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"Thanks for sugarcoating things for me," Lazarus said, the two of them briefly laughing before wrapping up their conversation.
No matter how many times he tried to squelch it, Remy couldn't get the idea from his mind: It was the closest the world had ever come to ending. The Horsemen were already here, waiting for the seals on the scrolls to be broken. And even though they had yet to be given the official go-ahead, their influence upon the world could still be felt.
The intensity of the weather was only a minor exam- ple. He'd had the radio on earlier as he drove, but was forced to turn it off as stories of startling world events were reported. India and Pakistan were on the brink of a nuclear exchange, and North Korea had amassed troops and weaponry on the line of demarcation with South Korea. And then there was the spread of famine in Africa, reaching epidemic proportions with hundreds of thousands on the verge of death, and the outbreak of a mutated strain of flu in Los Angeles.
The Horsemen were most definitely here, and the only member of the dark riders not exuding his influence was Death. Remy hoped that he had enough time to keep it that way.
Remy finally reached Mass Tech and parked his car in front of the Dryfuss Library Building. He had taken Madeline here for some business seminars years ago, and knew that there was a system of tu
He was right, getting inside the library through a side door, and easily avoiding contact with a security guard by willing himself unseen. Finding a mounted wall map of the tu
The Mahut Building was where the Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences was located, and the offices of its teachers and professors were conveniently on the lower level.
He reached the building quickly and headed down a well-lit hallway, certain from what he recalled of the map that the faculty offices were just up ahead and around the corner.
There was a sudden crash, followed by what sounded like barking coming from behind a closed door on Re-my's right. His eyes darted around, searching for shadows, but he didn't see a thing. Cautiously, he walked up to the door and, cupping his hands over his eyes, peered through the window.
It was a large laboratory, the entire back of the room lined with cages, and inside the cages, monkeys. Rhesus monkeys, he believed they were called. They were often used in medical experimentation. Most of the animals were asleep, but he saw that one of them was awake, standing up as it clutched the thin metal bars of its cage. It was looking directly at him as he peered through the window glass.
Remy's heart had been racing, but now that he knew the source of the odd sounds, he found himself calming a bit. He moved on down the hall, turning the corner into a short corridor with offices on either side, and began looking for Professor Stall's name.
He found the office at the end of the hallway, beside a custodian's closet. It was locked. If time hadn't been in such short supply, he would have picked the lock, but this needed to be done quickly.
Remy placed the flat of his hand against the door, just above the knob, and started to push. There was a loud crack, and the door swung into the office, pieces of the jamb dropping down onto the carpeted floor. He quickly entered, closing the door the best he could behind him.
He had to make this fast. He didn't know how early the staff was required to show up, but since there were animals to feed, he figured it had to be relatively early. Pulling the chain on the desk lamp, Remy began his search. First he went through the drawers in the old-fashioned wooden desk, removing all the contents — files, books, lecture notes — but came up with nothing.
He stood, surveying the office, his eyes darting about, searching every corner. In a small space between an old file cabinet and the wall, Remy found a leather briefcase like the one Casey said Jon had taken with him that night.
He snatched it from the floor and laid it down upon the desk, rummaging through every pocket and compartment, but the briefcase was empty.
"Damn it," he swore beneath his breath. For a moment, he thought he'd been close.
A rumble like the sound of an oncoming train filled the cramped quarters, momentarily returning him to alert, but then he realized, as he felt the warm current of air on his legs from the heating duct in the wall behind the desk, that it was only the sound of the heat coming on.
There was something odd in the smell of the heat.
He doubted that anyone else would have noticed, but there was no mistaking the smell of dried papyrus, no matter how slight. He dropped down to the floor to peer into the heating duct, the forced warm air, drying the moisture of his eyes.
The spark of excitement he felt upon finding the briefcase was back again, and he quickly searched the desk for something that would enable him to investigate further. In a top drawer he found a letter opener. Kneeling down, he used the flat tip of the blade to unscrew the metal grate in the wall.
Pulling the black grate away, he tentatively put his hand inside the warm duct and began to feel around. At first all he found were large clumps of dust and grit, and he was about to give up when the side of his hand brushed up against something rough.
Remy got down on his belly, looking into the darkness, and extended his reach even farther into the duct; there was definitely something there. Carefully, he felt around with fingertips, and then one by one, he withdrew the ancient scrolls, five in total. A scroll for each Horseman, giving them permission to unleash their full fury; the fifth a final edict from the Almighty stating that it was time for it all to be brought to a close.
Without the fifth opened, hope still remained alive.
Th-th-that's all folks! Remy heard the voice of a cartoon pig stutter as he gazed upon the ancient documents laid out before him on the floor. He felt some of the enormous weight of responsibility resting upon his shoulders lighten, but not all.
He carried the scrolls to the desk and began to place them inside the empty briefcase. The fifth he put in the pocket in the lining of his coat. Buckling the straps of the leather satchel, his eyes sca
The heat blowing from the grate caused the papers tacked to a bulletin board above it to flutter in the warm currents of air, revealing a hint of something familiar beneath them. With nothing to lose, Remy approached the bulletin board, lifting one of the fluttering pieces of paper higher to see what was tacked there. It was an old photograph of a small beach house at dusk, the sun setting beautifully in the background.
It was a nice picture, and Remy wondered if Jon or Israfil had taken it.
He suddenly recalled the watercolor painting and the framed photograph hanging on the wall of Casey and Jon's living room. They too were of a beach house. Stepping closer to the board, Remy began to lift up more of the papers, finding even more photographs beneath. Sensing that he might be on to something, he removed the first layer of documents to reveal a sort of collage dedicated to the quaint piece of beach property. Across the top of the board was tacked a heading that read, a little piece of heaven.
It felt as if a trap door had been sprung and the floor was dropping out from beneath him.