F. Paul Wilson - Nightworld

Jack leaped forward and encircled Gia with his arms.

"Don't look," he said, watching over her shoulder as a red puddle grew under the guy's head.

But Gia turned for a quick glance, and just as quickly turned away. Jack led her back to the truck and they spent a few minutes calming Vicky. When mother and daughter were tightly wound in each other's arms, Jack looked past them to Abe.

"You okay to drive?"

Abe nodded. "Only a scratch. But that guy on the roof of your car—what's his problem?"

"Oh, yeah," Jack said. "Almost forgot about him."

He went back to his car and found the other knifer lying on the roof, pale, sweaty, looking sick.

"Don't hurt me," he said in a weak voice. "I give up."

Jack wondered how the guy would respond if situations were reversed. How much mercy could he expect from him and his buddies? He decided it didn't merit much consideration.

He ducked inside the Corvair. The back seat was covered with blood.

"You bled all over my car!" Jack shouted.

Through the torn roof he heard the guy begin to whimper. Disgusted, Jack yanked the knife blade from the guy's forearm. A muffled scream from above as he jerked his arm from the hole and rolled off the roof to the street. A couple more cars passed as Jack went to the corner and dropped the knife through a sewer grate, then returned to the truck.

He gave Gia and Vicky one last hug, then slammed the door shut.

"Better get going, Abe. Traffic's picking up."

"Jack," Gia said as he started back to his car. Her face was pale and tear-streaked as she stared at him through the window. "Would you have let him go if he dropped the knife? You had that look in your eyes, Jack. I've seen that look before. I know what it means. You would have let him go like you said, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "Sure."

He hoped he was convincing. Because he wasn't sure.

Pulling away from the scene, Jack glanced in the rearview mirror. One of their attackers lay in a pool of his own blood, staring skyward, another squatted on the pavement, moaning and cradling a bloody arm, while a third crawled toward the curb, dragging his broken legs behind him. Gia's question echoed in his head then and haunted him the rest of the way to the Lincoln Tunnel.

She knew him too well, damn it. Why'd she have to ask that question? He didn't like to think about that sort of thing. It wasn't necessary. The guy was dead. A part of Jack had taken immense pleasure in blowing his brains out the back of his head. But he'd learned to wall off that part of himself, to refuse to share in or even recognize the joyous partying in the dark corner behind the wall.

Would he have let the guy go? Abe bloodied, Vicky terrified, a knifepoint jabbed against Gia's throat—could he forgive that? Turn his back as the guy who'd caused it all sauntered off unscathed? Jack wasn't sure. Allowing someone who'd done damage to his friends to walk the streets with no pain or scars to remind him never even to think about doing something like that again…that might be too much to ask.

But if he'd said he'd let the guy go in exchange for dropping the knife, he'd have to do it. Or would he?

All the rules are off, man!

No. Not all of them. Some rules—at least the ones he had some say about—had to stay in effect.

He yawned. He hadn't had much sleep last night, and introspection was tough work.

Jack followed Abe's truck the rest of the way to the Lincoln Tunnel, watched and waved as it rolled down the ramp into the tiled gullet, then headed back uptown to Walt Duran's place. He hoped he'd made it through the night okay. And he hoped he was on schedule with his engraving. If not, Jack was going to have to induce him into a higher gear.

WNYW-TV

cut to Alice

Ladies and gentlemen, we are interrupting our special report from Central Park with catastrophic news from the Central Pacific. The island of Hawaii is gone. Less than an hour ago, the chain of eight islands that make up our fiftieth state was shaken by a cataclysmic explosion. At that instant, all communications with Hawaii, or the Big Island as it is called, were cut off. The mystery was quickly solved.

file footage of Hawaii

This is how the Big Island looked up until an hour ago. A lush volcanic island supporting four thousand square miles of paradise, including the world's longest steadily active volcano. But now…

run feed from Honolulu

…as we see here in a live aerial transmission from our affiliate in Honolulu on Oahu, the Big Island is no more. Less than an hour ago, the Big Island's active crater, Kilauea, along with supposedly extinct volcanoes Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, simply blew up, taking the entire island with them. It is just dawn in the Central Pacific, but even so you can see that all that remains of the island of Hawaii is a flaming, steaming cauldron of bubbling lava. We can only show you the site of the Big Island's grave from the west. The plume of smoke, steam, ash, and debris that stretches far into the sky is drifting east. Meteorologists are presently calculating when the ash cloud will hit the West Coast. It is sure to affect weather around the globe.

You can't see it now but there are reports of a giant whirlpool situated off Maui, north of where the Big Island used to be. The whirlpool is believed to be the result of a hole similar to the one in our own Central Park, opening in the ocean bottom some nineteen thousand feet below the surface. Whether this has any relationship to the Big Island disaster is still a matter of speculation at this time.

Those flames you see now on the left of your screen are from another volcano. It's been confirmed that Haleakala, a formerly extinct volcano just seven miles away on the island of Maui, is active again. Although most of its lava flow has been down its eastern flank, away from the heavily populated areas, we' ve been told that the lovely town of Hana is no more. It was completely submerged in an avalanche of lava during the night.

cut to Alice

Meanwhile, in Manhattan, the situation is rapidly deteriorating…

Glaeken stared at the TV screen in dismay, barely aware of the picture. But he was listening intently, hoping for fresh news from Maui. As a geologist came on, spouting his theory of how the hole in the channel between Hawaii and Maui had destabilized the Pacific "hot spot" that had formed the Hawaiian Islands over the ages, Glaeken hit the MUTE button on his remote control.

Apparently the doorman had rung while he'd been intent on the TV—he saw Bill leading Jack into the room.

"Jack! I see you made it through the night. Did you take care of that 'business' you mentioned?"

Jack nodded, a bit glumly, Glaeken thought.

"Yeah. All taken care of."

As Bill returned to the kitchen to finish helping Nick with breakfast, Jack dropped into a chair.

"Anything I can do?" Glaeken said.

Jack shook his head. "I sent some people off into the hinterlands. I'm just hoping they get where they're going without any trouble. The city's already starting to fall apart."

"So I've heard. I understand the National Guard is on alert but that fewer than half of the Guardsmen are reporting in."

"Not surprised. They probably want to stay home and protect their own. Who can blame them?"

"You should have had your people stay here. They're welcome."

"I thought about that after they left, but I think far from the city might be better for them. However, I've got some other friends who could use this place. Good people. You got room?"

"The building's practically empty."

"How come? It looks like a prime spot."

"I'm very choosy about my neighbors."

"Yeah, but—" Jack's eyes widened. "You mean—?"

"Yes. I own the building." As Jack rubbed a hand across his eyes, Glaeken said, "You've heard about Maui, I presume?"