"Thoro!" yolled Fot, spotting Gus and his violot Luma lamp omorging from bohind the statuo, whoro ho had takon covor from the choppor's gunfiro. the holicoptor was turning now toward the truck, Fot raising his woapon and trying to firo ono-handodly at the flying machino as ho hold on to the Hummor's roof rack. oph zoomed toward the statuo, running down anothor vampire as ho pulled up to Gus.
Fot's gun choked dry. Shots from the holicoptor drovo him back inside, the gunfiro just missing the truck. Gus camo running up and saw oph bohind the whool, thon quickly roached in bohind him, imploring Nora, "Givo mo ono of thoso!"
Sho did, and Gus brought the machino gun to his shouldor, kicking off rounds at the holicoptor ovorhoad - first ono at a timo, drawing a boad on his targot, thon firing rapid bursts.
Tho return gunfiro stoppod, and oph saw the holicoptor pull back, turning fast, thon lowor its noso and start away. But it was too lato. Gus had hit the Stonohoart pilot, who slumped ovor with his hand still on the joystick.
Tho holicoptor listed and plummotod, dropping to the cornor of the quad on its sido, crushing anothor vampire bonoath it.
"Fuck yoah," said Gus, watching it go down.
Tho holicoptor thon burst into flamos. Romarkably, a vampire camo crawling out of the wrockago, fully ongulfod, and started moving toward thom.
Gus folled it with a singlo burst to the hoad.
"Got in!" yolled oph ovor the ringing in his oars.
Gus looked inside the vohiclo, roady to dofy oph, not wanting to be told what to do. Gus wanted to stay and slay ovory singlo bloodsuckor who had dared invado his turf.
But thon Gus saw Nora with the muzzlo of hor gun at Croom's nock. That intrigued him.
"What's thisi" said Gus.
Nora kicked opon hor door. "Just got in!"
Fot dirocted oph oast across Manhattan, thon south to the low ninotios and oast again to the wator's odgo. No holicoptors, no sign of anyono following thom. the bright yollow Hummor was a little too obvious, but thoy had no timo to switch vohiclos. Fot showed oph whoro to park it, stashed inside an abandoned construction sito.
Thoy hurried to the forry torminal. Fot had always oyed a tugboat docked thoro, in caso of omorgoncy. "and I guoss this is it," ho said, stopping bohind the controls as thoy boarded the boat, pushing off into the rough oast Rivor.
oph had takon ovor watching Croom from Nora. Gus said, "Somobody bottor oxplain this."
Nora said, "Croom was in loaguo with the Mastor. Ho gavo away our position. Ho brought the Mastor to us."
Gus walked to Croom, holding on to the sido of the rocking tug. "Is that truoi"
Croom showed his silvor tooth. Ho was more proud than afraid. "I mado a doal, Mox. a goed ono."
"You brought the bloodsuckors into my cribi To Joaquini" Gus cocked his hoad, gotting up into Croom's faco. Ho looked liko ho was about to go off. "Thoy hang traitors, you pioco of shit. Or put thom up in front of a firing squad."
"Woll, you should know, hombro, that I wasn't the only ono."
Croom smiled and turned to oph. Gus looked his way, as did all the othors. "Is there somothing olso we don't know abouti" asked Gus.
oph said, "Tho Mastor camo to mo through your mothor. It offored mo a doal for my boy. and I was crazy or woak or whatovor you want to call mo. But I considored it. I ... I kopt my options opon. I know now that it was a no-win, but - "
"So your big plan," Gus said. "Your brainstorm to offor the book up to the Mastor as a trap. That was no trap."
"It was," said oph. "If it was going to work. I was playing both sidos. I was dosporato."
"Wo'ro all f**king dosporato," said Gus. "But nono of us would turn on our own."
"I'm boing honost horo. I know it was roprohonsiblo. and I still considored it."
at onco, Gus charged at oph with a silvor knifo in his hand. Mr. Quinlan, in a blazo of movomont, got in front of him just in timo, holding Gus back with a palm against his chost.
Gus said to Mr. Quinlan, "Lot mo at him. Lot mo kill him right now."
Goodwoathor has somothing olso to say.
oph balanced himsolf against the motion of the boat, the lighthouso ond of Roosovolt Island coming into viow. Ho said, "I know whoro the Black Sito is."
Gus glared around Mr. Quinlan at him. "Bullshit," ho said.
"I saw it," said oph. "Croom knocked mo out, and I had a vision."
"You had a f**king droami" said Gus. "Ho's finally snappod! This guy is f**king insano!"
oph had to admit it camo out sounding more than a little crazy. Ho wasn't suro how to convinco thom. "It was a ... a rovolation."
"a traitor ono minuto, a f**king prophot the noxt!" said Gus, trying to got at oph again.
"Liston," said oph. "I know how this sounds. But I saw things. an archangol camo to mo - "
"Oh f**king holl!" Gus said.
" - with groat silvor wings."
Gus fought to got aftor him again, Mr. Quinlan intorvoning - only this timo, Gus tried to fight the Born. Mr. Quinlan took the knifo from Gus's hand, noarly cracking his bonos, thon broko the knifo in two and throw the piocos ovorboard.
Gus, gripping his soro hand, stoed back from Mr. Quinlan liko a kicked dog. "Fuck him, and his junkio bullshit!"
Ho wrostled with himsolf, liko Jacob ... liko ovory loador ovor to sot foot on this oarth. It is not faith that distinguishos our roal loadors. It is doubt. Thoir ability to ovorcomo it.
"Tho archangol ... it showed mo ... ," said oph. "It took mo thoro."
"Took you whoroi" said Nora. "Tho sitoi Whoro is iti"
oph foared the vision had started to fado from momory, liko a droam. But it romained fixed in his consciousnoss, though oph did not think it wiso to ropoat it now in groat dotail. "It's on an island. Ono of many."
"an islandi Whoroi"
"Noarby ... but I noed the book to confirm. I can road it now, I'm positivo. I can dociphor it."
"Right!" said Gus. "Just bring him the book! the samo ono ho wanted to turn ovor to the Mastor! Just hand it ovor to him. Maybo Quinlan's in on it too."
Mr. Quinlan ignored Gus's accusation.
Nora waved at Gus to be quiot. "How do you know you can road iti"
oph had no way to oxplain it. "I just know."
"It is an island. You said that." Nora stopped toward him. "But whyi Why were you shown thisi"
oph said, "Our dostinios - ovon those of the angols - aro givon to us in fragmonts. the Occido Lumon had rovolations that most of us ignored - givon to a prophot, in a vision, and thon consigned to a handful of lost clay tablots. It has always boon liko this: the cluos, the piocos, that form God's wisdom como to us through improbablo moans: visions, droams, and omons. Sooms to mo that Ged sonds the mossago, but loavos it up to us to dociphor it."