The Shambling Guide to New York City (37 page)

Still, she ran as fast as her battered body would allow her. Lucy’s eyes were still closed as she concentrated on making the towering monster above them. As much as Zoë hated to go for the girl-fight stereotype, as she neared Lucy she reached out with her good arm and grabbed a handful of Lucy’s sleek hair.

The zoëtist’s eyes flew open and the pounding steps that followed Zoë faltered. Lucy’s head snapped back and she fell backward as Zoë yanked again. Lucy splayed her arms to avoid being dragged, and Zoë continued to pull.

“Call them off!” Zoë shouted. “Or else your own creation is going to stomp you into the ground.”

“Get off me, you slut,” Lucy hissed, trying to pry Zoë’s fingers from her hair.

“Make me. When that thing comes to step on us, I’m sure I’ll let you go.”

The plane golem had faltered briefly as Lucy lost concentration, but soon regained its footing. It stomped its slow way toward them while above them all the golem of the city howled again as it continued to form. Zoë could see frightened faces at
the windows of the plane, and she realized she had no idea of how to deal with them.

No no no no no no—
She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the chanting in her head.

Then Zoë saw a slight movement in the cockpit of the plane. The blood splattered across the windshield changed as a hand passed over it, and the golem stopped in its tracks. Whatever magic was holding the plane balanced on baggage carts left it, and the legs buckled, the carts no longer able to support the tons of weight of the plane. Lucy let out a strangled cry as Zoë let her go and they ran away from the falling plane.

It hit the ground with a massive crash, and Zoë couldn’t spare a moment to see if the people inside were all right. Lucy had made it free of the plane as well, and stood, murderous eyes on Zoë. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn’t see Granny Good Mae coming. The old woman kicked the zoëtist in the face, launching her backward.

“Good. Backup,” Zoë said, and ran to the plane’s emergency doors.

Phil sped toward Lucy, who was being pummeled by Granny Good Mae.

The doors at either end of the plane opened and frightened people tumbled out, shaken and weeping. Some—the idiots—carried their luggage; others just jumped.

Arthur and Zoë managed to get under the doors and attempt to catch some of the people as they jumped out, but realized they were likely doing more harm than good—especially to their own injuries—so they stepped aside and just tried to help pick up people who had fallen.

Finally the yellow slide was lowered by two ashen-faced attendants, and the first person down was—

“Benjamin?” Zoë said in shock. The little man was covered in blood, but it didn’t look as if much of it were his own.

Still, he looked exhausted. “Only she would make a golem with only
mem
and
tav
.” They looked at him blankly. “Death. It means death. Usually ‘death’ makes a golem deactivate. But she’s on another level. They were on the inside of the windshield in blood. Someone had to get in there to change it.” He raised his bloody hand and smiled weakly.

“How the hell did you get up there?” Arthur asked, trying to support the zoëtist as he sagged.

“I made a flying golem,” Benjamin said, mumbling into Arthur’s shoulder like a drunken buddy. “Never done that before. It took a lot out of me.”

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” Arthur said.

“Where’s the bitch?” Benjamin said. “Didja get her?”

Arthur winced as the city above them shrieked again, sounding like amplified sirens, and took a step forward that took it half the width of the park. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

If Zoë had been hoping that Benjamin could give them some insight into how to stop a golem made from a city, she was disappointed as the man slumped against Arthur, utterly spent.

Granny Good Mae screeched so loudly that the strain on her vocal cords was obvious. “Emergency exit, emergency exit.”

Zoë heard the words repeated in her head, but was confused, as the flight attendants had already exited the plane. The people from the plane walked into the park, supporting one another, and once they saw the other golem—Public Works was going to have a hell of a time doing damage control on this—the only people left were Arthur, the unconscious Benjamin, Zoë, and Morgen. Gwen had to be nearby, as sparrows flew in a flock above them, highlighted by the December moon.

Granny Good Mae sat on Lucy’s chest, but instead of attacking
her, she chanted, “Emergency exit. Emergency exit!” until Phil dragged her off.

“Everyone got off the plane, more or less OK, Mae,” Morgen said behind her. “Don’t worry about them. We have bigger problems.”

The ground shook as the city golem took another step, crushing trees beneath its massive weight. Sirens shrieked in the city as emergency crews approached. A helicopter buzzed overhead.

Zoë shook her head. She could hear it more clearly now. “No. She is talking to the golem. It’s looking for a way out.”

“Out?”

“Lucy didn’t do a very good job. The city’s pissed at being forced into a body like that. It’s in agony.” The golem shrieked again and turned, every step tearing great holes in the ground.

“Oh, that’s all we need. A crazy golem the zoëtist can’t control,” Arthur said.

“Well, kill the zoëtist and it should stop the golem,” Morgen said.

Arthur nodded. “That’s what a vampire and apparently a martial arts master are trying to do. And failing.”

Lucy had conjured another tree golem to protect her, and it knocked Granny Good Mae and Phil away as they tried to lunge toward her. Lucy looked bad, blood streaming down her face and one eye swollen shut.

“How come Chet hasn’t taken a shot?” Zoë asked, spying their friend aiming at Lucy from behind the tail of the plane.

“He’s got a bump on the head, it’s dark, and there are three humanoids there. What if he misses?” said Arthur.

“No, two,” Zoë said. Granny Good Mae had left the fight to Phil and was running behind the plane.

Zoë followed and found her sitting on the ground, rocking and babbling. She put her hand on the woman’s head, and Granny Good Mae stilled.

“Granny, what’s going on? Are you talking to the city?”

“You are too. She told me.”

Zoë bit her lip. “Tell me about this.”

“Whispers. They have always been whispers. Go here. Do this. At night it told me stories of the people here. Coterie. The animals. The rats.” She smiled. “There have been many stories about the rats.”

“Really,” Zoë said, her voice faint.

“It sang to me, sometimes,” Granny Good Mae’s voice was far away. “Quiet lullabies that sounded like the wind sliding over water. Sometimes I could hear what the city had to say. Sometimes I could only guess. The whispers were always so quiet.”

Her gaze hardened as she looked at the golem, the bastardization of her beloved city. “But not now. Now she’s awake, confused and frightened. She’s shoved into a small body, an uncomfortable body. And there was the woman, the tiny woman who told her what to do.”

Zoë knew what Granny Good Mae was going to say next, knew it as the words appeared in her mind. “And she doesn’t like that.

“You know. You know. She said you would know. She said you were like me. Just. Like. Me.” The sixtysomething homeless assassin looked at Zoë eagerly, and the moment was quite surreal, having something so strange and personal in common with this woman.

“But I don’t hear her like you do. I don’t even know—”

“You will. She likes you.”

“But I’ve never had an experience like this. Why didn’t I hear Raleigh? I lived there all my life.”

Granny Good Mae shrugged. “It probably didn’t like you.”

They turned to watch the city golem slowly trudge away from them, heard the sharp cracks as some idiot tried to shoot at a
monster made of concrete and steel, and Zoë wondered how the hell they could stop it.

Stop Lucy. It all went back to that.

The zoëtist was weakening. Her defensive golem was falling apart. Phil was attacking the tree and split the willowy trunk in two, leaving it floundering in the grass. He darted in and was able to grab Lucy’s shoulders and take her down. In an instant he was seated on Lucy’s waist and over her neck. Zoë turned away: her boss seemed animalistic as he fed on Lucy. Just as when he had fed from Godfrey, he seemed like a dog over a food bowl, gorging and growling and daring anyone else to steal from him.

“It’s best if you don’t watch,” Morgen said, appearing at her side.

“It’s over now, right?” Zoë asked. “The big thing should just fall apart.”

“I would think so,” Arthur said.

The howling in Zoë’s head didn’t stop.

No no no no no no no exit exit exit—

The golem still trudged away from them, reaching the street and stomping on cars. As the messy, slurping sounds behind Zoë ceased, the golem did not fall apart as the plane golem had. In contrast, it seemed to gain strength and speed, heading toward Manhattan.

“Phil?” Zoë’s voice sounded shrill to her own ears. “Is she dead yet?”

Her boss appeared at her side. Blood dripped from his chin and his eyes glowed a faint red. She swallowed her revulsion and her desire to take a step back from him.

He wiped his chin with the heel of his hand and licked the stray blood casually. “She’s gone.”

“You didn’t turn her or anything, did you?”

“Yes, because that’s what we need—a megalomaniacal zoëtist
vampire. There’s a reason they’re human—undead don’t have the life force to control golems. And demons just don’t bother to learn the arts.”

“Then why is her golem wandering away? Do you think it wants to see a show?” Zoë pointed to the departing spirit of the city wrapped in cars, buses, construction materials, and a small library.

“I don’t know. We need to get Benjamin on it. Where is he?”

“I think he and Arthur were taking care of the airplane passengers. Who have all run away in terror, by the way.” Zoë winced as a large crash resonated from the direction of the golem. “We can’t let it get away.”

“Get Gwen to follow it. I will ask Benjamin about it.” He ran off toward the airplane.

“Gwen? Where the hell has she been, anyway?” Zoë called after him.

“Watching Granny Good Mae,” Morgen said, pointing at the sparrows, which had taken over a small cherry tree, making it look fully leafed out in December.

Zoë shivered involuntarily. Gwen appeared beside her, looking, like Phil, full of power and life. “Phil wants you to track the golem. The zoëtist is dead but we don’t know why it’s still going.”

The death goddess nodded once. “I haven’t fed this well in years. It’s my pleasure.”

Zoë shuddered again, trying to get used to looking at the world from a nonhuman perspective. Of course the potential for deaths went up with a huge golem wandering around the city. This was a smorgasbord for her. She took to the skies, transforming into a sparrow and disappearing into her flock, circling once and then heading into the city after the golem.

Zoë and Morgen went to find Arthur and Ben. Granny Good
Mae sat against the plane, holding her head in her hands. She crooned softly to herself.

Ben was supported by Chet, and seemed drunk. “Leave me alone. I got the plane down safely. I’m a hero.” His eyelids drooped.

Phil slapped him. He jerked awake. “Listen to me, little man. The golem is still alive even though the zoëtist is dead. How is this happening?”

He staggered away from Chet and put his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “That golem. She put the spirit of the city inside it. I’ve heard of attempts to do that, but not sure if it ever worked.”

“I’m not sure it worked now,” Phil said. “The city is destroying itself.”

“Emergency exit!” Granny Good Mae keened.

“It worked,” Zoë said.

Phil looked sharply at her. “What did she say?”

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “She’s been babbling about emergency exits since the plane came down.”

“You idiot,” Ben said, blinking. “She’s speakin’ for th’ city at this point. Wants a way out. S-scared.”

“Out? Where would it go?”

“It wants free of its body, I expect,” Chet said.

“Can you free it?” Phil asked Benjamin.

He shook his head. “I can’t raise a golem the size of a cat at this moment.” He held his hand flat above the ground and some dirt and grass swirled weakly in a tiny tornado, and then died back down.

“Wait a moment,” Phil said. “I felt something. Do that again.”

Benjamin took a step back. “Did you feed off of Lucy?”

“Yes.”

Benjamin glanced at each of them and then looked at the ground. “I shouldn’t say. It’s forbidden.”

Phil slapped him again. “Whatever you’re protecting can’t be as important as saving the city. We’re about to lose everything here. Everything. The balance between humans and coterie, the very spirit of the city. I don’t know what happens to a city if its spirit dies, but I don’t want to find out.”

“If an undead feeds on a zoëtist, he will get her life force—and powers—for a limited amount of time. So I can’t raise anything to help stop that golem.” He swallowed. “But you can.”

Phil kept his vampiric composure, but Zoë was sure his red eyes widened slightly.

“So we have a strong zoëtist on our side again,” Zoë said. “What do we do?”

All of them but Phil, who was focusing on his hands, turned to Granny Good Mae, who was still muttering to herself.

“Emergency exit, keep your head between your knees, and in the case of a water landing, kiss your ass good-bye,” she said, her eyes glassy.

Arthur laughed dryly. “Of course. Like all coterie, it’s wanting to go somewhere safe. Somewhere underground. Somewhere it won’t hurt itself. It needs to be herded, though. It’s too crazy.”

Morgen grinned. “Smart city. It wants the water.”

Zoë frowned. “That would be the Reservoir?”

“But it’s walking into the city, parallel to the Reservoir. We have to make it turn ninety degrees,” Chet said. “If it steps on MoMA, we’re in a heap of shit. You do not want to wake up what’s sleeping in there.”

Zoë shook her head. This was insane. And what she was about to suggest was even more so. She looked at Arthur. “Does Public Works have power over the subways? I mean, if I told you to get everyone off the subways, can you do it?”