guess that meant I didn’t hold out much hope that the city itself would go back to normal, either. Everyone liked to talk about the changes as if they were temporary, but I doubt I was the only one who feared this might be the “new normal.”
But though logic told me it wasn’t realistic, there would always be a part of me that would stubbornly cling to hope. Which meant there was part of me that thought Piper could be saved—unless, of course, I killed her, in which case that hope would die with her.
I took a few deep breaths in a vain effort to calm my racing pulse.
There was no way I could do this. No way. I was contemplating cold-blooded murder, for God’s sake!
Murder of someone who murdered your dad, I reminded myself. Murder of someone who’s already tried to kill Dr. Gilliam once, and who you know is going to try to kill everyone you care about.
If Piper were out of the picture, then Luke and Dr. Gilliam and the rest of the family would be safe. Well, as safe as anyone could be in this city.
My shaking stilled, though I was still sweating and my stomach seemed to be turning backflips inside me. I swallowed hard a couple of times to keep my gorge down.
For all my angst, for all my resistance, for all of my doubts, I’d known as soon as the idea had popped into my head that I had found the one and only viable solution to the problem of Piper. The one and only way to stop her from picking off anybody and everybody I had left.
The prospect was daunting in the extreme. I doubted it would be hard to get to Piper—all I had to do was call the cell phone she had stolen and tell her I was ready to give up. I had no doubt she’d believe me, believe my capitulation was a direct result of the attack on Dr. Gilliam. She would meet me, and I would take my gun with me and shoot her dead. In theory, at least.
But meeting her would mean going outside at night. There were nasty constructs and packs of Nightstruck roaming the streets, and they might not care that I was only stepping outside to turn myself in. I might be sending myself on a suicide mission. Worse, I had no idea what made ordinary people turn Nightstruck, and there was always a chance that whatever it was might happen to me before I was able to carry out my plan. It obviously took more than just stepping outside during the night, because I’d done that on the night poor Mrs. Pinter was killed and I hadn’t been swept away. But without knowing what triggered the change, it would be hard to avoid it happening.
By going after Piper, I’d be taking all the same risks. But at least, with my plan, they were risks rather than certainties. And the likelihood that the Gilliams would be safe as a result was a lot higher.
I slipped out of bed and began quietly getting dressed. Because of her injuries, Dr. Gilliam was not at work tonight, which meant I was going to have to sneak out of the house. I knew she would try to stop me if she had any clue what I was planning. Hell, what sane person wouldn’t try to stop me? I could hardly believe what I was doing, and I almost talked myself out of it about a hundred times. But then I pictured Luke being restrained by some unseen creature while the demonic goat gored him, and I knew I couldn’t just let that happen, that I was the only one who could stop it.
Steeling myself against the terrible images that kept flashing through my mind, I placed a call to Piper.
* * *
Bob raised his head and wagged his tail weakly as I crept through the living room toward the front door. He was still half asleep, and I hoped he would ignore me and drift back off. Instead, he yawned hugely, lurched to his feet, and trotted over to me. No doubt he thought it was time for his morning walk, although he hadn’t been out in the dark for ages and there was still more than an hour left before sunrise.
I didn’t know why Piper had set our rendezvous so close to dawn. When I’d called her, I’d hoped it would all be over, one way