BZRK: Apocalypse (BZRK 3)

They had all tried to armor themselves against this final moment, but their defiance had been its own lie: there was never a choice between death and madness. It was always to be both.

And then, with a strangled cry in his throat, Noah attacked.

TWENTY-SIX

Lear watched, hands behind her back, lifting herself up on the balls of her feet, bouncing with anticipation. When she first saw the fire burst from the ground-floor windows and setting a passing man alight, she let out a happy squeal.

But then, when the Tulip still stood, she clenched her fists and began to curse. “Fucking useless old man. Useless old man,” she said. “Trying to say I killed her, and now look! Look!”

When Bug Man did not move from the couch, she took two long steps, reached down, grabbed the neck of his T-shirt, and dragged him to the window.

“Iff’ burning,” Bug Man said.

“It’s not supposed to burn, it’s supposed to explode! The gas was supposed to explode! The whole thing should be toppling over!”

The TV was on, showing a sea of flashing red lights around the theater, with cutaways to eerie vignettes of cops tackling a naked, raving rock star, or Tasering a man in a business suit carrying a severed arm, the remnants of the lunacy at the premiere.

“Blow up! Blow up, blow up, blow up, blow up!” Lear raged, banging the plate glass with her fists.

As if on command a huge fireball erupted from the windows of the third floor.

“It could still fall, yeah,” Lear said, nodding, reassuring herself. She bent to a tripod-mounted telescope. “Can’t see anything through their dark glass. Are you scared yet, you freaks? Are you wetting yourselves, you freaks?”

Bug Man had had enough, more than enough. He had to get away. He shot a look toward the door. Did she have guards out there? If she died, he went mad … if she was telling the truth about a dead man’s switch … but there wasn’t anything he could do about that, and he could not be here watching all this. He could not be with this crazy witch raving and pounding on the glass like an infuriated ape in a cage.

He stepped back, back, turned, and ran for the door. Locked.

“Really, Bug Man?” Lear asked in a mocking voice. “Really? You think you get to run away?”

“You ’ave to le’ me go,” he pleaded.

She ignored him and crowed wildly as another burst of orange flame billowed out from the base of the Tulip. “It’ll collapse. Has to. The fire will melt the girders, has to, yeah. Damn, I want to see them when it happens.”

“You coul’ talk to them.”

Lear’s eyes lit up. She grinned. “What?”

“I know Burnofsshky’s number. He’ prob’ly there. He worksh late.”

She grabbed Bug Man’s bicep and propelled him to a laptop. “Do it! Do it and I’ll … I’ll get you new teeth. Any color you want.”

Bug Man opened an app, punched in the number, and hit Connect.

Keats rushed at the Twins, hands clawing the air, animal noises coming from him.

Plath shoved Wilkes aside to put herself between Keats and his intended victims. Keats never seemed to notice her. He ran right through her, sending her sprawling.

It was on her back, stunned by the violence of his assault, that Plath—Sadie McLure—saw three security men turn, as if in slow motion, and raise their guns.

BANG! BANGBANG!

Keats twisted, turned, stood …

BANG! BANG!

… fell.

A terrible scream rose from her mouth, echoed by Wilkes as they both fell more than ran toward Keats.