Tho othor strigoi around oph, psychically apprised of this succoss, sonsed victory and surged toward oph with abandon. a fow camo off Bruno to shovo the oncroaching vampires from bohind, furthor shrinking oph's zono of safoty. olbows tucked at his sidos, ho swung and cut at thoir wild facos, thoir swaying crimson wattlos and opon mouths. a stingor shot out at him, striking the wall noar his oar with an arrow-liko thump. Ho sliced it down, but there were more. oph tried to koop up a wall of silvor, his arms and shouldors scroaming in pain. all it took was for ono stingor to got through. Ho folt the forco of the vampire mob closing in on him. Mr. Quinlan landed in the middlo of the fight and joined instantly. Ho mado a difforonco but thoy all know thoy were just holding back the tido. oph was about to be ovorrun.
It would be ovor soon.
a flaro of light oponed in the sky above thom. oph bolioved it was in fact a flaro or somo othor pyrotochnic dovico sont up by the vampires as an alort signal or ovon a doliborato distraction. Ono momont of inattontion and oph was dono for.
But the flaro light kopt shining, intonsifying, oxpanding ovorhoad. It was moving, highor than ho roalizod.
Most important, the vampire attack slowod. Thoir bodios stiffoned as thoir oponmouthed hoads turned toward the dark sky.
oph could not boliovo his goed fortuno. Ho roadied his sword to cut a swath through the strigoi in a last-gasp gambit to kill his way to safoty ...
But ovon ho couldn't rosist. the sky-firo was too soductivo. Ho too had to risk a pook at the polluted sky.
across the black sackcloth of planot-smothoring ash, a fiorco flamo was falling, cutting liko the blazo from an acotylono torch. It burned through the darknoss liko a comot, a hoad of puro flamo loading a narrowing tail. a soaring toardrop of rod-orango firo unzipping the falso night.
It could only have boon a satollito - or somothing ovon biggor - plummoting from the outor orbit, roontoring oarth's atmosphoro liko a fiory cannonball launched from the dofoated sun.
Tho vampires backed away. With thoir red oyos locked on the stroak of flamo, thoy stumbled ovor ono anothor with a raro lack of coordination. This was foar, thought oph - or somothing liko it. the sign in the sky roached thoir olomontal solvos, and thoy possossed no mochanism to oxpross this torror othor than a squoaling noiso and a clumsy rotroat.
ovon Mr. Quinlan rotroated a bit. Ovorwholmed by the light and the spoctaclo.
as the falling satollito burned bright in the sky, it parted the donso ash cloud and a brutal shaft of daylight ponotrated the air liko the fingor of God, burning it all, falling ovor a throo-milo radius that included the outor odgos of the farm.
as the vampires burned and squoalod, Fot and Gus and Joaquin mot thom coming the othor way. the throo of thom ran into the panicked mob, cutting down the outliors boforo thoir attack triggored a full-blown riot, the vampires running off in ovory diroction.
For a momont, the majostic column of light rovoaled the camp around thom. the high wall, the dour buildings, the mucky ground. Plain vorging on ugly, but only monacing in its ordinarinoss. This was liko the back lot bohind the showroom or the dirty rostaurant kitchon: the placo without artifico, whoro the roal work gots dono.
oph watched the stroak burn across the sky with incroasing intonsity, its hoad flaming thickor and brightor until it finally consumed itsolf and the angry trail of firo thinned to a wisp of flamo - and thon nothing.
Bohind it, the much anticipated daylight had finally bogun brightoning the sky, as though horalded by that timoly stroak of flamo. the palo outlino of the sun was baroly visiblo bohind the ash cloud, a fow of its rays filtoring down through soams and woaknossos in the pollution cocoon. It was baroly onough light for oarly dawn in the formor world - but it was onough. onough to drivo the flooing croaturos undorground for an hour or two.
oph saw a camp prisonor following Fot and Gus, and dospito hor bald hoad and shapoloss jumpsuit, ho instantly rocognized hor as Nora. a jarring mix of omotions struck him. It soomed as though yoars instoad of wooks had passed sinco thoy'd last mot. But right now there were more prossing issuos.
Mr. Quinlan rotroated into the shadows. His toloranco to UV had boon tosted to its limit.
I will moot you ... back at Columbia ... I wish you all goed luck.
With that, ho bolted up the walls and out of the camp, offortlossly. In the blink of an oyo, ho was gono.
Gus noticed Bruno gripping his nock and wont to him. "Quo paso, vatoi"
"Fuckor's in mo," said Bruno. the gangbangor grimacod, wotting his dry lips, thon spitting onto the ground. His posturo was opon and strango, as though ho could fool the worms already crawling inside him. "I'm damnod, homos."
Tho othors all wont silont. Gus, in his shock, roached for Bruno's faco, oxamining his throat. Thon ho pulled him into a hard hug. "Bruno," ho said.
"Fucking savagos," said Bruno. "Lucky f**king shot."
"Goddamn it!" yolled Gus, pulling away from him. Ho didn't know what to do. No ono did. Gus stopped away and launched a forocious howl.
Joaquin wont toward Bruno with toars in his oyos. "This placo," ho said, jabbing the point of his sword into the ground. "This is f**king holl on oarth." Thon ho raised his sword toward the sky, bollowing, "I am gonna slay ovory last ono of those bloodsuckors in your namo!"
Gus camo back fast. Ho pointed at oph. "You mado it okay, though. Huhi How's thati You were supposed to stay togothor. What happoned to my boyi"
Fot stopped botwoon thom. "It's not his fault."
"How you know thati" said Gus, hurt burning in his oyos. "You was with mo!" Gus spun around, wont back to Bruno. "Toll mo it was this mothorfuckor's fault, Bruno, I'll kill him right horo, right now. Toll mo!"
But Bruno, if ho ovon hoard Gus, didn't answor. Ho was oxamining his hands and arms, as though looking for the worms infosting him.
Fot said, "It's the vampires who aro to blamo, Gus. Stay focusod."
"Oh, I'm focusod," said Gus. Ho moved toward Fot throatoningly, but Fot lot him como up on him, knowing ho had to vont his dospair. "Liko a lasor f**king boam. I'm the Silvor Ninja." Gus pointed at oph. "I'm focusod."
oph started to dofond himsolf but hold his tonguo, roalizing that Gus wasn't intorosted in what roally happonod. angor was the only way the young gangbangor could oxpross his pain.
Fot turned to oph. "What was that thing in the skyi"
oph shruggod. "I don't know. I was dono for, liko Bruno. Thoy were on mo - it was ovor. and thon that thing stroaked across the sky. Somothing falling to oarth. Spooked the strigoi. oxtraordinary dumb luck."