e hell are you？〃
〃I can't tell you；〃 he said。 Hiss clung to his words like sargasso。
〃Don't play games with me！〃 Laura said。 〃Get your butt back in here； now！〃
〃I'll be back soon；〃 he said； his voice distant。 〃Trust me。 I'm on to something。〃
〃KIRK！〃 Laura yelled。 〃E BACK IN HERE RIGHT NOW！ KIRK！ YOU'RE FIRED！ KIRK！〃 The noise put an echoing trail on her words； mocking her。 〃KIRK 。。。 ！〃
But there was no answer from the other side。 Just the rippling echoes in the alien wall of noise。
Kirk switched the radio off； his bowels turned suddenly to water and slush。 〃I didn't hear that last part；〃 he said to himself。 〃The transmission broke up； and I couldn't make it out。〃
He figured if he said it another hundred times or so； it would start to sound like the truth。
But the fact was； he had heard it。 YOU'RE FIRED。 Just two little words； but they changed everything。 YOU'RE FIRED。 It was amazing； astonishing just how thoroughly they had clipped his strings； sucked the fire from his guts and the wind from his sails。
Suddenly； everything he'd done…from the day he entered broadcast school to the moment at hand…was ashes。 Cinders。 Confetti in flames。 There was nothing he could do to salvage his career now。 He had taken the gamble； and lost。
Big time。
The pain began to penetrate the protective cold that his mind had thrown up。 Pictures of the future began to unveil themselves； unbidden。 He could imagine the look on his old man's face when word of this got out。 He could imagine the way this would play on the industry dirtline。 He tried to imagine ever getting a job in broadcast media again； but that picture； for some reason； just wouldn't e clear。
〃I'm dead。〃 The voice barely registered as his own。 〃I'm dead。〃 Staring into his rearview mirror。 The face that stared back at him was a frightening grayish…white。
〃Oh； man；〃 he whimpered； slumping across the steering wheel with his crisscrossed arms shielding his forehead。 〃What the fuck am I gonna do now？〃
Kirk was not the only one in the grip of despair。 Back at 'PAL； Gary sat trapped at the editing console； dialing and redialing his house。 For roughly the fiftieth time； he got a little recorded voice； droning 〃 。。。 all of our circuits are temporarily busy。 Please try 。。。 〃
〃 。。。 your call again later； yeah； yeah。 Shit！〃 he muttered。 He slammed the phone into the cradle。 Somewhere up stairs； he could hear a telephone ringing； ringing； ringing。
〃HANG UP！〃 he bellowed。
It stopped。 Gary huffed in pained relief。 Before he could relish the silence； the phone rang again。 It had been this way for almost an hour； an endless upward spiral of fear and frustration。
Gary picked up the handset and punched in the number again。 He didn't know what else to do。 There was nothing else to do。
When the prerecorded operator's voice came on the line； he nearly punched a hole straight through the wall。
And at 911； things were getting worse by the minute。
Dottie Hamm had drained the last of her Big Gulp。
The straw rasped against the bottom； probing for stray droplets of lukewarm Coke。 She was down to her last Munchkin。 It was beginning to look like she'd never get any again。 Nor would she ever get to eat lunch。 In fact； she hadn't been able to leave her seat to so much as pee for the last three hours。
Dottie cast an anxious glance at Dave； who shrugged and rolled his eyes as his call screen lit up once again。 The calls that had started as a trickle were now a flash flood of near record…breaking weirdness。
Because the voices that clogged the lines were panic…voices； frantically spitting out tales of fear and delirium。
Worse yet； the callers Dottie checked out on her video monitor didn't display mile…long rap sheets of crankdom。
These were not your chronic paranoid freaks。 Most of them； before today； had never dialed 911 in their lives。
They were just folks： ordinary citizens calling in to say their trees were singing； saying their gardens had attacked them； or their dogs or kids had gone out to play and not e back。
Dottie was stumped。 They were just folks。 And they were scared。 Dottie didn't blame them one bit。 She knew a few things they didn't。
And she was getting a little scared herself。
Because it wasn't every day that you called in police from Hellam Township and Paradise County； two fire panies and HazMat； and have every single one of them disappear； now was it？
It vexed her。 One by one； she called them in。 One by one； they dropped right off the map。 She checked the lines again。 The signal path down to Hellam was a wall of white noise； nothing was ing from within ten miles of Black Bridge； on any frequency。
It's like the Bermuda Triangle popped up right in our own backyard； she mused。
And damn if it wasn't spreading。
〃Shame on you； Dottie；〃 she scolded。 She looked at the list of people to call in the event of just such an emergency。 Her bladder felt like a overfull water balloon； ripe and ready to burst。 She punched in the number； and waited。
This call was definitely a first。
She hoped to heaven it would be the last。
Thirty…Two
〃Ah…hah 。。。 Yes； I see 。。。 Yes； that is very strange。〃
Blake； still holed up in his study； paced and spoke softly into the phone。 〃Have you notified anyone else？〃
Blake's brow furrowed with concern； as every name punched another hole in an already leaky boat。 〃Hmm；〃 he said。 〃And HazMat did what？ Ah…hah。〃
His headache was back； a whanging pulse in the top of his skull。 〃Yes； I'll get right on it；〃 he said； fighting every urge to lash out。 He grasped the heavy obsidian glass paperweight that graced the corner of his desk and squeezed as hard as he could。
〃Yes；〃 he said； as crisp； angled edges cut into soft finger skin and the pain in his hand beat back the pain in his head。 〃Good job； Dottie。〃 He smiled thinly。 〃Keep me up…to…the…minute； will you？ Thanks so much。〃
Blake rang off and let go of the paperweight in a simultaneous release of stress。 A smear of blood slicked its surface。
〃Shit。〃 Blake hissed； pulling out his handkerchief。 He'd cut himself； alright； a thin laceration on the inside of the knuckle line。 His handshake hand； his deal…sealing hand。 But his headache had abated。 For now。
He wrapped the hanky around the cut and paced： thinking； thinking。
This was bad。 Correction： this was beyond bad。 This was a nightmare。 With Dottie's report of foul…smelling water； isolated dementia and blight ringing in his ears； he became increasingly convinced that some sort of hallucinogenic substance was involved in this chemical spill。
It was a horrifying thought； but he could think of no other explanation。 For his part； it would be nothing but bottled water and spirits for the duration。
Meanwhile； the odds on containment grew skimpier by the second。 While there was still time to be bought； Blake continued to plug holes； he sat down at his desk； flipped through his little oak Rolodex until he came to Huntington； Tom。 He punched in the number and waited。
Busy。
〃Shit！〃 he spat。 He hit the redial button。
Busy。
Blake cursed again and fed the number into the auto…dialer； punched send。 As the phone worked； Blake gazed pensively at his surroundings。 He could feel his window of opportunity narrowing； and his tastefully appointed digs were feeling more prisonlike by the second。
Finally； the phone caught； chiming a melodious little brrrr 。。。 brrrr 。。。 brrrr 。。。
〃Answer the phone； dammit；〃 Werner said into the mouthpiece。 Then； 〃Tom？ Werner Blake。 How are you； old man？〃 Reptile…smiling。 〃Great。 Listen； I just wanted to call and keep you apprised of a situation mat's developed。〃
Blake opened up his hand； studying the Rorschach…pattern of blood staining the white linen hanky。 〃Well； nothing too serious； we hope； but we're still scoping it out 。。。 〃
He nodded his head； the picture of corporate concern。 〃Of course。 But handled wrong； this could impact adversely on mutual friends。 We'd like to treat this with some sensitivity； not start a flap over nothing 。。。 〃 Nod； nod。
One down； he thought。 Tom Huntington was nothing if not a team player。 Blake relaxed behind the game； on auto…pilot now。 He could finish this conversation in his sleep。 〃Ah…hah；〃 he said。
For some strange reason； even as he spoke； Rio kept ing to mind。 Blake closed his eyes and could picture it： lush mountains； tropical beaches； incredibly beautiful women； a favorable exchange rate； and a government sympathetic to economic opportunity 。。。
〃Umm 。。。 Dad？〃
Blake's daydream vaporized instantly； the voice behind him made him turn。 A long tall black…and…white apparition hunkered in the doorway； the weight of the world on its shoulders。
〃Not now；〃 Blake soundlessly mouthed； impatiently waving him off。
The apparition was unmoved。 〃You plan on getting off the phone； like； ever？〃
〃Hang on just a second 。。。 thanks；〃 Blake said pleasantly into the mouthpiece。 Then he cupped it in his hand and glared venomously at his pride and joy； his progeny。
As father and son faced off： each the other's worst nightmare； made flesh。
Garth