The Servants of Twilight

Sandy tried to imagine what it would be like to be young again, so young that you hadn't yet realized how much there was to fear in this world, so young that the word "cancer" had no definition, so young that you hadn't any real grip on the meaning of death or the inevitability of taxes or the horror of nuclear war or the treacherous nature of the clot-prone human circulatory system. What would it be like to be that young again, so young that you could watch storm lightning with delight, unaware that it might find its way to you and fry your brains in one tenthousandth of a second? Sandy stared at Joey Scavello and frowned.

He felt old, only thirty-two but terribly old.

What bothered him was that he couldn't remember ever having been that young and free of fear, though surely he had been just as innocent of death when he was six. They said that animals lived their lives with no sense of mortality, and it seemed terribly unjust that men didn't have the same luxury. Human beings couldn't escape the knowledge of their death; consciously or subconsciously, it was with them every hour of every day. If Sandy could have had a word with this religious fanatic, this Grace Spivey, he would have wanted to know how she could have such faith in-and devotion for-a God who created human beings only to let them die by one horrible means or another.

He sighed. He was getting morbid, and that wasn't like him.

At this rate he would need more than his usual bottle of beer before bed tonight-like a dozen bottles. Still. he would like to ask Grace Spivey that question.

38

Shortly before noon, Charlie arrived in Laguna Beach, where he found Sandy, Max, Christine, Joey and the dog waiting for him in the service station.

Joey ran to him, met him just inside the garage doors, shouting, "Hey, Charlie, you shoulda seen the house go boom, just like in a war movie or somethin'! "

Charlie scooped him up and held him." I expected you to be mad at us for slipping up. I thought you'd insist on hiring Magnum again."

"Heck, no," the boy said." Your guys were great. Anyway, how could you've known it was gonna turn into a war movie?"

How indeed?

Charlie carried Joey to the rear of the garage, where the others stood in the shadows between shelves of spare parts and stacks of tires.

Sandy had told him that the woman and the boy were all right, and of course he believed Sandy, but his stomach finally unknotted only now that he saw them with his own eyes. The wave of relief that washed through him was a physical and not just emotional force, and he was reminded-though he didn't need reminding-of just how important these two people had become to him in such a short period of time.

They were a miserable-looking group, pretty much dried out by now, but rumpled and mud-streaked, hair lank and matted.

Max and Sandy looked rough, angry, and dangerous, the kind of men who cleared out a bar just by walking into it.

It was a tribute to Christine's beauty, and an indication of its depth, that she looked almost as good now as when she was scrubbed and fresh and neatly groomed. Charlie remembered how it had felt to hold her, last night in the kitchen of Miriam Rankin's little house, just before he'd gone home, and he wanted to hold her again, felt a warm melting need to hold her, but in front of his men he could do nothing but put Joey down, take her hand in both of his, and say, "Thank God you're all right."

Her lower lip quivered. For a moment she looked as if she would lean against him and cry. But she kept control of herself and said, "I keep telling myself it's just a nightmare. but I can't wake up."

Max said, "We ought to get them out of here now, out of Laguna."

"I agree," Charlie said." I'll take them right now, in my car.

After we've left, you two call the office, tell Sherry where you are, and have a car sent out. Go back up the hill to Miriam's house-"

"There's not anything left of it," Sandy said.

"That was one hell of a blast," Max confirmed." The van mustve been packed wall to wall with explosives."

"There might not be anything left of the house," Charlie said, "but the cops and fire department are still up there. Sherry's been checking into it with the Laguna Beach police, and I talked with heron the phone, coming down here. Report to the cops, help them any way you can, and find out what they've come up with."

"Did they find the guy in the alley, the one I shot?" Max asked.

"Nope," Charlie said." He got away."

"He'd have tove crawled. I shot him in the leg."

"Then he crawled," Charlie said." Or there was a third man around who helped him escape."

"Third?" Sandy said.

"Yeah," Charlie said." Sherry says the second man stayed with the van all the way into the house."

"Jesus."

"They are kamikazes," Christine said shakily.

"There mustn't have been anything left of him but a lot of little pieces," Max said and would have said more, but Charlie stopped him by nodding toward the boy, who was listening, mouth agape.