They showed Eph’s photograph from his CDC identification card. Then a blurry snippet of his encounter with Redfern, and one of the two look-alikes carrying a body bag from the hospital room. It said that Dr. Ephraim Goodweather was being sought as “a person of interest” in the disappearance of the corpses of the Flight 753 airline passengers.

Eph stood motionless. He thought of Kelly watching this. Of Zack.

“Those bastards,” he hissed.

Setrakian switched off the television. “The only good news about this is that they still consider you a threat. That means there is still time. Still hope. A chance.”

Nora said, “You sound like you have a plan.”

“Not a plan. A strategy.”

Eph said, “Tell us.”

“Vampires have their own laws, both savage and ancient. One such commandment that endures is that a vampire cannot cross moving water. Not without human assistance.”

Nora shook her head. “Why not?”

“The reason perhaps lies in their very creation, so long ago. The lore has existed in every known culture on the planet, for all time. Mesopotamians, Ancient Greeks and Egyptians, Hebrews, the Romans. Old as I am, I am not old enough to know. But the prohibition holds even today. Giving us something of an advantage here. Do you know, what is New York City?”

Nora got it right away. “An island.”

“An archipelago. We are surrounded on all sides by water right now. The airline passengers, they went to morgues in all five boroughs?”

“No,” said Nora. “Only four. Not Staten Island.”

“Four, then. Queens and Brooklyn are both separated from the mainland, by the East River and the Long Island Sound respectively. The Bronx is the only borough connected to the United States.”

Eph said, “If only we could seal off the bridges. Set up fire lines north of the Bronx, east of Queens at Nassau…”

“Wishful thinking at this point,” said Setrakian. “But, can you see, we do not have to destroy every one of them individually. They are all of one mind, operating in a hive mentality. Controlled by a single intelligence. Who is very likely landlocked somewhere here in Manhattan.”

“The Master,” said Eph.

“The one who came over in the belly of the airplane. The owner of the missing coffin.”

Nora said, “How do you know he’s not back near the airport? If he can’t cross the East River on his own.”

Setrakian smiled flatly. “I feel very confident that he did not journey all the way to America to hide out in Queens.” He opened the rear door, the steps leading to his basement armory. “What we have to do now is hunt him down.”

Liberty Street, the World Trade Center Site