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"No. It's really not," said a voice.
Ford turned. Buffy was coming down the steps.
Ford's face hardened. He glanced at Diego, and murmured, "It's kind of drafty in here."
Diego sidled off as Buffy drew near.
* * *
Buffy knew she had to keep her wits about her, but she was hurt and angry as she stopped on the stairs
to look down on Ford. Still, she hid it all inside. She had gotten very good at that.
"I'm sorry, Ford," she said airily, moving down again. "I just couldn't wait until tonight. I'm rash and
impulsive. It's a flaw."
Ford shrugged. "We all have flaws."
"I'm still fuzzy on exactly what yours is." She reached the floor and faced her old friend. "I think it has to
do with being a lying scumbag."
"Everybody lies."
"What do you want, Ford? What's this all about?" she asked.
"I really don't think you'd understand."
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"I don't need to understand. I just need to know." And she was not requesting information; she was
demanding it.
He said, "I'm going to be one of them."
She digested that. "You want to be a vampire."
"I'm going to," he said.
"Vampires are kind of picky about who they change." And then it hit her: "You were going to offer them
a trade." She was shocked beyond words. Her old friend had been planning her death.
Ford said, "I don't think I want to talk anymore."
Buffy grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall, hand against his throat. "Well, I still feel awfully
chatty. You were going to give them me. Tonight."
"Yes," he said gruffly, his vocal cords constricted by her grip.
"You had to know I'd figure it out, Ford."
Ford smiled. "Actually, I was counting on it." He started laughing, then coughing, then wheezing as he
grinned at her.
She stepped back, wary, and let him go. He kept laughing and coughing. It gave her a wiggins. "What's
supposed to happen tonight?"
"This is so cool! This is just like it played in my head. The part where you ask me what's supposed to
happen it's already happening."
The big door slammed shut. Immediately Buffy raced up the stairs to it and pulled. She couldn't open it.
There was no doorknob and no other way to open it.
She turned around to face Ford. He was halfway up the stairs, the others grouped around him like some
macabre class picture.
"Rigged it up special," he told her. "Once it's closed, it can only be opened from the outside. As soon as
the sun sets, they'll be coming."
Buffy appealed to him. "Ford, if these people are still around when they get here "
The guy in the blue cape said, "We'll be changed, all of us."
"We're going to ascend to a new level of consciousness," the blond bimbo, Chantarelle, explained.
"Become like them, like the Lonely Ones."
"This is the end, Buffy." Ford's face was set, determined, his smile a mask. "No one gets out of here
alive."
Buffy raced down the stairs, looking for an alternate exit. Ford was on her heels.
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She said, "There's gotta be a way out of here."
"This is a bomb shelter, Buffy," Ford told her as she pulled back a black velvet curtain and found a
bricked-in doorway. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to overpower you. But this is three feet of solid
concrete. Trust me when I say we're here for the long haul."
"At least let the other people go," Buffy said.
"Why are you fighting this?" Chantarelle asked her. "It's what we want."
"It's our chance for immortality," Cape Guy added.
"This is a beautiful day!" Chantarelle went on. "Can't you see that?"
Buffy shot back, "What I can see is that right after the sun goes down, Spike and all of his friends are
going to be pigging out at the all-you-can-eat moron bar."
Cape Guy said, "Okay. That's it. I think we should gag her."
Buffy gave him a look possessed only by Slayers. "I think you should try."
Cape Guy persisted, "She's an unbeliever. She taints us."
"I am trying to save you," Buffy insisted. "You're playing in some serious traffic here, do you understand
that? You're going todie. And the only hope you have of surviving is to get out of this pit right now and,
my God, could youhave a dorkier outfit?"
Cape Guy looked hurt.
Ford smiled. "I've got to back her up, D. You look like a big ninny."
A little alarm went off. Ford dug into his pocket and pulled out a pager. He smiled triumphantly.
"Six twenty-seven," he announced. "Sunset."
Sunset.
As Spike's people assembled for the hunt, he called out his instructions. "When we get there, everybody
spread out. Two men on the door. First priority is the Slayer. Everything else is fair game, but let's
remember toshare, people."
He went over to Dru. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I want a treat," she said, her head lolling. "I need a treat."
"And a special one you'll have." He gathered up her hair and smiled into her beautiful face. Their
bloodlust rose in one rhythm. It was astonishing how much he loved this girl.
"Lucius!" Spike held up a set of keys. "Bring the car around."
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Buffy was still trying to find a way out. She raced back up the stairs and felt around the knobless door.
Ford said, "Man, you never give up, do you?"
"No, I don't," Buffy replied.
"That's a good quality in a person. Too many people, they just lay back and take it. But us "
"Us? We have something in common now?" She walked around the balcony. Ford followed her.
"More than you'd think," Ford told her.
"Okay, let me explain something to you," Buffy said, whirling on him. "You're what we call the bad guy."
"I guess I am," he said, as if he hadn't thought of that before, but he liked it nonetheless.
She looked down at his friends in their ruffles and black lipstick, milling around and wondering what was
going to happen next. "These people aren't going to get changed, are they? The rest of them, they're just
fodder."
"Technically, yes. But I'm in. I will become immortal." He wasn't even ashamed to say it.
She flared. "I've got a newsflash for you, brain-trust. That's not how it works. You die. And a demon
sets up shop in your old house. And it walks and talks and remembers your life, but it's not you."
He looked away for a moment, then back at her. "It's better than nothing," Ford said.
Buffy was shocked. "And your life is nothing?" He laughed bitterly. "Ford, these people don't deserve to
die."
"Neither do I!" he flung at her. His voice broke. "But apparently nobody took that into consideration,
because I'm still dying."
She blinked.
"I look good, don't I? Let me tell you something. I've got maybe six months left and by then what they
bury won't even look like me. It'll be bald and shriveled and it'll smell bad. I'm not going out that way."
She turned away.
"I'm sorry, Summers. Did I screw up your right eous anger riff? Does the nest of tumors liquefying my
brain kind of spoil the fun?"
"I'm sorry." She faced him again, with tears of pity in her eyes. "I had no idea. But what you're doing is
still very wrong." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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