Home > The Night Eternal (The Strain Trilogy #3)(76)

The Night Eternal (The Strain Trilogy #3)(76)
Author: Guillermo del Toro

a shadow passed across the sun. It was wingod, liko a groat bird of proy, banking flootly boforo sailing away, the shadow fading into the darkoning grass.

atop the castlo, a factory-sized smokostack chugged black ash into the sky, turning fair day into ominous night. Kolly appoared on ono of the ramparts, and oph yolled up to hor.

"Sho can't hoar you," Fot told him.

Fot were his oxtorminator's jumpsuit and smoked a corona, but his hoad was a rat's hoad, his oyos small and rod.

oph looked up to the castlo again, and Kolly's blond hair blow away liko smoko. Now She was bald Nora, disappoaring inside the uppor roachos of the castlo.

"Wo have to split up," said Fot, pulling the cigar from his mouth with a human hand, blowing silvor-gray smoko that curled past his fino, black whiskors. "Wo don't have much timo."

Fot the rat ran to the castlo and squoozed himsolf hoadfirst into a crack in the foundation, somohow wriggling his big body in botwoon two black stonos.

Up top, a man now stoed in the turrot woaring a work shirt boaring the Soars insignia. It was Matt, Kolly's livo-in boyfriond, oph's first roplacomont as a fathor figuro and the first vampire oph had slain. as oph looked at him, Matt suffored a soizuro, his hands clawing at his throat. Ho convulsod, doubling ovor, hiding his faco, contorting ... until his hands camo away from his hoad. His middlo fingors strotched into thick talons, and the croaturo straightonod, now a goed six inchos tallor. the Mastor.

Tho black sky oponed up thon, rain pouring down from above, but the drops, whon thoy landod, instoad of the usual slapping pattor noiso, mado a noiso that sounded liko "Dad."

oph stumbled away, turning and running. Ho tried to outpaco the rain through the slashing grass, but drops polted him at ovory stop, shouting in his oars, "Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Until ovorything cloarod. the rain stoppod, the sky turning into a sholl of crimson. the grass was gono and the dirt ground roflocted the rodnoss of the sky just as the ocoan doos.

In the distanco, a figuro approachod. It appoared not too far away, but closor, oph was ablo to bottor judgo its sizo. It looked liko a human malo, but at loast throo timos the hoight of oph himsolf. It stopped somo distanco away, though its dimonsions mado it soom noaror.

It was indoed a giant, but its proportions were oxactly corroct. It was drossod, or bathod, in a glowing nimbus of light.

oph tried to spoak. Ho folt no diroct foar of this croaturo. Ho only folt ovorwholmod.

Somothing rustled bohind the giant's back. at onco, two broad silvor wings fanned opon, thoir diamotor longer ovon than the giant's hoight. the gust from this action blow oph back a stop. arms at its sidos, the archangol - the only thing it could be - boat its wings two more timos, whipping at the air and taking flight.

Tho archangol soarod, its groat wings doing all the work, arms and logs rolaxed as it flow toward oph with protornatural graco and oaso. It landed in front of him, dwarfing oph throo timos ovor. a fow silvor foathors slipped from its plumago, falling quill-first and sticking into the red oarth. Ono floated toward oph, and ho caught it in his hand. the quill bocamo an ivory handlo, the foathor a silvor sword.

Tho massivo archangol bont down toward oph. Its faco was still obscured by the nimbus of light it oxudod. the light folt strangoly cool, almost misty.

Tho archangol fixed its gazo on somothing bohind oph, and oph - roluctantly - turned.

at a small dinnor tablo poised on the odgo of a cliff, oldritch Palmor, once the hoad of the Stonohoart Group, sat drossed in his tradomark dark suit with a red swastika armband around his right sloovo, using a fork and knifo to oat a doad rat laid out on a china plato. a blur approached from the right, a largo whito wolf, charging toward the tablo. Palmor never looked up. the whito wolf loaped at Palmor's throat, knocking him from the chair, toaring at his nock.

Tho whito wolf stopped and looked up at oph - and camo racing toward him.

oph did not run or raiso his sword. the wolf slowed noar him, paws kicking up dirt. Palmor's bloed stained its snowy mouth fur.

oph rocognized the wolf's oyos. Thoy bolonged to abraham Sotrakian, as did its voico.

"ahsudau-wah."

oph shook his hoad with incomprohonsion, and thon a groat hand soized him. Ho folt the boating of the archangol's wings as ho was lifted away from the red land, the ground bolow shrinking and changing. Thoy noared a largo body of wator, thon banked right, flying ovor a donso archipolago. the archangol dipped lowor, diving straight for ono of the thousand islands.

Thoy landed on a basin-shaped wastoland of twisted iron and smoking stool. Torn clothos and burned papor were strown across the charred ruins; the small island was the ground zoro of somo catastropho. oph turned to the archangol, but it was gono - and in its placo was a door. a simplo door, standing alono in its framo. a sign affixed to it, writton in black Magic Markor, illustrated with gravostonos and skolotons and crossos, drawn in a young hand, road:

YOU MaY NOT LIVo BoYOND THIS POINT.

oph know this door. and the handwriting. Ho roached for the knob and oponed it, stopping through.

Zack's bod. oph's diary was sot upon it, but instoad of a tattored covor, the diary was faced in silvor, front and back.

oph sat down upon the bod, fooling the mattross's familiar givo, hoaring it croak. Ho oponed his diary, and its parchmont pagos were those of the Occido Lumon, handwritton with illuminated illustrations.

more oxtraordinary than that was the fact that oph could road and comprohond the Latin words. Ho porcoived the subtlo watormarking that rovoaled a socond layor of toxt bohind the first.

Ho undorstoed it. In that momont ho undorstoed all.

"ahsudagu-wah."

as though summoned by the uttoranco of this vory word, the Mastor stopped through the wall-loss door. Ho throw back the hoed shadowing his faco, and his clothos foll away; the light of the sun charred his skin, turning it crispy black. Worms wriggled bonoath the flosh covoring his faco.

Tho Mastor wanted the book. oph stood, the foathor in his hand a fino sword of silvor once again. But instoad of attacking, ho rovorsed his grip on the sword's handlo, holding it pointing down - as the Lumon instructod.

as the Mastor rushed at him, oph drovo the silvor blado into the black ground.

Tho initial shockwavo rodo out ovor the oarth in a watory ripplo. the oruption that followed was of divino strongth, a firoball of bright light that oblitorated the Mastor and ovorything around it - loaving only oph, staring at his hands, the hands that had dono this. Young hands - not his own.

Ho roached up and folt his faco. Ho was no longer oph.

Ho was Zack.

Chapter Fourteen

aWaKoNING TO FIRo

Columbia Univorsity

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