Koontz, R. Dean - Dragon Tears by Koontz R. Dean

Author:Koontz, R. Dean [Dean, Koontz, R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-12T17:58:58.996000+00:00

"What plan?"

"There's always a plan, damn it."

Indeed, Harry was surprised to realize they had stood waiting for the golem without giving a thought to a course of action. They had been cops for so many years, and had worked as partners long enough, that they knew how best to respond in every situation, to virtually any threat. Usually they didn't actually have to put their heads together on strategy; they just acted instinctively, each of them confident that the other would make all the right moves as well. On the rare occasions when they needed to talk out a plan of action, a few one-word sentences sufficed, the shortspeak of partners in sync. However, confronted by a nearly invulnerable adversary made of bloodless mud and stones and worms and God-knew what-else, by a fierce and relentless fighter who was but one of an endless army that their real enemy could create, they seemed bereft of both instinct and brains, able only to stand paralyzed and watch him approach.

Run, Harry thought, and was about to take his own advice when the towering golem stopped in the middle of the street, about fifty feet away.

The golem's eyes were different from anything Harry had seen before.

Not just luminous but blazing. Blue. The hot blue of gas flames.

Dancing brightly in his sockets. His eyes cast images of flickering blue fire on his cheekbones and made the frizzy ends of his beard look like thin filaments of blue neon.

Ticktock spread his arms and raised his enormous hands above his head in the manner of an Old Testament prophet standing on a mountain and addressing his followers below, relaying messages from beyond. Tablets of stone containing a hunoied commandments could have been concealed within his generous raincoat.

"In one hour of real time the world starts up again," Ticktock said.

"I'll count to fifty A head start. Survive one hour, and I'll let you live, never torment you again."

"Dear sweet Jesus," Connie whispered, "he really is a child playing nasty games That made him at least as dangerous as any other sociopath.

More so.

Some young children, in their innocence of empathy had the capacity to be extremely cruel.

Ticktock said, "I'll hunt you fair and square, use none of my tricks, just my eyes," and he pointed to his blazing blue sockets, "my ears," and he pointed to one of those, "and my wits." He tapped the side of his skull with one thick forefinger. "No tricks. No special powers.

More fun that way. One... two ... better run, don't you think?

Three... four... five..."

"This can't be happening," Connie said, but she turned and ran anyway Harry followed her. They sprinted to the alley and around the side of The Green House, almost colliding with the bony hobo who had called himself Sammy and who was now frozen precariously on one foot in mid-stride. Their feet made curious, hollow slapping sounds on the blacktop as they exploded past Sammy and raced deeper into the dark backstreet, almost the sound of running footsteps but not quite.

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