A Darkness in my Soul by Dean R. Koontz

she would love me—and later that she would not.

How foolish I had been at the party, weeks ago, when

she had been pointed out to me and when, later, she

seemed to take interest in me, looking my way, smiling,

doing all the things a woman can do. I had bolted. I had

left the party even before anyone asked for parlor tricks,

and I had hidden in my house, pretending I had not been

interested in her. Foolish. I was so much older then—but

I am younger than that now.

A band of peace criers had gathered before a precinct

house, for some unfathomable reason. They had stoned

the windows. A phalanx of coppers was charging down

the steps as I went by.

At a red light two blocks on, a stream of young mili-

tants burst from an alleyway to the right, half a block

down a side street. They were chanting something, though

I could not make out what it was. Behind them, a howler

roared into view, its cupola roof narcodart gun cutting

down the young people as they cursed the government, the

enemy government, and anyone else who came to mind.

Before the light turned, I saw the howler roll over a

young girl, snapping her back like kindling. That was not

standard procedure, by any means. And before I could

chalk it up to an accident, the driver of the armored

vehicle rammed a boy no older than seventeen, crushed

him against the steel pole of an arc lamp, and moved on.

I went through the light to avoid the uproar.

I had to detour around the elevated highway ramp I

had intended to use, for there were several hundred peo-

ple on it, setting up roadblocks in a display of civil

disobedience. I noticed that for the first time there were

adults with the peace criers. In fact, it seemed that there

were more adults than young people.

I took the next ramp, went up, and struck for AC at

my top speed. In the time since I had heard the morning

news, what could have happened to open the adult ranks

like this? My heart beat too fast, and I felt a gnawing

urgency to do something, anything. But what?

The only thing I could do was esp Child, find new

weapons, make our side stronger so that, if there was a

war, we would win and at least a semblance of normality

would return in which Melinda and I could carve our own

niche and be alone.

I suppose such an attitude was not noble. But war itself

leaves no room for nobility. Only the clever survive. And

not always do they survive intact

By the time I reached the government building, I had

made my decisions. I loved Melinda. I feared Child. He

could throw me out—and perhaps he could swallow me

up. There was something behind his repeated warnings to

leave his thoughts alone. Something to do with the G

association I had chanced upon the day before—

something to do with God. I could not sacrifice myself in

that strong, mutated subconscious. Yet I could not permit

the war and its destruction to touch my life, to end the

first warm relationship I had ever had with a woman. Life

was only now worthy of living. I could not permit the

Chinese to snatch it away from me. So I would go in his

mind this last time, rip loose everything that I found and

send it up. Then I would get out, collect my cash, and

beat a hasty retreat. I would tell them first thing when I

got there: after this, the job is ended, go in peace.

As with most plans, nothing went that way.

They were waiting for me when I got there. Morsfagen

was the center of a flurry of dispatches. Messengers boys

came and departed, carrying sheafs of paper. He signed

and checked and rejected, and somehow managed to keep

track of what was going on with Child at the same time.

Harry fidgeted nervously with his hands, tearing at his

fingers as if they were detachable. There were bags under

his eyes; the old tic had reappeared in his left cheek; his

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