Every window on President Street was dark. Hawkins watched Ableson climb out of his car like an old man, holding the door frame and seatback to pull himself up. Gray mud or something was smeared all over the front of Ableson’s jacket, his face was in shadow, and Hawkins had a sudden nightmare image of mud melting off his friend’s face like gray acid, taking flesh and features with it, leaving clean, white bone behind. The people would come to the windows then, but they would have smooth, hairless stocking-­mask faces with gauze eyes. Ableson reached him and raised his head; he was just Ableson, but very pale.

He said, “The boys in the clubhouse are dead.”

Hawkins looked up the street. It was empty and silent; the rain fell steadily.

“All five?” Hawkins asked.

“All five,” Ableson answered. The stuff on Ableson’s clothes smelled of mold, mud, algae, and rotting vegetation, like a tidal swamp or pond bottom.

Hawkins looked into Ableson’s eyes; they were glazed and open too wide. “Mo,” he said as gently as he could, “Mo, we need help here. Call Lerner, then turn on the lights for me.”

Mo grabbed his arm, and something in Hawkins shriveled at the thought of getting that stuff on him. “Don’t go down there, Roger . . .”

“It’s okay.” He tried to sound soothing. “Just get me some light.”

“Don’t,” Ableson cried. Hawkins repeated stubbornly, “The light, Mo.” But Ableson didn’t move. Hawkins went to the squad car and turned on the top light and the side spots. He even turned on the headlights. Red and white beams speared the rain. He went to the steps and looked into the well. Gray stuff streaked the walls, steps, and stone floor. The window was smashed and only the tip of the pointed eagle’s wing was left on a long shard sticking out of the frame. The door was splintered and hung loose. The steps looked slick and Hawkins reached for the wall, touched gray slime, and snatched his hand back. He wiped it on the clean stone edge of the basement well until he’d scraped the skin. He got to floor level, left the turning light behind, and went through the wrecked door into the basement.