A living man came out of the crowd and hurried the little girl away. Her education would have to wait until Gary knew what was going on.
“What was that?” Marisol demanded. The living around them shook their heads in confusion. Gary wasn’t just losing it, then. There had definitely been a sound. He touched Noseless’s mind and had him study the dead trees of Central Park, the tombstone tenements beyond. There-a puff of brown and grey smoke rolling over some trees on the western edge of the park. Over by the American Museum of Natural History, almost directly across the park from the Met where Mael had reanimated. Gary reached across theeididh and sent a wave of his dead soldiers moving in that direction. Those closest to the museum were engulfed in a wave of dust that dissipated quickly. They staggered onto the museum grounds and tripped over fallen pieces of stone and brick. That wasn’t altogether surprising-the dead had demolished a good half of the Natural History Museum in their quest for bricks with which to build Mael’s tower. Maybe the rest of the building was just collapsing.
A honking, shrilling blare rolled across the park. The dead nearest the Natural History Museum covered their ears in defense against the noise. The sound rose and fell and flared out into a high-pitched shriek that made Gary’s skull hurt. When it finally stopped he ordered his dead to get closer, to surround the museum. That had been a man-made sound. Feedback on a speaker system, perhaps.
Or from a bullhorn. “Hello! Mr. AssholeXaaraan!”
That word wasn’t English but it sounded familiar. Oh yes, of course. One of the Somali girls had used it to describe him. She’d had a bayonet impaling his chest at the time.
“Hello, dead man, are you out there!”
There was still dust in the air near the Natural History Museum. It vibrated every time the girl spoke. Gary possessed the throats of his army.
“Yesssss,”he made them hiss with rotten vocal chords.“I’mmmmm heeerrreee.”
A figured appeared on the roof of the Natural History Museum, on top of the glass-walled Hayden Planetarium. Noseless could just make her out with his cloudy eyes-plaid skirt, blazer, headscarf. The girl soldier raised the bullhorn to her mouth again and her words blasted across Central Park, bouncing off the hardened mud, ricocheting off the twisted iron streetlamps. “You said you would take me as your payment for the drugs. I have come.”
Ayaan-it was Ayaan, the bitch who shot him. Gary felt his dessicated salivary glands swell with excitement. He hadn’t really expected Dekalb to accept his offer. He urged his dead scouts forward, into the broken province of the museum. Inside in the shadowy space hot dust roiled in great clouds that reduced visibility. Piles of broken rubble clogged the corridors and broad exhibit spaces. Ayaan must have demolished all the stairwells-there was no way up to the roof anymore, as far as Gary could tell. The only part of the museum that hadn’t been damaged was the planetarium itself, a metal clad sphere suspended inside a self-contained structure of tempered glass. There was no way inside the glass cube without going through the main body of the museum, and the glass was shatterproof.
Gary pulled his troops out of the ruined building and had them swarm around the sides. They reached up across the glass but could find no handholds, nothing at all to help them climb up. Ayaan had picked an incredibly defensible location to make her last stand. There was no way up-but she was also cut off from escape.
“Here I am!” she said, her words chased by rubbery echoes. “Come and get me!”