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And that was where Kirk came in。 Kirk Bogarde…Renegade Reporter！； with the scoop of a lifetime。 Kirk Bogarde…Renegade Reporter！； alone in the lead； while the petition flailed behind； their heads wedged up their asses。 Kirk Bogarde…Renegade Reporter！； barreling down the homestretch with a fireball in his gut： a feeling one part orgasm； one part motion sickness； one part sheer white…knuckling edge。
This was news。 Not opening shopping centers。 Not standing outside town meetings。 Not finding out whether the average potato…shaped Paradise native preferred donuts or faschnachts with their morning coffee。 Or had they kicked caffeine？ Find out at eleven！
Bullshit bullshit bullshit。 THIS was what life was about！ Taking chances； following hunches； playing out leads； and nailing the truth wherever you could find it。 Not taking your cues from cowards and bullies…not just Doing What You're Told…but grabbing the world by the throat and forcing it to confess its sins and secret passions； cough up its deepest mysteries。
No matter what the cost。
Because we needed the truth。 We deserved the truth。 We could not live without the truth。 And Kirk believed that to fulfill that need was the most beautiful； humbling； terrifying； and altogether essential function he could possibly imagine。
To be a part of something real。
To be a part of history。
The ACTION…9 Newsmobile screeched into 'PAL's parking lot at seven minutes to three。 Kirk hopped out； ran to the back door； thumbed the code on the security lock； and yanked the door open a microsecond after the electronic dead bolt buzzed back。 He took the stairs two at a time； clutching the camcorder； spilling through the newsroom door so noisily that he almost gave Laura a seizure。
〃I GOT IT！〃 he crowed exultantly。
〃Kirk！〃 she cried out； eyes afire with anger and relief。
And he grinned at her； he opened his mouth； he started to explain what had happened to him； and he got as far as inhaling for speech when he found himself suddenly spinning 。。。
。。。 and Gary was there； the words 〃You FUCK！〃 astonishingly loud in Kirk's ears as a huge fist zeroed in on his left eye。 Kirk moved； and it got his cheek instead； big square knuckles plowing into the soft skin beneath the right eye socket。 〃NAHHH！〃 he wailed； as the next blow came； catching his nose and mashing it flat； blood geysering out in thick twin jets 。。。
。。。 and there was a moment where everything went blank； very quickly over； and when he came back he found himself swinging at Gary with the camcorder； screaming； 〃GET OFFA ME FUCKER YOU DON'T UNNER…STAND 。。。 〃
。。。 as Gary nailed him with a right； sending the camcorder flying from Kirk's grasp to bounce off the wall and cough up the tape which bounced and spun and slid underfoot； crunching under Gary's boot and throwing him off…balance 。。。
。。。 as Kirk lurched forward； screaming 〃MY TAPE！〃； diverting him just long enough for Gary to recover and draw a bead 。。。
。。。 and Laura was screaming； Kirk was screaming； everyone was screaming in the time it took for the last fist to connect。
It was six minutes to three。
Forty…Seven
By this time； the stormclouds had buried the heavens； enveloped the county in premature night。 Like a rumbling； primordial curtain being drawn across the world； it drew down the darkness。
And swallowed the moon。
〃Micki；〃 whispered Gwen from the living room couch。 Her voice； weakened by fear to a quaver； was chilling in and of itself。
Micki stood by the wind…hammered living room window。 Terror welled huge in her soul。 She felt infinitesimally small； like a gnat before a god： like the storm was an enormous black finger and thumb； reaching down to extinguish her spark。
〃Micki 。。。 〃 Gwen's voice was tremulous； lacking the power to exclaim。 〃I don't feel very good 。。。 〃
〃It's okay； baby； everything's gonna be fine；〃 Micki said； her eyes closed； her teeth chattering。 She leaned against the pane。 〃Oh god； Bobba； help me。 Gwen 。。。 〃
Make a circle； Bob…Ramtha said； slicing through her fear。
〃What？〃 Confused。
Make a ritual circle。 Now。
〃I don't understand。 What good will that do？ I mean； shouldn't I take her back to the hospital or someth…〃
No。 You can't。
〃Why not？〃
Silence。
〃Bobba； I …〃
Because if you take her out there； she'll die。 There was no mistaking the gravity of his tone。 And so will the baby。
And so will you。
Outside the window； more thunder broke； and the wind intensified。 It pounded the pane； whistled through the cracks。
It whistled down her soul。
〃Something's ing； isn't it。〃 Not even a question。 Her voice sounded tiny against the storm： a humorless Betty Boop squeak。
A moment of silence。 Yes。
〃What is it？〃
I don't know。
〃You don't 。。。 〃 Her voice ended there。 A big question mark went off in her mind。 〃Wait a minute；〃 she continued； incredulous now。 〃What do you mean； you don't know？〃
I mean…and there was actual shame in his voice…I didn't see it ing。
No one did。
〃Oh； Jesus 。。。 〃 Micki shook her head； let this little revelation sink in。 Something horrible was on its way； and the entire spirit world had been caught unawares。 〃Jesus 。。。 〃 She didn't like the sound of this at all。
In the background； Gwen moaned and softly began to cry。
Build the circle； Bob…Ramtha urged。 Now。
It was five until three。
Forty…Eight
It was time for Jennie Quirez to face the facts。
He isn't ing。 An inescapable； killing admission。 Jennie； staring out the window at the human hell on earth。 He's not going to e for me。 Like trawling a lake for a loved one's body and…finally； horribly…hooking its stiff remains。
Austin is gone。 Hauling up the clammy； lifeless truth。
And he is never。 EVER。
ing back。
For me。
At the Mt。 Rose Amoco Shop 'N' Go…at the mouth of the mad； transmogrifying eastern valley…the last…minute exodus was in full swing。 There was an easily forty…car…long gas line on Mt。 Rose Avenue； extending all the way to the Route 74 exit。 For the last twenty minutes； there hadn't been less than forty cars in line。 All around them； panic…stricken traffic surged； squealed； careened； and roared。
Fleeing the descending dark。
And the new world already upon them。
Jennie crouched behind the console of the vandalized； desiccated Shop 'N' Go。 Its shelves had been picked clean by the second wave of insurgent wild…eyed refugees。 When the orange highway cones went down； she had locked the doors。 Turned off the lights。 Kept the pumps inconspicuously rolling。 It was the only way she could think of to deflect them； keep the mob from ing in and eating her alive。
She could no longer tell where the stain was or wasn't。 It wasn't inside…she'd made certain of that…but the whole of the drive and parking lot were fair game。 She watched for telltale screams and seizures at the pumps。 That she didn't see any felt almost like hope。
Many times； over the past forty minutes； she had thought about hopping a ride outta Dodge。 There was only one problem： eighty percent of them were already afflicted； or carrying someone who was。