Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

very powerful psychic.""I know what an oracle is," Angela said. Her voice distant. Thinking of…Then she said it aloud. Making up her mind. "...Isabel.""But that wouldn't be enough," came Beeman's voice. Sounding frightened even through thepoor resolution of the speakerphone. "To cross over he'd still need..."There was a growing background sound in the speakerphone. Noise from Beeman's - and notthe usual noise. A kind of swelling buzz."...he'd need divine assistance. To cross over, Mammon would need the help of God. It says -look for signs. Signs of his coming."'What kind of signs... Beeman?""Minor demons. Trying to break through." That buzzing noise..."John," Beeman went on, his voice breaking. "I know you've never had much faith. Neverhad much reason to..."Constantine looked at the phone. Something about Beeman's voice. Was he in danger - rightnow?"Beeman?"A certain resignation in Beeman's voice now. "But remember, John - that doesn't mean wedon't have faith. In you,"The buzzing rose in volume - and suddenly cut off. There was no voice, no sound - except thedial tone.Constantine looked hard at Angela. "Drive. Fast."TWELVEWhat's that smell? Sulfur?" Angela asked, as they stood outside the door to Beeman's peculiarlittle impromptu apartment.Constantine sniffed - and winced. What was that smell? Raw sewage - and blood?The door that led to the maintenance lane was closed, locked. Constantine hadn't been able tofind the manager, though the outside door had been unlocked. A morning talk show playedwithout volume on a TV set behind the main desk, above the shelves of bowling shoes. No otherlife visible."Beeman!" Constantine called. "Beeman!"Angela stepped back from the flies slipping under the door, a stream of them darting past.That buzzing sound again, fluctuating.Constantine felt something tickle his ankle - he shook it, and several large houseflies flewloopily away. More were coming from the openings at the back of the lanes, and under the door,the air darkening with them.He stepped back, and located the door's weak point, then kicked it - hard. He had a lot ofpractice kicking down doors, and it flew open immediately.Inside the maintenance corridor, what should have been cool darkness was instead a sticky,buzzing heat. They hurried down the lane, past pool after pool of light, till they got to the areathat widened for Beeman's little compartment.