F. Paul Wilson - Nightworld

"Be my guest. You have the wavelength written down?"

"Yeah. Got the shortwave set on it. I'll be listening at seven a.m. and seven p.m. Don't forget to call in."

"Don't worry."

"Which way you heading out? The Lincoln?"

Abe nodded. "From what you say, the quicker we get out, the better."

"You know it. You carrying?"

Abe patted the heavy lump in the right side pocket of his jacket. "Of course."

"Good. But maybe I'll tail you down to the entrance anyway—just in case."

"You don't think I can protect your women?" he said huffily.

"I wouldn't be sending them off with you if I wasn't sure of that."

They stared at each other in silence a few seconds.

"Seems like we should say something here," Abe said. "'I mean, two old friends at the end of the world. One of us should be able to come up with something meaningful."

"You're the guy with all the education. You do the honors."

Abe looked down, then smiled and thrust out his hand.

"See you soon, Jack."

Jack smiled as they shook hands. That just about said it all.

"Enough of this stuff," Jack said. "Get in the driver seat and I'll say my goodbyes to the ladies."

After a big hug from Vicky, Jack held Gia in his arms.

"Be careful, Jack," she whispered in his ear. "And thanks."

"For what?"

"For making us get out of town. I think you were right. The city's turning ugly. But you watch out."

He grinned. "Hell, I'm uglier than any city you can name."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about her."

"Oh."

He'd told Gia last night about how he was going to try to find Kolabati and get her necklaces for Glaeken. Gia knew a few things about Kolabati, but Jack had never quite got around to telling her that they'd been lovers for a brief time.

"Don't give me 'oh.' You got involved with her before and it almost killed you."

"That was my choice."

"She left you to die, Jack. This time she might finish the job."

"This time is different. I know what she is. I'll be careful. I've got a lot to come back for."

She kissed him one last time, long and deep, then she got back into the front seat of Abe's idling truck. Jack hurried back to his Corvair. He followed Abe over to West End and followed that downtown.

Along the way, the lights were against them. They'd gone out of synch for some reason and Abe stopped at every red. Jack knew why. He probably had enough weaponry in the back to overthrow a banana republic. He didn't want to get stopped and searched.

It happened at about where West End starts calling itself Eleventh Avenue. As Abe pulled to a stop at yet another red light, three guys leapt from a doorway and charged the truck, two running around to the driver side, one leaping up and reaching in the passenger window.

One of the guys on the left had a big hunting knife and the other had a lead pipe. As Abe tried to pull away the second guy began beating on Abe's window. Jack was already accelerating when the glass shattered and the guy started swinging the pipe at Abe.

The guy with the knife spotted Jack coming. He leapt out of the way as Jack sideswiped the truck, catching the pipe swinger hard in the backs of both calves. As he was spun and twisted between the two vehicles and tumbled to the pavement, screaming with the agony of two broken legs, Jack swerved at the guy with the knife and caught him head on with the Corvair's nose. But the car wasn't moving fast enough then to knock him sprawling. Instead he rolled up and over the hood and windshield and landed on the canvas top. He had to be hurt but he wasn't out of action yet. He rammed his knife through one of the slits and stabbed blindly at Jack. Jack ducked and grabbed the swinging wrist. He wrenched the knife free, and paused, wondering what to do. Then he heard Vicky scream.

Jack turned the guy's wrist and rammed the blade—honed side down—through the belly of the forearm, sliding it between the two bones and out the other side. Above on the roof the guy howled and flopped about and tried to pull his arm out. But the protruding edges of the point and grip caught on the sides of the slit, forcing the cutting edge of the blade to slice further down his arm. The guy screamed now.

Jack jumped out of the car and saw Abe holding his bloody scalp with his left hand, a .45 automatic in his right, and leaning toward the passenger door. Vicky was next to him, crying, but Gia was nowhere in sight and the passenger door was open.

Jack charged around to the far side and found another guy with a knife, but the point of this one was held at Gia's throat.

"All we want is the truck," he said, breathing hard. He wore a clean plaid short-sleeve shirt and beige slacks, white socks and running shoes; he looked almost preppy except for the tattoos on his arms. "Give us the truck and no one will get hurt."

"We?" Jack said, pulling the Llama from its holster and slowly, methodically working the slide for full effect. He'd have to play this very carefully. "Us? Your 'we' and 'us' are already down. They're out of the picture."

He paused to allow the guy to appreciate the wails and moans from his buddies on the far side of the truck and get a good look at the 9mm automatic in Jack's hand. He slid further behind Gia.

"You think you can get away with this?" Jack said softly.

"Yeah. I can get away with anything, man! All the rules are off! Don't you see that?" He stared for a moment into the sky over Jack's left shoulder. "We got buildings and people flyin' off into space during the day and monsters chewin' up everything in sight all night. I been through detox twice, man, and I ain't never seen shit like this, even when I was strung out like bubblegum. Anything goes, man. School is out!

"Not my class," Jack said. "Let her go."

The guy pressed the knife blade to against Gia's throat. She winced at the sharp pressure.

"The truck or I'll cut her, man! I swear t' Christ I'll cut her fucking throat!"

Jack felt his heart begin to hammer in his chest. Gia's panicked eyes pleaded with him. He gave her a little nod of encouragement as he controlled himself. Had to be cool here. Had to go slow.

But if this bastard so much as broke her skin…

Jack settled the Llama into a two-handed grip and raised it until it was sighted at the guy's right eye where he peeked out from behind Gia's ear.

"You've been watching too many movies, turkey," Jack said softly. "This kind of thing doesn't work in real life. I've got a gun and you've got a knife. You cut her, you've lost your shield." Jack took a step closer. "Now, so far today you and your buddies have hurt a very good friend, deeply frightened a little girl I couldn't care for more if she were my own flesh and blood, and manhandled the woman I love." Another small step closer. "So I'm royally pissed. But I'm willing to work a deal. Drop the knife and you live. I'll let you walk."

The guy's laugh was flat and tremulous as he peeked out from behind Gia's head to speak.

"Don't try to bullshit me. I got your bitch here. I've got a knife at her neck, I'm callin' the shots!"

A car came by, slowed for a look, then sped away. Jack slipped forward another step.

"Maybe I didn't make it clear. Listen again. Drop it, you live. Spill one drop of her blood, you die—slowly. First I shoot off your right kneecap, then your left, then your right elbow, then your left. Then a gut shot. Then I take your knife and start cutting off pieces I decide you don't need anymore and feed them to you."

"Jack…please!" Gia said.

"Sorry. Just want to let this guy know what he's in for."

"You think that scares me?" the guy said, peeking out again. "I'll show you how scared I—"

As he increased the pressure of the blade against Gia's throat, Jack shot him in the eye. His head snapped back, a red mist blooming behind him for an instant before dissipating; his arms flung outward as he lurched back and collapsed on the pavement.