Reprisal

"Why didn't he just kill me?"

"Too quick. No sustenance from that. Even physical pain gives him only a fraction of what he derives from psychic pain, from fear, hatred, self-doubt. His purpose appears to have been to utterly ruin you from within. To do that he stripped you of your support system—your family, your friends, your freedom, your religious order, your god, your very identity. He wants you to doubt yourself, to question the worth of your life, the usefulness of continuing it. He destroyed everything that gave meaning to your life, that made you who you are, expecting you to turn against your values and wallow in doubt and misery and self-pity. And then, hopefully, to commit the ultimate act of despair: suicide. He almost succeeded five years ago, but you refused to give up. So now he's returned to finish the job."

Bill sat there numb, in shock.

"But why is he wasting his time with me? If he's so powerful, if he's out to change the world into some awful place, why expend so much effort on me?"

"First of all, it gives him great pleasure. And in a hellish way it's a testimony to you that he felt he had to level such a devastating assault against you. He must respect your strength of character. He may even fear you. But the real reason he's taken the time to shatter your life is that he's afraid to reveal himself just yet. He's been biding his time, accumulating power, amusing himself while he grows stronger."

"He was afraid of a red-haired man when he was growing up," Carol said. "But we never saw him. Who was that?"

Veilleur sighed. "Me."

They all stared at the old man. Finally Re

"You've got to be kidding!"

"Not as I am today," Veilleur said quickly, "but as I used to be. I am the red-haired man Rasalom fears—or rather I was. He still thinks I am a vigorous, younger man, brimming with all the power of the opposing force, waiting for him to show himself so that I can bring the full power of that force to bear on him."

"So," Bill said. "You were the last to oppose him? Who before you?"

"No one."

"But you said this has been going on for ages."

Veilleur nodded.

"Then you're…" Bill couldn't grasp it, didn't want to try right now. "But then who represents this opposing force now?"

Veilleur's expression was bleak.

"No one. When Rasalom appeared to be dead, the battle appeared to be won, so the opposing force left this sphere. And I began to age as everyone else… one year at a time. So now there is no one on earth to oppose him."

Suddenly Bill was afraid—for the world, but especially for Lisl.

"I've got to go back," he said, rising to his feet.

"Bill, you can't be serious!" Carol said.

Bill felt his fear swell into waves of murderous rage, roaring through him like a storm surge.

"He killed my parents, mutilated Da

Re

"I'll go with you. I've got some unfinished business with this bozo myself."

"I want to come too," Carol said. "Maybe I can talk some sense into him."'

"Do you really believe that?"

"No," she said, her lips trembling. "But I feel I've got to try."

"I believe I'll come too," Mr. Veilleur said.

"Are you up to it?"

Bill felt the full intensity of his blue-eyed gaze.

"You can't stop him, but you can frustrate him, hamper him. I have this feeling that you're a man who can do it. It will be a small victory, meaningless in the long run, but I'd like to see it. I'll have to stay in the background, of course. Under no circumstances must he know about me. Understood?" One after another, he stared at each of them. "If he sees me like this he will know he's free to make this world—quite literally—a living hell."

As Mr. Veilleur went to give the nurse instructions as to the care of his wife during his absence, Bill began calling the airlines to check out the flight schedules. He was possessed by a dreadful rising urgency to get back to Pendleton.

THIRTY

North Carolina

Ev was gone.

They'd removed what was left of him from the front of the truck, put him on a stretcher, and roared off to the nearest hospital. Lisl vaguely remembered being guided to the back seat of a State Police cruiser that then followed the wailing ambulance. Before the ride, and after while sitting in the waiting area of the hospital emergency room, she answered countless questions; but now she could remember neither the questions nor her answers. She only remembered that E. R. doctor coming out and saying what everybody already knew: Everett Sanders was DOA.

She'd prepared herself for the news and so she was able to maintain a calm front when it came. They wanted to hold her for observation, saying she looked as if she was in shock, but Lisl adamantly insisted she was okay. Finally they took her back to the truck step and her car. She drove away and got as far as the next rest area; she pulled in, stopped in a deserted corner of the parking lot, and went to pieces.

And finally, when she could cry no more, when her sob-wracked chest and abdomen could take no more, Lisl sat and stared blindly through the windshield. She kept her eyes open as much as possible because every time she closed them she saw the sad, defeated, accusing look on Ev's face in the instant before the truck slammed into him.

Never in her life, not even in the depths she'd plunged to after her divorce from Brian, had she felt so utterly miserable, so completely worthless.

All my fault.

No… not all her fault. Rafe's too. Rafe had played a major role in Ev's death. That didn't exculpate her one bit, Lisl knew, but Rafe more than deserved to share her guilt. He'd erased Ev's computer files, perhaps the final shove that had sent Ev on that fatal walk onto the interstate. Rafe should know that he'd contributed to a man's death.

Lisl reached for the ignition key. Her limbs felt weak, leaden, as if they belonged to someone else. She had to concentrate on every movement. She got the car started and headed back to Pendleton.

The morning sun was unreasonably bright, glaring in her eyes as she drove. Traffic was Saturday-morning light but she stayed to the right, not trusting her exhausted reflexes at the higher speeds. The sun had disappeared behind a low-hanging sheet of cloud by the time she reached Pendleton. The town was coming to life then but the Parkview complex was still quiet. She pulled up to Rafe's condo and didn't hesitate. She went straight to his front door and pounded on its glossy metal surface. Silence inside. She pulled out her key and unlocked the door.

"Rafe?" She stepped inside. "Rafe?" She stopped on the threshold of the living room and stared in shock.

The room was empty. Stripped. The furniture, the paintings, even the rugs—gone.

What's going on?

"Rafe!"

She hurried from room to room, the clack of her shoes on the hardwood floors echoing through the emptiness. Each was the same. All traces of Rafe's presence had been completely stripped away.

Except in the kitchen.

Something was on the counter. Lisl hurried over and saw that it was a slip of paper and… a test tube. She picked it up and sniffed its open end—a trace of the mild odor of ethanol. She knew this tube. The last time she had seen it she had just emptied its contents into Ev's orange juice.

She lifted the slip of paper with her other hand and peered at it. Numbers and code words in Rafe's handwriting—computer access codes.

Ev's codes.

Weak, numb, feeling lost and very much alone, Lisl turned in a slow circle and stared at the condo's empty rooms.