Read The Fall for Free Online Page B

in tunnels, cellars…”
    “What does it mean?”
    “I don’t know the language.” He looked around. “But it seems to be pointing that way. See if one of those phones has any battery left. One with a camera.”
    Eph rooted through the top of the pile, trying phones and discarding the dark ones. A pink Nokia with a glow-in-the-dark Hello Kitty charm winked to life in his hand. He tossed it to Fet.
    Fet looked it over. “I never understood this fucking cat. The head is too big. How is it even a cat? Look at it. Is it sick with… with water inside it?”
    “Hydrocephalic, you mean?” said Eph, wondering where this was coming from.
    Fet ripped off the charm and tossed it away. “It’s a jinx. Fucking cat. I hate that fucking cat.”
    He snapped a picture of the crescent glyph illuminated by indigo light, then videoed the entirety of the manic fresco, overwhelmed by the sight of it inside this gloomy chamber, haunted by the nature of its trespass—and mystified as to its meaning.

    It was daylight when they emerged. Eph carried his sword and other equipment inside a baseball bag over his shoulder; Fet ported his weapons in a small rolling case that used to contain his exterminating tools and poisons. They were dressed for labor, and dirty from the tunnels beneath Ground Zero.
    Wall Street was eerily quiet, the sidewalks nearly empty. Distant sirens wailed, begging a response that would not come. Black smoke was becoming a permanent fixture in the city sky.
    The few pedestrians who did pass scurried by them quickly, with barely a nod. Some wore face masks, others shielded their noses and mouths with scarves—operating on misinformation about this mysterious “virus.” Most shops and stores were closed—looted and empty or without power. They passed a market that was lit but un-staffed. People inside were taking what was left of the spoiled fruit in the stalls in front, or canned goods from the emptying shelves in back. Anything consumable. The drink cooler had already been raided, as had the refrigerated foods section. The cash register was cleaned out as well, because old habits die hard. But currency was hardly as valuable as water and food would be soon.
    “Crazy,” muttered Eph.
    “At least some people still have power,” said Fet. “Wait until their phones and laptops run dry, and they find they can’t recharge. That’s when the screaming starts.”
    Crosswalk signs changed symbols, going from the red hand to the white figure walking, but without crowds to cross. Manhattan without pedestrians was not Manhattan. Eph heard automobile horns out on the main avenues, but only an occasional taxi traversed the side streets—drivers hunched over steering wheels, fares sitting anxiously in the back.
    They both paused at the next curb, out of habit, the crossing sign turning red. “Why now, do you think?” said Eph. “If they have been here so long, for centuries—what provoked this?”
    Fet said, “His time horizon and ours, they are not the same. We measure our lives in days and years, by a calendar. He is a night creature. He has only the sky to concern him.”
    “The eclipse,” said Eph suddenly. “He was waiting for that.”
    “Maybe it means something,” said Fet. “Signifies something to him…”
    Coming out of a station, a Transit Authority cop glanced at them, eyeing Eph.
    “Shit.” Eph looked away, but neither quickly nor casually enough. Even with the police forces breaking down, his face was on television a lot, and everybody was still watching, waiting to be told what to do.
    As they moved on, the cop turned away.
It’s just my paranoia,
Eph thought.
    Around the corner, following precise instructions, the cop made a phone call.

Fet’s Blog
    HELLO THERE , WORLD .
    Or what’s left of it.
    I used to think that there was nothing more useless than writing a blog.
    I was unable to imagine any greater waste of time.
    I mean, who cares what you have to say?
    So I don’t really know what