He shook and shook, but Henry wouldn’t rouse. Milo concentrated harder, looked around for something to smash. Maybe that would wake him up.
“Fucking Palermo’s here, Henry, get UP!” Shaking harder still… until finally, Henry cracked his thick metal eyelids. Subconsciously, Milo registered that Henry’d gotten even bigger in the past ninety minutes. When’s he gonna stop fucking growing? Christ.
“Who’s here? Whuh?” Henry mumbled.
“What part of ‘fucking Palermo’ don’t you get, Henry? He’s on his way up here right now, and some douchebag has a gun in his back.”
Henry shook his head from side to side to clear the cobwebs. He reached an arm out. “Help me up,” he said groggily.
Milo gave him a look. “Right ’cause I’m suddenly Superman and can lift small cars on my own.”
Henry grunted something under his breath, used the closest wall to gain his feet instead.
“Henry? What’s… what’s happening?” Faye said blearily from the bed.
“We have to go,” Henry said, moving beside her. “Now. Get up.” Henry was awake now, the word “Palermo” cutting through the fog in his brain like a knife and kicking his ass into operating with pure efficiency.
“Why? Tell me what’s –”
“No time, just get up, let’s go.” He put one of his hands as delicately as he could around her left arm, pulled gently.
“Shit, you’re hurting me, Henry, stop it.”
“We need to get out of this apartment right now. Palermo is coming up the stairs. He does not want pleasant things for us. We need to go.”
“OK, alright,” Faye said, rubbing her eyes. “I just need my shoes.”
Henry looked around the room quickly. “There,” he said and pointed.
Faye moved to the edge of the bed where her shoes were, put them on as quickly as her sleep-deprived mind would allow.
“OK, let’s move,” Henry said, and headed for the front door.
* * *
Marcton parked the conspicuous Hummer four blocks away from Faye’s apartment, got out, told Cleve, Bill, and Melvin to keep quiet. “Not one sound except the crunch of snow under your boots – and even that needs to be next to silent.”
They were all packing one powerful handgun each and, in addition, Bill and Melvin had sawed-off shotguns hidden under their coats.
“The nurse’s apartment is just below the top floor, southwest corner,” Marcton said. “Keep your eyes peeled for any movement as we approach.”
When no one responded, he was impressed: just the crunching of their boots.
* * *
Five minutes before they’d arrived, Palermo had described to Krebosche as best he could what “ascension” meant. Although he neglected to mention that the last time he’d seen Henry Kyllo he was a massive creature being smuggled out of a dumpster and into Faye’s building under a blanket. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d seen sticking out under that blanket, but it certainly looked like Henry’s legs were made of metal.
Just like Adelina.
What he did tell Krebosche – yet more lies – was that Adelina had achieved the highest state she could in their order, and that the gathering at the house was just an ascension ceremony – merely a celebration of her achievement. But then something had gone wrong. As part of the ceremony, words were spoken – what they thought were simply rites of passage passed down in their holy book (they didn’t have a holy book). And when the words were spoken, the very moment they were out of Palermo’s mouth, he’d looked up and she was gone. Vanished.
“So you’re a cult leader,” Krebosche had said.
“I suppose I am, yes.”
“And you brought your daughter up in this voodoo shit?”
“I suppose I did. But it’s not voodoo.”
“Might as well be. Also, I don’t believe for a second that she just vanished. What I think is that this Kyllo guy you’re taking me to – once he sees I’m not fucking around – is going to tell me what really happened.”
Palermo had said nothing to that, just let it sit between them in the car. Palermo felt the shifting winds in his bones, and thought they might both be in for a bit of a surprise once they saw Henry Kyllo.
* * *
Inside Faye’s building, the south elevator moved upward quietly. It dinged softly as it passed each floor.
“Just so you know,” Palermo said, “there will be two people when the door opens – if the nurse isn’t at work, that is. I don’t know her exact schedule.”
“Understood,” Krebosche said.
A few floors passed with neither speaking. Then:
“So you’ll do the talking?” Palermo asked.
“Um, yeah,” Krebosche said, jammed the gun a little harder into the back of Palermo’s neck.
* * *
Just as Milo, Henry, and Faye were readying to leave, Adelina appeared in one corner of Faye’s living room. Everyone was leaving; that was good. They still had a chance. But they’d waited too long.
Nothing she could do now, but watch the door. Wait to see what happened.
Milo spotted her, said her name, but she ignored him. Just continued staring at the door.
A feeling of intense dread enveloped her.
* * *