“Man oh man,” the copilot said. “Are all these other bats here for-” He was interrupted when the helicopter shook.

The pilot and copilot both looked at their instruments.

“What was that?” the copilot said.

It happened again-a hard, spine-ringing thump from below.

“It feels like we’re being hit from the bottom!” the pilot said.

There was a third strike, rougher than the others, this time from the pilot’s side. Then something seemed to tug the helicopter toward the left. Joyce turned away from the distant giant and its entourage. She moved back to the pilot’s side and looked out the window just as a monstrous face appeared beneath the portside landing skid. Joyce watched while it rose slowly, followed by two white hooks as thick and large as elephant ivory. The hooks were at least six feet apart.

“Get us out of here!” she screamed.

The copilot looked back. “Oh shit-”

A pair of large ruby eyes rolled toward Joyce just as a blast of vapor from the awesome mouth clouded the window. A moment later one of the hooks crashed against the pane. It didn’t break through, but the tip raked downward, cutting a deep rut.

The pilot swung the chopper around and swept toward the southeast. Ahead, brightly lighted, the retired battleshipIntrepid appeared through the window.

“What’s wrong?” Pace demanded.

“It’s one of them!” Joyce cried as the hook came again. It wasn’t a hook, she knew, it was the bat’s thumb. This time the tip of the finger came through the shatter-resistant window.

“One ofwho?” Pace said.

“One of the giant bats!” she screamed. “It’s on the helicopter!”

“What do we need to do?” Pace asked, his voice calm.

The pilot rocked the helicopter from side to side as he flew down and toward the shore.

“Are you doing that or is he?” Joyce cried.

“I am,” the pilot replied. “Trying to shake him-”

“Forget that!” she yelled. “Can you put us in the water?”

“I can’t land on it-” the pilot said.

“I mean drag the runner through it! Bats hate submersion. It weighs them down.”

“I can try,” the pilot said tensely as he guided the chopper back to starboard and dropped toward the river.

The vapor had cleared from the window, and Joyce looked out again. The rotor was blasting the bat’s fur, but the creature held on. The eyes were angry now, the crescent nostrils wide and trembling. Vibrating.

“He’s calling the others,” she muttered. “We’ve got to get him off-he’s calling the other bats!”

The chopper was flying parallel to the water. They were seven feet up. Then five…four…

Joyce looked up. Bats were peeling off the edge of the colony. That was how he did it. The big bat called them, and they came. It was unbelievable.

She was rocked back hard as the skid shot across the water. Spray flew up on all sides, and the pilot immediately pulled up. The bat was still there, its head back, the mouth pulled taut, the eyes big and aflame.

The pilot dipped down again, this time dragging lower and for several seconds. He rose. The bat was dark and drenched, its hook still thrust through the window.

“Hold on!” the pilot said.

Joyce looked ahead. They were coming toward Yacht Harbor down by the World Financial Center.

Pace said, “N412, what’s happening?”

“Just a second,” the copilot said.

The chopper raced toward the nearest boat. The skid was level with the tower platform on the top of the flybridge.

“We’re playing chicken,” the copilot said into the mouthpiece. “Shit, man. Shit-”

The yacht was less than thirty feet away. The bat turned toward the boat. Suddenly, the creature snapped its thumb toward it. The pane flew out and the wind roared in, howling in Joyce’s face. The bat turned toward her, glaring. Then it opened the claws of its feet, releasing its hold on the skids. It fell away, like a parachutist, its wings spreading and filling like a shroud.

The pilot swerved hard to starboard to avoid the tower. He missed it by less than two feet. Quickly righting the chopper, he steadied it and swung around the tip of Manhattan. He started to climb.

Joyce looked out the window. She withdrew her head quickly and cried,“He’s coming back!”

The bat was about twenty feet behind the tail rotor on the portside. It was extremely muscular along its back and flapping vigorously. Definitely a male. Behind it was a stream of hundreds of small bats.

Joyce knew that it had to be difficult for the bat to keep up with them. Not only was the water weighing it down, but it was cooling fast and lowering the bat’s body temperature. Bats did not fly well wet-or cold.

Pace said, “N412, come in.”

“We managed to dislodge the bat,” the copilot said, “but he’s in pursuit. I clock him at about seventy-five miles an hour.”

“He can’t keep that up for long,” Joyce said.

“Neither can we with that hole in our side,” the copilot replied. “Got a lot of drag.”

They passed the ferry buildings and sped up the east side of Manhattan.

The pilot said, “I’m going to land at the downtown heliport. I’ll need support. The big bat and a shitload more are gonna be all over us.”

“We’ll never get out of the helicopter alive,” Joyce said. “The bat will do anything to protect its sister.”

“Its sister?” Pace said.

“Yes. The smaller bat coming from the north is a female. The male attacked because we were airborne, in her path. It sees us as a threat.”

“Good for him,” the pilot said. “What do we do?”

Joyce leaned between the pilot and copilot. She pointed ahead, toward the stone towers of the Brooklyn Bridge. “Head there,” she said. “Take us between the cables and the span.”

“Between them? ”he said. “Doctor, there’s a steel wire web truss in that area-”

“I know. But the bat doesn’t. And it may not see them. It’s dark, the bat has got to be tiring, and our rotors may mess up its echolocation. I’ve also got something it isn’t expecting.”

“Say no more,” the pilot said.

He pushed the chopper ahead, maximum speed. The bridge was exactly a mile from their position. They’d reach it in less than a minute.

Joyce looked back. The big bat was well to the side of the chopper now and several feet closer. It was obviously trying to stay away from the tail rotor and get back alongside the helicopter. Now that she had her first good look at it, Joyce couldn’t decide whether the bat was beautiful or hideous. The noseleaf construction was like an hourglass, with the crescent nostrils upright along the bottom half and a ridge of bone forming the top half. The bone formed a protective ridge around the eyes. The ears were large, a rose-petal shape. They began, in front, just above the eye ridge. They twisted gracefully to the sides, just above the head, so that the upper third of each ear was turned nearly completely around. Unlike most bats, whose ears faced front, this creature could probably hear equally well in every direction. The mouth was a wide, deep slit very close to the chin, and the eyes were almost luminescent. Beautiful or hideous, the bat was astonishing.

Joyce picked up her camera. She faced backward and leaned toward the shattered window. The bat was gaining quickly. The strength and endurance of the thing were simply incredible.

She turned and looked toward the bridge. They sped past the Fulton Fish Market and the South Street Seaport. The bridge, nearly sixteen hundred feet long, loomed just ahead.

“I’m going to swing to the right and up,” the pilot told Joyce. “In six…five…four…”

Joyce turned back. She leaned partway out the window. The creature was closing on them.

“…three…”

She raised the camera.The face of the bat filled the lens.

“…two…”

She took a flash picture.

“…one!”

The helicopter swerved to the starboard side and climbed. Joyce was tossed roughly toward the right side of the helicopter. She dropped the camera but put her foot against the starboard door to brace herself and looked back as the giant bat slammed into the meshwork of steel strands. It hit at full speed, its head twisting to the side and almost completely back as the rest of its body struck. The wires sliced through the forearms, which connected the wings to the body, and continued cutting into the wing membrane. The body hovered straight out behind it for a moment, the legs kicking outward. Then the legs stopped moving and the body sagged and the bat hung crucified on the suspension wires just outside the Manhattan-side tower.