. "I would a.s.sume because the clothes came through the Orsa with him."

Made sense.

Darryl had walked out into the main room of the bas.e.m.e.nt. As they started after him, Hank heard a voice shout Darryl's name. He recognized it and heard trouble in the tone.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Ansari said. "Not only do you look like s.h.i.t, but what the f.u.c.k you doing here?"

Hank pushed past Drexler and found Ansari confronting Darryl.

"Mother."

Ansari's eyes blazed. "What you call me?"

He gave Darryl a two-handed shove to the chest. Darryl swayed, but Ansari wound up staggering back instead. His face purpling, he raised a meaty fist.

Hank shouted, "Hold it!" but not in time.

Ansari swung. His fist rammed forward, smashing against Darryl's undefended jaw- -and dissolved in a cloud of red smoke.

Hank skidded to a halt as he watched Ansari stumble back, clutching his wrist and staring at the place where his hand had been. No blood sprayed the air-the stump was blackened, cauterized.

As Ansari screamed in pain and horror, Hagaman rushed up behind him, shouting, "What the f.u.c.k you do, a.s.shole?"

"Mother."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n!"

He bent and charged, as if to tackle, but Darryl put out a hand that caught Hagaman's arm above the elbow. Another scream, another spray of red smoke, and Hagaman spun and dropped to the floor-right next to his forearm. He writhed in agony as he clutched the stump of his arm.

Panic erupted as the other men in the room fell over each other in a headlong rush to get away from him. Darryl began to move toward them as they bunched up at the door.

"Mother."

"Get out of his way!" Hank shouted.

But either they didn't hear or were too panicked to understand.

Darryl reached them and put out his hands to push them aside. The result was more screams and more red smoke at they lurched away with chunks burned out of their backs and shoulders.

With the doorway cleared, Darryl stepped through and headed upstairs. Hank and Drexler followed to the first floor. Word must have spread because everyone was pressed against the wall, staring in fear and wonder as Darryl walked toward the front entrance.

"The doors!" Drexler said.

He scooted ahead and opened one of the heavy oak doors, holding it for Darryl until he pa.s.sed.

Darryl halted at the bottom of the steps and turned in a slow circle. He stopped, facing uptown.

"Mother."

He turned and began walking up toward Allen Street.

"Any idea where he's going?" Hank said.

Drexler shook his head. "No. But I believe the One does."

"The One ... is he even human?"

"Yes, but something more."

Hank had figured that. "Can he be killed?"

Drexler gave him a sharp look. "Don't even think-"

"I'm not thinking anything." True. The question had popped out seemingly on its own. "Just wondering."

"Well, then, the answer is yes. But not by any such as us."

"Who then?"

"Another ... like him."

"You mean there's two two of him?" of him?"

If so, he wouldn't really be the One One.

"Not exactly. The two are mortal enemies. And that is all I can say on the subject."

"I need more. Is the One going to be the head honcho after the cosmic s.h.i.t hits the cosmic fan?"

Drexler's lips pursed. "You have such a way with words, Mister Thompson."

"You know what I'm saying."

"Yes, I do. And yes, once he defeats his counterpart, the Yang to his Yin, he will be the Lord and Master of this sphere." He glanced at Hank. "Don't tell me you had illusions of-"

"Hey, no way. You crazy?" But he had. He'd thought that with his Kickers at his back ... "But we-you and me, that is-we're going to get to wet our beaks, right?"

He nodded. "When the Change comes, you and I will have places beside the One."

Well, that would have to do. Probably be fine. Just like Daddy promised-he and Jerry would be princes when the Others returned. Too bad Jerry wasn't around to join in.

Drexler pointed at Darryl's retreating figure. "We don't want him getting too far ahead."

As they began walking, Hank thought about how reality had begun doing slow cartwheels since his first dream about the stick figure known as the Kicker Man, becoming increasingly surreal until blossoming into the complete and total insanity of this past week.

Darryl ... f.u.c.king Darryl, of all people ... the Fhinntmanchca Fhinntmanchca ... the Maker of the Way ... dissolving everything he touched. It was all going down, just as his daddy had said. In fact, it might be all going down today, and he was right here in the heart of it. ... the Maker of the Way ... dissolving everything he touched. It was all going down, just as his daddy had said. In fact, it might be all going down today, and he was right here in the heart of it.

Hank's pulse raced-he felt cranked and scared. Made him want to pee, but he kept walking.

9.

The man who was more than a man, who was known as the One to many, and as Rasalom to a few, who had numerous names, the most important known only to him, stood on the roof of the Lodge and waited.

In an hour or so, perhaps more, it would happen. He would know when it did. He would feel it.

And so would someone else.

You're nearby, Glaeken. I know it. When it happens you'll feel it and you'll know my time has come. And you'll be afraid.

Though difficult to imagine Glaeken afraid, Rasalom relished the thought. Glaeken would have good cause for fear when the Lady was gone. For the beacon would be turned off, the Enemy would abandon this sphere as lifeless and worthless, and Glaeken would be on his own.

What would that mean? Would he lose his power-his resilience, his immortality? Would he become just another mortal?

Wouldn't that be delicious.

You will pay for what you have made me suffer down these millennia. You imprisoned me, you even thought you'd slain me, but always I found a way back. And this time you you will die, long after you wish to, and you will find no way back. will die, long after you wish to, and you will find no way back.

Rasalom's only regret was that success today would mean forgoing his vengeance on the transgressor. Slowly destroying that man's soul a second time would have been pure bliss. But he couldn't have everything. He'd see the man suffer like everyone else, but that universal fate lacked the elan of what he'd been planning.

Prepare yourself, Glaeken. The end begins today.

10.

The man who once had been more than a man, who was known as Mr. Veilleur to many, and as Glaeken to a few, who had had numerous names, stood at his window and stared out at the Sheep Meadow.

Far below, light traffic cruised Central Park West. A quiet, peaceful, sunny, summer Sunday morning in New York.

Why then was he so filled with dread?

The Fhinntmanchca Fhinntmanchca ... it could be only that. The Order, or perhaps Rasalom himself, had succeeded in bringing it into being. ... it could be only that. The Order, or perhaps Rasalom himself, had succeeded in bringing it into being.

And that meant ... what?

He wished he knew. Perhaps then he might be able to head it off. But its purpose had always been a mystery.

He could only wait and see. But he felt something awful coming, something cataclysmic.