THINK YOUR WORLD WILL DO JUST FINE. OF COURSE, I’VE HAD TO HIRE SOME… I GUESS YOU’D CALL THEM MOVERS. OR KEEPERS. A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME, BLAH-BLAHBLAH. I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG THIS WILL TAKE, GIL-RAW MATERIAL BEING SO DIFFICULT TO COME BY-BUT THINGS ARE WELL UNDER WAY. THE TEAR IN THE GREAT SCRIM IS GETTING WIDER EVERY DAY. NICE TO KNOW I STILL HAVE A FEW TRICKS UP MY SLEEVE IN THE MEANTIME. WHICH REMINDS ME-YOU MIGHT WANT TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO YOUR “NEPHEW” NOW.
Carson dropped the comic book.
He was shuddering; from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet, he was shuddering as if in the grips of a grand-mal seizure.
“Jesus- Carson! What’s wrong? ”
I moved toward him but he screamed and waved me back.
Outside the barn, I could hear the roaring of lions, the trumpeting of elephants, the growling of bears, the barking of dogs, the screams of loons. The walls shook as the animals began pressing against them from outside, clawing at the wood.
In the back of the barn, a massive shadow moved as Carson’s scale model of Long-Lost took its first few tentative steps.
Carson screamed again.
He collapsed to his knees as his face began tearing in half, he felt it- I felt it, felt every sensation chewing through his body and there was nothing I could do-felt the fire burning through his nose as he struggled to his feet and stumbled away from me, hoping that it was all over now, please let it be over, please let this be the last of it, but then his face began swelling around forehead and nose, swelling like a goddamn balloon, so he looked away, looked down at his hand and saw it pulsating through layers of dried mud, felt the cold thing crawling between his shoulders again, eyes twitching, and then his face split apart like someone tearing a biscuit in half, only there was no steam, just blood, spraying, spattering, geysering around, and he tried to look behind him and see the animals as they clawed against the walls of the barn, tried to see me, tried to see if UncGil was still there, but the pain was killing him because the cold thing shuddered down between his shoulders and began to push through, snapping his shoulder blades like they were thin pieces of bark, and he screamed, screamed and whirled and slammed himself into the wall trying to stop the pain, trying to stop the thing from getting out, but he stunned himself for a moment and slid down to the floor, leaving a wide, dark smear behind him, howling as the first thing sawed through his back and fluttered to life, he was on his hands and knees now, waiting, trying to breathe, breathe deep, and now, OHGOD now the second one was tearing through, making a sound like a plastic bag melting on a fire, pushing through, unfurling, and he could see them now because their span must have been at least fifteen feet, and he threw his head back to cry out, but he couldn’t make any more human sounds, so he screamed, screamed so loud and long that his eyes bulged out and his face turned a dark blue and then his scream turned into the wail of an angry bird of prey as his body jerked back into a standing position, his arms locking bent, his hands clenching, every muscle in his body on fire; writhing, shifting, bones snapping, he shrieked in the cage of the barn as his chest puffed out through his shirt and covered in thick layers of brown feathers and the flesh dropped from his body like peelings from an orange and he tried to move his arms, tried to grab something, then he jerked around from the waist and his arms dropped off, brittle branches from a burned tree, and he yowled again, louder than before, wishing that the pain would end and just let him die, then he fell back on his great wings and looked up into my face, into my eyes, and for a moment I thought I heard his voice whispering, I’m as much a part of you as you are of me , and then something snapped below his waist; snapped, wriggled, pushed up.
With one last shriek he jerked back as the spasm took hold of him, pushing the corded claws up through his groin.
And I stood facing a huge brown marsh hawk that stood nearly as tall as I did. It flexed its wings, then shook itself, spraying the walls with ribbons of meat and liquid that had once been my nephew.
I looked into its red marble eyes, then began backing toward the door.
The gigantic hawk that had once been my nephew stomped through the barn, its massive wings unfurling, making splinters out of the stall doors and rafters.
I turned and ran.
Outside, animals had gathered off to the side to watch.
Rhino, elephant, manticore, bear, gryphon, lion, centaur, cat, swan, and so many others I couldn’t see their features.
They had no interest in me.
They were watching the barn behind me as its roof splintered outward.
I heard a roar, and a screech, and the vibrations of something very, very large working its limbs back into life.
I ran across the field, not looking back, cutting myself on tree branches when the light of the moon was obscured by massive wings.
Somehow, I made it to my car and managed to get back on the road without killing anyone.
It never once occurred to me to go anywhere else but home.
Above me, the shadows of giant wings seemed to guide my path.
Or watch to make certain I didn’t try deviating from it.
III
ONE
I pulled up in front of my house, killed the engine, and ran inside, slamming the door closed behind me and locking it.
The sound of massive, pumping wings flew over the house. The force of the downdraft from them shattered a couple of windows.
I leaned against the door, shaking.
Jesus Christ, what now?
It wasn’t long before I had the answer.
A pair of bright headlight beams cut a path through the darkness. I pulled back the curtain to see a large tan vehicle shaped like an old bread-delivery truck crawl past my house, its driver sweeping the street with a handheld searchlight. The truck came to a stop and the driver killed all lights. It took my vision a moment to adjust afterward-the light had shone directly in my face at one point-and by the time I could focus clearly the driver was out of the truck and looking in my yard. It was already dark so I wondered how he could see.
He adjusted a strap on something he’d just put on his face, then reached up and hit a switch between his eyes. It wasn’t actually between his eyes, of course, but that’s how it looked. I caught a flash of a small green light glowing where the bridge of his nose should be and realized that he’d just donned and activated a pair of night- vision goggles. I wondered if they were Starlight technology like the scopes soldiers used in Vietnam. I wondered how expensive they were and how Cedar Hill Animal Control could afford such high-tech gear.
An SUV came around the corner, its headlights shining on high, enabling me to both see the driver and read the name on the side of the truck.
Neither came as a surprise.
He was impeccably dressed, expensive suit, tie, bowler hat on his head.
The side of the truck read: KEEPERS.
Still, my legs began to buckle, my chest felt tight, and my heart once again tried to squirt through my ribs; my breath came up short as I pressed my back against the wall and slid to the floor, a hand over my mouth.
I held my breath, listening to his footsteps as Magritte-Man made his way up the walk, then to one side of
