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12:19

12:18

And then suddenly he felt a claw clutch the back of his head and push it roughly against the floor. The weight on his back increased.

Time for the kill.

Swain saw the Zippo. On the floor. Within reach.

The Karanadon lowered its head.

Swain quickly grabbed the lighter and held it to the lowest shelf of the bookcase and then he shut his eyes and prayed to God that once, just once, Jim Wilson's stupid frigging lighter would work.

He flicked the cartwheel.

The lighter ignited for half a second, and that was all Swain needed.

A dust-covered book next to the Zippo burst instantly into flames, right in front of the Karanadon.

The big beast roared as the fire flared in front of its head, the bristled fur on its forehead catching alight. It pulled back instantly, releasing Swain, clutching desperately at its flaming brow.

Swain rolled immediately and in one swift movement, removed the wristband from his wrist, reached for the Karanadon's foot and clasped the band around one of the beast's enormous toe-claws.

The wristband clicked into place around the toe.

Clasped.

And then Swain was up. On his feet, running. He scooped up Holly, grabbed the Glock from the floor nearby and raced for the massive glass doors of the library's entrance. Behind him he could hear the wails and roars of the Karanadon.

He came to the doors, threw them open.

And saw about a dozen cars with revolving lights on their roofs parked out front. And men with rifles. Running toward him through the rain.

The National Security Agency.

'It's the police, Daddy. They're here to save us!'

Swain grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the doors, toward the stairwell.

'I don't think those policemen are here to help us, honey,' Swain said as they ran. 'Remember what happened to Eliot's house in E.T.? Remember how the bad guys put a big plastic bag around it?'

They were running hard. Almost at the stairwell now.

'Yeah.'

Swain said, 'Well, the people who did that are the same people who are outside the library now.'

'Oh.'

They came to the stairwell and started down the stairs.

Swain stopped.

He could hear voices... and shouts... and heavy footfalls coming from downstairs.

The NSA were already inside.

They must have come in through the parking lot.

'Quickly. Upstairs. Now.' Swain pulled Holly back up the stairwell.

They climbed the stairs.

And as they ran past the fire door leading to the Ground Floor, they heard the loud smashing sound of breaking glass, followed by more voices and shouts.

----ooo0ooo------

Swain shut the door behind him.

They were inside the photocopying room on the First Floor.

'Quickly,' he said to Holly, guiding her toward the Internet room, 'through there.'

They entered the Internet Facility of the New York State Library and Swain walked directly over to one of the windows on the far side.

It opened easily and he leaned out.

They were on the western side of the building. Beneath him, Swain could see the grassy park that surrounded the library. It was a fifteen-foot drop from the window to the grass down below.

He spun around and looked up at the wires hanging down from the ceiling.

'Daddy,' Holly said, 'what're we doing?'

'We're getting out,' Swain said, reaching up for the ceiling, yanking on some of the thick black wires.

'How?'

'Through the window.'

'Through that window?'

'Yep,' Swain yanked some more wires out from various other outlets. He began to tie them together, end to end.

'Oh,' Holly said.

Swain walked over to the open window again and with the butt of his gun, broke the glass. Then he tied the end of the length of wire around the window's now-exposed horizontal pane and knotted it tight.

He looked back to Holly.

'Come on,' he said, jamming the gun back into his waistband.

Holly stepped forward tentatively.

'Jump on my back and hold tight. I'll climb us both down to the ground.'

Just then, they heard shouts from inside the First Floor. Swain listened for a second. They sounded like directions, orders. Someone telling someone else what to do. The NSA were still searching. He wondered what had happened to the Karanadon. They mustn't have found it yet.

'Okay, let's go,' he said, helping Holly onto his back, piggyback style. She gripped him firmly.

Then he threw the length of wire out the window and began to climb out onto the ledge.

'Sir?' a static-ridden voice said.

James Marshall picked up his radio. He was now standing outside the main entrance to the library. The majestic glass doors in front of him were now shattered and broken, totally destroyed by the NSA's bold entry only minutes earlier.

It was the radio operator in the van.

'What is it?' Marshall said.

'Sir, we have visual confirmation, I repeat, visual confirmation, of contact on two floors. One in the lower parking structure and one on the Ground Floor.'

'Excellent,' Marshall said. 'Just tell everyone not to touch anything until I say so. Sterilisation procedures are in force. Anyone who comes within twenty feet of one of those organisms will be presumed to be contaminated and quarantined indefinitely.'

'Roger that, sir?'

'Keep me informed.'

Marshall switched the radio off.

He rubbed his hands together and looked up at the burning library above him. It was the building that would skyrocket his career.

'Excellent,' he said again.

Swain dropped to the grass and set Holly down beside him.

They were out.

At last.

It was raining more heavily now. Swain looked for an escape. They were near the south-west corner of the building. He remembered coming out of the subway before. Over on the eastern side of the library.

The subway.

Nobody would care if they saw him on the subway -- his clothes ragged and torn, Holly's not much better.