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"Oh, G.o.d," she sobbed. She knew what he wanted. Judy touched her cigarette lighter to the edge of the gasoline stain. First the pile of dust ignited, slowly incinerating Asher Lowen, and then the larch walls turned to fire.
Judy stepped back, looking at Seth.
He stood in the middle of the rising gust of fire. His clay-sheathed arm extended. His finger pointed to the bas.e.m.e.nt steps.
Sobbing, Judy rushed out just as the first wave of heat and smoke reached out for her.
She stood back in the yard for a time, watching the bas.e.m.e.nt doorway disgorge flames. She started to walk away but stopped.
From her pocket she withdrew the bag of crack. Seven pieces left, she saw, and halfheartedly she thought, Seven. The perfect number.
She threw the bag into the fiery doorway, jogged to the Tahoe, and drove south, for the airport.
There'd only been one thing she hadn't noticed. Earlier, when she'd returned from her first trip to the airport, she'd left the black step van parked in the front yard, but now it was no longer there.
EPILOGUE.
Gra.s.sy fields and hardy farmland s.h.i.+mmered in green chaos, mile after mile after mile. First Mary land, then Virginia, then Kentucky...The black van clattered on, belching smoke, jamming gears, and squealing bearings. A typical person wouldn't dream of taking a vehicle this run-down on so arduous and indeterminate a road trip, yet Lydia Lowen, attired in her austere black dress, hardly qualified as typical.
S'mol protects the faithful, she knew. Perhaps Asher wasn't faithful enough, or perhaps, just as G.o.d worked in mysterious ways, so too did the devil.
Upon the failure of the last rite, the town had already disbanded-as it was written-and would rea.s.semble no more, each individual venturing out as a beacon of darkness in a world of blessed turmoil. And as S'mol had given Lydia protection, he'd also given her the strength to singlehandedly roll the three and a half remaining barrels of Vltava clay up the ramp into the back of the van. When she'd found D-Man's formidable corpse at that traitor Croter's house, she'd hauled it up into the van as well.
She considered that Asher may have gotten too greedy. Pride and avarice were sins either way. He'd lost sight of the wisdom of our melech, she felt sure.
I will not.
So she drove and drove, content in her protector's embrace, and would go to wherever he guided her. Just like Moses, she thought with a quiet smile.
And she was sure that D-Man's body would make a fine goilem, and would be the first of many.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Wendy Brewer, Don D'Auria, James Barnhard of JRB Ill.u.s.tration, Tim McGinnis, Kathy Rosamilia, Liz Boulter, Mike McQuinn (for the tech stuff), Dave Barnett, Rich Chizmar, Ian Levy, Michael Ling, Dave Hardberger, SPC Andrew Myers, Rob Johns, Jim Argendeli, Chris Casmedes, Bob Strauss, William D. Gagliani, Jeff Burk, Bryan Smith, Mark Justice, Christine Morgan & Becca, Rudy, David, and Christian, Larry Roberts, Shane Staley, Jason Byars, Ken Arneson, peteboiler, Wetbones, Killa Klep, asimmons, Liquidnoose, Harvester, Jack Staynes, corpsegrinder, darvis, darkthrone, splatterhead, maladar, patronick, infnlfolowr, Mike Lombardo, Bloodhammer, bellamorte, Zombie905, Babaganoosh, boysnightout, world-sp.a.w.n, jdamen, Specky, Bellamorte, everything horror dude, thereptilians, jonah. GNFNR, bsaenz24, reelsplatter, morleyisozzy. Folks at Phil's: Anda Norberg and Tim Shannon, Ashley and Jared, Alicia, Crystal and Becky, Suzanna, Tess. Charlie, Chris, and Sarah Meitz for the Austrian trek. Also, exponential thanks to Maharal Judah Loew for creating the Golem of Prague in 1580.
Other Leisure books by Edward Lee:.
BRIDES OF THE IMPALER.
HOUSE INFERNAL.
SLITHER.
THE BACKWOODS.
FLESH GOTHIC.
MESSENGER.
INFERNAL ANGEL.
CITY INFERNAL.
end.
