Nocturnal: A Novel

fell, he had a glimpse of a man racing past — long black beard, white wife-beater, green baseball cap.

The man carried a hatchet.

By the time Rich hit the floor, the bearded man had closed in on Bobby. Bobby saw the man coming and turned to fire. The hatchet slid through the air.

Two shots, so close together they sounded like one.

The hatchet hit Bobby on the right side of his neck and drove down into his sternum. Rich would never forget that sound, that whiff-crunch sound of the blade digging home.

Rich scrambled to his knees. He raised his gun and fired, pop-pop, but watery eyes and wobbly hands threw off his aim. The bearded man gripped Bobby’s shoulders and turned fast, putting Bobby’s back toward Rich.

The tip of the hatchet stuck out between his partner’s shoulder blades.

That cut his heart in half.

The man yanked the hatchet free and stepped backward into the room, grabbing Bobby’s gun as he did.

Rich couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

Bobby’s right arm hung down low, swinging sickly from the gaping wound as if it had no bones at all. He took a single, short, staggering step, then his legs gave out. He fell face-first. Rich saw blood pour out of him, spreading across the wood floor.

That cut Bobby’s heart in half. You can’t help him. Get out. Get out. Get back up.

Rich found his feet under him, found himself backpedaling, right hand pointing his gun, left hand grabbing his radio.

“Eleven ninety-nine! Eleven ninety-nine! Officer down! Officer down at nine-twenty-nine Pacific, get me some fucking help, now!”

He backed out of the door and into the evening air.

Marco

Rex’s heart beat so fast. He looked at the bloody man standing in his bedroom. The man held a gun in one hand, a blood-dripping hatchet in the other. Two red spots dotted the chest of his white tank top, at least where Rex could see it beneath the tangled beard that hung down to the man’s belly. The man’s green baseball hat said JOHN DEERE in yellow letters.

Rex recognized him — the man from the street, the man who had tried to stop Rex from getting the bum’s change.

The bloody man should have seemed like a walking nightmare. He’d just killed a cop in Rex’s hallway. He had weapons. Rex had nowhere to run. But instead of feeling afraid, Rex felt a warmth blossom inside his chest, a vibration that went ba-da-bum-bummmm.

The vibration told Rex that everything would be okay. He just knew it.

“Hello,” the man said.

“Hi,” Rex said.

The man stared down. He looked nervous. “My name is Marco.”

“I’m Rex.”

The bearded man quick-peeked back into the hall. He nodded, as if satisfied with what he saw or didn’t see out there. He faced out the door, his hands in front of him. Was he …

Was he undoing his pants?

He was. Rex heard a quick trickle of pee hitting the body in the hall, then the man zipped up and turned back into the room.

“You peed on him?”

The bearded man nodded. “Yeah. Had to mark it, you know? Uh … I think you should maybe come with me.”

“Why?” And why wasn’t Rex afraid?

“Sly told me to watch over you,” Marco said. “I saved you from those cops. But cops are like bugs, there’s always more on the way.”

Sly. Rex knew that name. He had sketched it on one of his drawings.

“You’re very important,” the man said. “Please, come with me. I’ll take you home, to your family.”

Rex stared at the stranger. Family? That was crazy. His dad had died when Rex was little. Roberta was also dead — Rex had seen to that. That was his “family” … so why did Rex know this bearded stranger was telling the truth?

The man quick-peeked again. Seeing nothing in the hall, he continued. “We’ve waited a long time for you. A real long time. We can protect you.” The man pointed to Rex’s desk, to the drawing of Alex and Issac lying there. “We can protect you from them.”

Rex looked at his own drawing. He felt raw fury blossom up again, push out the good thoughts, the nice feelings.

“I hate them,” he said. “I want …”

“You want to what, my king?”

King?

Long live the king.

Rex stared at the stranger, looked into his eyes. In there, Rex saw love, acceptance and devotion.

“I want to kill them,” Rex said. “I want to see Alex and Issac die.”

The man smiled. “Then come with me.”

Rex felt a new sensation, one he knew from his dreams.

He felt the thrill of the hunt.

Rex made his decision. “Okay, let’s go. The backyard opens up into—”

“I know,” Marco said. “I’ve been watching.”

Marco’s hands moved faster than Rex could see, lifted him, tucked him under one blood-splattered arm like a running back tucking a football.

Rex’s old world rushed by in a blur.

He couldn’t wait to see his new one.

They moved through another alley, into yet another building’s dark basement. The fourth building so far, and Rex hadn’t seen a person in any of them. Marco moved like he knew the places, like he’d been through these paths a hundred times before.

They came out the other side of the basement into a strange space: long, narrow, filled with brown plastic trash cans and bits of garbage. Rex could see the sky through metal grates about ten feet above his head. Was he under a sidewalk or something? He didn’t have time to look because Marco moved fast. Rex followed, his shoes grinding damp dirt against the uneven concrete.

Two steps down on the right led to a dented metal door set in an old stone archway. On the door, Rex saw a shiny, new Master Lock. Had they hit a dead end?

Marco reached. Not for the door’s locked handle, but for the outside edges of the door’s frame. He slid his fingers between that frame and the stone arch surrounding it, then grunted as he swung the whole thing open. That was so smart — everyone would try the handle and find it locked; they wouldn’t think to move the whole door, frame and all. Even if someone did figure that out, they probably couldn’t budge it — it looked really heavy.

Marco stepped aside, holding the thing open for Rex.

“Through here, my king.”

Rex stepped through. Marco slid in after him, then pulled the door back into place, shutting off all light.

“It’s dark in here, but I know the way,” Marco said. “Hold my hand.”

Rex reached out. His tiny hand vanished inside of Marco’s. The man’s skin felt warm. His hand was rough and calloused. Marco gently pulled Rex along the dark, cramped tunnel.

Minutes later, Rex heard the grinding sound of an ill-fitted metal door opening against concrete. Marco pulled