The Tomb

  Jack waited until Vicky had climbed through the little entry hatch, then he followed, keeping his eyes on the edge of the platform until he reached the top of the ladder. Quickly, almost frantically, he squeezed through into the salty night air.

  Vicky grabbed his hand. “Where do we go now, Jack? I can’t swim!”

  “You don’t have to, Vicks,” he whispered. Why am I whispering? “I brought us a boat.”

  He led her by the hand along the starboard gunwale to the gangway. When she saw the rubber raft below, she needed no further guidance—she let go of his hand and hurried down the steps.

  Jack glanced back over the deck and froze. He’d caught a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye—a shadow had moved near the kingpost standing between the two holds. Or had it? His nerves were frayed to the breaking point. He was ready to see a rakosh in every shadow.

  He followed Vicky down the steps. When he reached bottom he turned and sprayed the top half of the gangway with flame, then arched the stream over the gunwale onto the deck. He kept the flame flowing, swinging it back and forth until the discharge tube coughed and jerked in his hands. The flame sputtered and died. Only carbon dioxide hissed through the tube. No more napalm.

  He loosened the harness, a job he’d begun in the aft hold, and shrugged off the tanks and their appendages, dropping them on the last step of the burning gangway. Better to let it go up with the ship than be found floating in the bay. Then he untied the nylon hawser and pushed off.

  Made it!

  A wonderful feeling—he and Vicky were alive and off the freighter. Only moments ago he’d been ready to give up hope.

  But they weren’t safe yet. They had to be far from the ship, preferably on shore, when those bombs went off.

  Jack grabbed the oars and began to row, watching the freighter recede into the dark. Manhattan waited behind him, drawing nearer with every stroke. Gia and Abe wouldn’t be visible for a while yet. Vicky crouched in the stern of the raft, her head swiveling between the freighter and land. He couldn’t wait to reunite her with Gia.

  Jack rowed harder. The effort caused him pain, but surprisingly little. He should have been in agony from the deep wound behind his left shoulder, from the innumerable lacerations all over his body, and from the pockets where the teeth of the savage little rakoshi had torn away the skin. He felt weak from fatigue and blood loss, but he should have lost more—he should have been in near shock. The necklace truly seemed to have healing powers.

  But could it really keep you young? And let you grow old if it were removed? That could be why Kolabati had refused to lend it to him when they were trapped in the pilot’s cabin. Could Kolabati be slowly turning into an old hag back in his apartment right now? He remembered how Ron Daniels, the mugger, had sworn he hadn’t rolled an old lady the night before. Perhaps that explained much of Kolabati’s passion for him: It wasn’t her grandmother’s necklace he’d returned—it was her own.

  He took a hand off an oar to reach up and touch the necklace. It might not be a bad thing to keep around. You never knew when you might—

  A splash over by the freighter.

  “What was that?” Jack asked Vicky. “Did you see anything?”

  He could see her shake her head in the darkness. “Maybe it was a fish.”

  “Maybe.”

  Jack didn’t know of any fish in Upper New York Bay big enough to make a splash like that. Maybe the flamethrower had fallen off the gangway. That would explain the splash nicely. But try as he might, Jack could not entirely buy that.

  A cold clump of dread sprang up between his shoulders and began to spread.

  He rowed even harder.

  37

  Gia couldn’t keep her hands still. They seemed to move of their own accord, clasping together and unclasping, clenching and unclenching, running over her face, hugging her, climbing in and out of her pockets. She was certain she’d go stark raving mad if something didn’t happen soon. Jack had been gone forever. How long did they expect her to stand around and do nothing while Vicky was missing?

  Her pacing had worn a path in the sand along the bulkhead; now she simply stood and stared out at the freighter. It had been a shadow all along, but a few moments ago it began to burn—at least part of it. A line of flame had zigzagged along the hull from the deck level almost down to the water. Abe had said it looked like Jack’s flamethrower at work, but he didn’t know what he was up to. Through the binoculars it looked like a burning gangway and the best he could guess was that Jack was, in effect, burning a bridge behind him.

  And so she waited, more anxious than ever, waiting to see if Jack was bringing back her Vicky.

  Then suddenly she saw it—a spot of yellow on the surface, the rhythmic glint of oars moving in and out of the water.

  “Jack!” she called, knowing her voice probably wouldn’t carry the distance but unable to contain herself any longer. “Did you find her?”

  And then it came, that dear squeaky little voice she so loved:

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  Joy and relief exploded within her. She burst into tears and stepped to the edge of the bulkhead, ready to leap in. But Abe grabbed her.

  “You’ll only slow them up,” he said, pulling her back. “He’s got her, and he’ll get here faster if you stay where you are.”

  Gia could barely control herself. Hearing Vicky’s voice was not enough. She had to hold her little girl and touch her and hug her before she could truly believe she had her back. But Abe was right—she had to wait where she was.

  Movement of Abe’s arm across his face drew her attention away from the water for an instant. Was he wiping at tears? Gia threw an arm around his waist and hugged him.

  “Just the wind,” he said, sniffing. “My eyes have always been sensitive to it.”

  Gia nodded and returned her attention to the water: smooth as glass, not the slightest breeze, allowing the raft to make good speed.

  Hurry, Jack … I want my Vicky!

  In moments the raft was close enough for her to see Vicky crouched on the far side of Jack, smiling, waving over his shoulder as he rowed. And then the raft nosed against the bulkhead and Jack was handing Vicky up to her.

  Gia clasped Vicky against her. She was real! Yes, it was Vicky, truly Vicky! Euphoric with relief, she spun her around and around, kissing her, squeezing, promising never to let her go ever again.

  “I can’t breathe, Mommy!”

  Gia loosened her grip a fraction, but could not let go. Not yet.

  Vicky started blabbering in her ear. “A monster stole me from the bedroom, Mom! It jumped in the river with me and…”

  Vicky’s words faded away. A monster … then Jack wasn’t crazy. She looked over to where he stood on the bulkhead next to Abe, smiling at her and Vicky when he wasn’t glancing over his shoulder at the water. He looked awful—torn clothes, blood all over him. But he looked proud, too.

  “I’ll never forget this, Jack,” she said, her heart ready to burst with gratitude.

  “I didn’t do it just for you.” He glanced back at the water again. What was he looking for? “You’re not the only one who loves her, you know.”

  “I know.”

  He seemed ill at ease. He glanced at his watch.

  “Let’s get out of here, okay? I don’t want to be caught standing around when that ship goes up. I want to be in the truck and ready to roll.”

  “Goes up?” Gia didn’t understand.

  “Kabloom! I placed a dozen incendiary bombs throughout the ship—set to go in about five minutes. Take Vicks up to the truck and we’ll be right there.”

  He and Abe started pulling the raft out of the water.

  Gia was opening the door to the panel truck when she heard a loud splash and shouting behind her. She glanced up over the hood and froze in horror at the sight of a dark, dripping, glistening form rising out of the bay. It leaped up on the bulkhead, knocking into Jack and sending him sprawling headfirst into the sand—it was as if it hadn’
t even known Jack was there.

  She heard Abe shout “Good Lord!” as he lifted the raft and shoved it at the creature, but a single swipe of its talons ripped it open. The raft deflated with a whoosh, leaving Abe holding forty pounds of yellow vinyl.

  One of those rakoshi Jack had told them about. It had to be—there could be no other explanation.

  Vicky screamed and buried her face in Gia’s neck. “That’s the monster that took me, Mommy! Don’t let it get me!”

  The thing moved toward Abe, towering over him. Abe hurled what was left of the raft at it and backed away. Seemingly from nowhere, a pistol appeared in his hand and he began firing, the noise from the pistol sounding more like pops than shots. Abe fired six times at point blank range, backpedaling all the time. He might as well have been firing blanks for all the notice the thing took of the bullets.

  Gia gasped as she saw Abe’s foot catch on the edge of the bulkhead. He flung out his arms, waving them for balance, looking like an overfed goose trying to fly, and then he fell into the water, disappearing from sight.

  The rakosh lost interest in him and turned toward Gia and Vicky. Its eyes focused on them and it rushed forward.

  “It’s coming for me again, Mommy!”

  Behind the rakosh, Gia had an instant’s view of Jack rolling over and pushing himself to his knees. He was shaking his head and looking around as if unsure of where he was. Then she pushed Vicky into the cab of the truck and climbed in after her. She crawled over to the driver’s seat and started the engine, but the rakosh reached them before she could put it into gear.

  Gia’s screams joined Vicky’s as it drove its talons through the metal of the hood and pulled itself up in front of the windshield. In pure desperation she threw the truck into reverse and floored the accelerator. Amid plumes of flying sand, the truck lurched backward, nearly dislodging the rakosh …

  … but not quite.

  It regained its balance and smashed one of its hands through the windshield, reaching for Vicky through the cascade of bright fragments. Gia lunged to her right to cover Vicky’s body with her own. The truck stalled and lurched to a stop. She waited for the talons to tear into her back, but the pain never came. Instead she heard a sound, a cry that was human and yet unlike any sound she’d ever heard or wanted to hear from a human throat.

  She looked up. The rakosh was still on the hood of the truck, but no longer reaching for Vicky. It had withdrawn its hand from the cab and was now trying to dislodge the apparition that clung to its back.

  Oh, God—Jack! And it was from his wide-open mouth that that sound originated.

  She caught a glimpse of his face above and behind the rakosh’s head—so distorted by maniacal fury she barely recognized him. She could see the cords standing out in his neck as he reached around the rakosh and clawed at its eyes. The creature twisted back and forth but couldn’t dislodge him. Finally it reached back and tore him free, blindly slashing at his chest as it hurled him out of its field of vision.

  “Jack!” Gia cried, feeling his pain, realizing that in a few heartbeats she would know it herself. She had no hope of stopping this thing.

  But maybe she could outrun it. She twisted the door handle and crawled out, pulling Vicky after her. The rakosh saw her and climbed onto the roof of the truck. With Vicky clinging to her Gia began to run, her shoes slipping, dragging, filling with sand. She glanced over her shoulder as she kicked them off and saw the rakosh crouch to leap at her.

  And then night turned to day.

  The flash preceded the thunder of the explosion. It silhouetted the poised rakosh in white light that blotted out the stars. Then came the blast. The rakosh turned and Gia knew she’d been given a chance. She ran on.

  38

  The pain was three glowing, red-hot irons laid across his chest.

  Jack had rolled onto his side and was pushing himself up to a sitting position on the sand when the first explosion came. He saw the rakosh turn toward the flash from the ship, saw Gia start to run.

  The stern of the freighter had dissolved into a ball of orange flame as the fuel tanks exploded, quickly followed by a white-hot flash from the forward section—all the remaining incendiary bombs going off at once. Smoke, fire, and debris hurtled skyward from the cracked and listing hull of what had once been the Ajit-Rupobati. Jack knew nothing could survive that inferno.

  The rakoshi were gone, extinct but for one. And that one threatened two of the beings Jack valued most in this world. He’d gone berserk when he’d seen it reaching through the windshield of the truck for Vicky. It must have been following a command given to it earlier tonight to bring in the one who had drunk the elixir. Vicky was that one—the rakoshi elixir that had been in the orange was still in her system and this rakosh was taking its mission very seriously. Despite the death of its Kaka-ji, despite the absence of the Mother, it intended to return Vicky to the freighter.

  Splashing noises to his left … down by the bulkhead Jack saw Abe pulling himself out of the water and onto the sand. Abe’s face was white as he stared up at the rakosh atop the truck. He was seeing something that had no right to exist and he looked dazed. He’d be no help.

  No way Gia could outrun the rakosh, especially with Vicky in her arms. Jack had to do something—but what? Never before had he felt so helpless, so impotent. He’d always been able to make a difference, but not now. He was spent. He knew of no way to stop that thing. In a moment it would turn and run after Gia … and he could do nothing about it.

  He rose to his knees and groaned with the pain of his latest wounds. Three deep lacerations ran diagonally across his chest and upper abdomen from where the rakosh had slashed him with its talons. The torn front of his shirt was soaked with blood. With a desperate surge of effort, he gained his feet, ready to place himself between Gia and the rakosh. He knew he couldn’t stop it, but maybe he could slow it down.

  The rakosh leaped off the truck … but not after Gia and Vicky, and not toward Abe. It ran to the bulkhead and stood staring out at the flaming wreckage of its nest. Shards of metal and flaming wood began to pepper the surface of the bay as they returned from the sky, hissing and steaming as they splashed into the water.

  As Jack watched, it threw back its head and let loose an unearthly howl, so lost and mournful that Jack almost felt sorry for it. Its family, its world had gone up with the freighter. All points of reference, all that was meaningful in its life—gone.

  It howled once more, then dove into the water. Powerful strokes propelled it out into the bay, directly toward the pool of flaming oil. Like a loyal Indian wife throwing herself on her husband’s funeral pyre, it headed toward Kusum’s sunken iron tomb.

  Gia had turned and was hurrying toward him with Vicky in her arms. Abe, too, wet and dripping, was walking his way.

  “My grandmother used to try to scare me with stories of dybbuks,” Abe said breathlessly. “Now I’ve seen one.”

  “Are the monsters gone?” Vicky kept saying, her head continually rotating back and forth as she stared into the long shadows thrown by the tire on the bay. “Are the monsters really gone?”

  “Is it over?” Gia asked.

  “I think so. I hope so.”

  He’d been facing away from her. He turned as he answered and she gasped when she saw his front.

  “Jack! Your chest!”

  He pulled the shreds of his shirt closed over his ripped flesh. The bleeding had stopped and the pain was receding … due to the necklace, he guessed.

  “It’s all right. Scratches. Look a lot worse than they are.” He heard sirens begin to wail. “If we don’t pack this stuff up and get out of here soon, we’re going to have to answer a lot of questions.”

  Together, he and Abe dragged the deflated raft to the truck and threw it into the back, then they framed Gia and Vicky in the front seat. But this time Abe took the wheel. He knocked out the remains of the shattered windshield with the flat of his palm and started the engine. The sand was packed around the rear wheels but Abe
skillfully rocked it out and drove through the gate Jack had rammed open earlier.

  “A miracle if we make it uptown without getting pulled over for this windshield.”

  “Blame it on vandals,” Jack told him. He turned to Vicky who lay curled up against her mother, and ran his forefinger along her arm. “You’re safe now, Vicks.”

  “Yes, she is,” Gia said with a small smile as she laid her cheek against the top of Vicky’s head. “Thank you, Jack.”

  Jack saw that the child was sleeping.

  Gia slipped her free hand into his. Jack looked into her eyes and saw no fear there. It was a look he’d longed to see. The sight of Vicky sleeping peacefully made all the pain and horror worthwhile; the look in Gia’s eyes was a bonus.

  She leaned her head back and closed those eyes. “Is it really over?”

  “For you, it is. For me … one loose end left.”

  “The woman,” Gia said. It wasn’t a question.

  Jack nodded, thinking about Kolabati sitting in his apartment, and about what might be happening to her. He reached across Gia to get Abe’s attention.

  “Drop me off at my place first, will you, Abe? Then take Gia home.”

  “You can’t take care of those wounds by yourself!” she said. “You need a doctor.”

  “Doctors ask too many questions. And the one I usually use is out of town.”

  “Then come home with me. Let me clean you up.”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll be over as soon as I finish at my place.”

  Gia’s eyes narrowed. “What’s so important that you have to see her so soon?”

  “I’ve got some personal property of hers”—he tapped the necklace around his throat—“that has to be returned.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “Afraid not. I borrowed it without telling her, and I’ve been told she really needs it.”

  Gia said nothing.

  “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  By way of reply, Gia turned her face into the wind coming through the glassless front of the truck and stared stonily ahead.