Pendergast extended his hand. This time, he was able to pierce the membrane. But he pulled his hand back instinctively when he felt a crawling sensation.
Once again, he took a deep breath. Then, without allowing himself time to think any further, he tensed and strode into the portal.
71
DELAPLANE LED HER OFFICERS across the park and toward the beast, which was now battering down another church, this one on Drayton Street. Seeing its furious assault on a Christian icon just made her more certain this was a creature from hell itself. She wondered if she might be witnessing the Apocalypse—with this the beast of destruction, the dark angel of the bottomless pit as described in Revelation. But whether it was the end or not, she still had a duty to carry out. She’d always been a believer, tried to live as a Christian, and whatever happened to her, God would sort things out. Right now, she had a responsibility to fulfill—to protect the people and kill that bitch monster.
She led her officers past the burning platform and to the north end of the park, where the brute was now flying up from the ruins of the church. With a screech it banked north toward the river, and she thought for a moment that perhaps it might just fly off. But no such luck: it came back around, huge wings flapping as it gained speed. It was heading in straight and low, following a path that would take it along Drayton Street. As it swung lower, its wings clipped a power pole, sending it down in a shower of sparks.
Delaplane turned to her crew. “Spread out and take cover among the cars. We’ll unload as it flies past.”
Drayton Street was packed with abandoned cars, in the roadway and up on the sidewalks. Her officers fanned out among them, crouching behind vehicles and taking aim as the creature came beating its way up the street, fast and low, backwash from its wings thrashing the trees on either side.
“Wait for my signal,” Delaplane cried. She didn’t want any panicked firing before it came into range.
It glided still lower. The stench of burning rubber filled her nostrils. She could see it closely now, its bug head swiveling this way and that, its proboscis, like a big-bore hypodermic, trembling and twitching. The entire thing was shimmering with a faint blue light, as if electrified, and at times it seemed almost transparent, more a hologram than something solid. But the death and destruction it was wreaking were real enough.
She felt the roaring in her ears as the beast closed in. “Fire!” she screamed, and they unloaded as it swept over. The thing reacted violently to the rain of lead, twisting and issuing an unholy screech. It thrashed its wings, tangled momentarily in a great oak, then tore off a heavy tree limb as it reversed flight and plunged down, talons extended like steel traps. The cops kept up their fire as the enraged creature scrabbled among the cars, bashing, crushing, and overturning them as it tried to get at her officers. She watched in horror as it sank its talons into one of them, Sergeant Rollo, rising into the air as it literally tore the man into pieces, then flinging the gobbets away and coming back to seize another.
While the firing seemed to enrage the creature, it didn’t appear to be doing any significant damage. As she watched, it briefly flickered in and out of focus.
Delaplane kept up a steady fire until her ammo ran out; she ejected the magazine, pulled the spare from her service belt, and rammed it home.
Now rage took over. She stood up and, holding the Glock in both hands, silhouetted by the grandstand burning furiously behind her, fired again and again as she cursed and damned the creature to hell, firing until her spare magazine was empty. The creature came at her, its compound eyes glowing; she flung away the gun and yanked out her ASP baton, pouring more curses upon the beast’s approaching head as she telescoped the baton to full length and waited to swing it, preparing for what was likely to be her first and only blow.
72
A REVOLVING TUNNEL OF light surrounded Pendergast, at the end of which was the view of Times Square. It was like being inside a child’s kaleidoscope tube: ever turning, ever changing, disorienting and dizzying. The tunnel was a slice or hole bored through stacked layers of light; he surmised the layers were the edges of parallel universes punched through in order to reach the one at the end. They were constantly shifting, moving, folding and refolding upon themselves, advancing and retreating. And through these folds he could see glimpses of worlds: of strange landscapes and endless seas, parched deserts and mountains that pierced the skies, erupting volcanoes and blue glaciers. At first, his skin felt as if it was burning and yet freezing at the same time. This feeling receded, replaced by a tingling sensation. The feeling grew stronger, until it was as if countless tiny fire ants were crawling over every inch of his skin.