Wilson, Paul - The Tomb (Repairman Jack)

He could sense their pure, naked aggression, their immaculate evil. No pretense about their savagery—it was all on the surface, surrounding them like an aura.

Jack still felt his heart trip and fumble a beat every time one of the creatures turned its yellow eyes his way. His mind still resisted complete acceptance of the fact that he was invisible to them.

The reek of the things thickened as he wound his way across the floor. They must have looked a comical pair, tiptoeing piggyback through the dark. Laughable except for their precarious position: One wrong move and they’d be torn to shreds.

If negotiating a path through the recumbent rakoshi was harrowing, dodging the wandering ones was utterly nerve-wracking. Jack had little or no warning as to when they’d appear. They’d loom out of the shadows and pass within inches, some pausing, some even stopping to look around, sensing humans but not seeing them.

He was three quarters of the way across the hold when a seven-foot shadow suddenly rose from the floor and stepped toward him. Jack had nowhere to go. Dark forms reclined on either side and the space where he stood between them would not allow a rakosh to pass. Instinctively he jerked back—and began to lose his balance. Kolabati must have sensed this for she pressed her weight rigidly against his spine.

In a desperate move to keep from toppling over, Jack lifted his left leg and pivoted on his right foot. He swiveled in a semicircle to wind up facing the way he’d come, straddling a sleeping rakosh. The creature brushed Jack's arm as it shuffled past.

With a sound somewhere between a growl and a hiss, the rakosh whirled with raised talons, baring its fangs. Jack didn't think he’d ever seen anything move so fast. He clenched his jaw, not daring to move or breathe. The creature asleep between and beneath his legs stirred. He prayed it would not awaken. He could feel a scream building within Kolabati; he tightened his grip around her legs—silent encouragement to hold on.

The rakosh facing him rotated its head back and forth quickly, warily at first, then more slowly. Soon it calmed and lowered its talons. Finally it moved off, but not without a long, searching look over its shoulder.

Jack allowed himself to breathe again. He swung back into the path of clear floor between the rakoshi and continued the endless trek toward the starboard wall of the hold. As he neared the aft corner, he spotted an electrical conduit leading upward from a small box on the wall. He headed for that, and smiled to himself when he saw the three buttons on the box.

The shallow well directly under the elevator was clear of rakoshi. Perhaps they’d learned during the time they’d been here that this was not a good place to rest—sleep too deeply and too long and you might be crushed.

Jack didn't hesitate. As soon as he was close enough, he reached out and jabbed the Down button.

A loud clank—almost deafening as it echoed through the gloomy, enclosed hold—followed by a high-pitched hum. The rakoshi were instantly alert and on their feet, their glowing yellow eyes fixed as one on the descending platform.

Movement at the far side of the hold caught Jack's eye: the Mother rakosh was heading their way. All the rakoshi began to shuffle forward to stand in a rough semicircle less than a dozen feet from where Jack stood with Kolabati on his back. He’d backed up as far as he could without actually stepping into the elevator well.

The Mother pushed her way to the front and stood there staring upward. When the descending platform reached the level of ten feet or so from the floor, the rakoshi began a low chant, barely audible above the steadily growing whine of the elevator.

"They're speaking!" Kolabati whispered in his ear. "Rakoshi can't speak!"

With all the other noise around them, Jack felt it safe to turn his head and answer her.

"You should have seen it last night-like a political rally. They were all shouting something like, Kaka-ji! Kaka-ji! It was—"

Kolabati's fingernails dug into his shoulders like claws, her voice rising in pitch and volume that he feared would alert the rakoshi.

"What? What did you say?"

" ' Kaka-ji .' They were saying, 'Kaka-ji .' What's—?"

Kolabati let out a small cry that sounded like a word, but not an English word. And suddenly the chant stopped.

The rakoshi had heard her.

13

Kusum stood at the curb with his arm outstretched. All the taxis on Fifth Avenue seemed to be taken tonight. He tapped his foot impatiently. He wanted to get back to the ship. Night was here.

He still had work to do at the Consulate but, emergency meeting or no, he had found it impossible to stay there a minute longer. He had excused himself amid frowns from the senior diplomats, but he could afford their displeasure now. After tonight he would no longer need the shield of diplomatic immunity. The last Westphalen would be dead and he would be at sea, on his way back to India with his rakoshi to take up where he had left off.

He still had the matter of Jack to contend with, but had already decided how to deal with him. He would allow Jack to swim ashore later tonight after he had put to sea. Killing him would serve no purpose at that point.

He still had not figured out how Jack had found the ship. That question had nagged him for hours, distracting him throughout the meeting at the Consulate. No doubt Kolabati had told him, but he wanted to know for sure.

An empty taxi finally pulled up before him. Kusum swung into the back seat.

"Where to, Mac?"

"West on Fifty-seventh Street. I will tell you when to stop."

"Gotcha."

He was on his way. Soon the Mother and a youngling would be on their way to bring him the last Westphalen.

And then he would be rid of this land. His followers awaited. A new era was about to dawn for India.

14

Jack froze as the creatures began milling about, searching for the source of the cry. Behind him he could feel Kolabati's body bucking gently against him as if she were sobbing soundlessly into the nape of his neck.

What had he said to shock her so? Had to be Kaka-ji .

What did it mean?

The top of the elevator's wooden platform had descended to chest level. With his left arm still hooked around one of Kolabati's knees, Jack freed his right and hauled himself and his burden onto the platform. He struggled to his knees and staggered to the control panel next to one of the propane torches, punching the Up button as soon as he reached it.

With an abrupt lurch and a metallic screech, the elevator reversed direction. The rakoshi once again focused their attention on the elevator. With Kolabati still clinging to him, Jack sagged to his knees at the edge of the platform and stared back at them.

A dozen feet off the floor, he let go of Kolabati's legs. Without a word she released her grip on his neck and slid away toward the rear of the platform. As soon as she broke contact with him, a chorus of enraged growls and hisses broke from the floor. The rakoshi could see him now.

They surged forward like a Stygian wave, slashing the air with their talons. Jack watched them in mute fascination, stunned by the intensity of their fury.

Suddenly three of them lunged into the air, long arms stretched to the limit, talons extended. Jack's first impulse was to laugh at the futility of the attempt—the platform was easily fifteen feet from the floor now. But as the rakoshi hurtled up at him, he realized to his horror that they weren't going to fall short. He rolled back and sprang to his feet as their talons caught the edge of the platform.

The rakosh in the middle fell short of the other two. Its yellow talons had hooked onto the very edge of the platform; the ends of the wooden planks cracked and splintered under its weight. As jagged pieces broke loose, it dropped back to the floor.