by Ally Condie
Nico had never seen anything like it—almost a dark, twisted version of the northern lights. He felt a tension in the air around him, as if the sky was holding its breath. Everything felt off. Wrong. Out of balance. The ocean seemed calm, but would it last? If another lightning explosion happens while we’re out here …
The trip proved uneventful. Opal had plugged coordinates into the navigation system, and Nico simply followed a blinking line. Powerful spotlights affixed to the speedboat’s gunwales lit the way forward like twin laser beams.
“Look,” Emma said suddenly, her finger darting out. “I see it!”
The rig’s jagged outline emerged from the darkness like a haunted castle, a hulking steel square girded by splintered wooden hoardings. Its outer walls dropped all the way down into the water, completely covering the islet on which it stood. A manmade line of rocks stretched from one end of the structure out into the ocean.
“It’s getting shallow around here,” Nico said, watching the sonar display. “I’m not sure how to get close enough.”
“There!” Opal pointed to a break in the rocks, where an old buoy bounced in the waves. “We can moor to that line and climb onto the jetty.”
Tyler was furiously rubbing the side of his neck. He glanced at the heavens. “Whoever’s up there, please, protect me from the insanity of my friends.”
Nico eased the speedboat into the gap, alongside the buoy, and killed the engine. As Logan and Emma tied off lines, he flashed a shaky smile. “Piece of cake,” he mumbled, wiping sweat from his brow despite the chill. “Really difficult, awful, terrifying cake.”
The group scrambled onto the breakwater and carefully worked their way down to the square building. Once safely there, Logan aimed one of the boat’s detachable spotlights at a corroded iron staircase ascending halfway up the rig’s outer wall. “You trust those steps?” he asked. “They look … neglected.”
Nico didn’t answer. A low humming sound filled his ears. “You guys hear that?”
The others nodded. “Sounds like a washing machine,” Tyler said. “On full spin.”
“It’s coming from up there.” Emma pointed to the door. Then her nose crinkled. “Oh no. Not that smell again.”
Nico started. The rotten stench of sulfur was leaking from the building. “Just like our pond,” he whispered.
“Well, we didn’t steal a boat and risk our necks to chicken out now.” Opal rolled her shoulders, then stepped onto the first riser. “Wait for me to reach the door.”
Opal began to climb, tentatively at first, but with growing confidence as the stairs held firm. At the top she waved for the others to join her. When Nico drew level, he noticed the noise was much louder. There was something atonal and jarring about the sound that crawled up his spine. It was definitely coming from inside the building.
They all stared at the door. The smell had grown much worse.
“What’s supposed to be in there, exactly?” Tyler asked, plugging his nose.
“Just a big drilling room that’s open to the water,” Opal said. “This rig is a really primitive structure. The outer wall was only built as a weather shell to protect the equipment.”
“So now we … go inside,” Emma said, making no move toward the door.
The noise thrummed.
Logan remained similarly motionless. “Yup.”
“I could try the handle,” Nico offered. But his feet seemed rooted in place.
Opal made a noise of frustration. Straightening to her full height, she tugged on the knob.
It didn’t move.
Tyler’s hands were shaking. “I’m not even mad. Let’s take it as a sign, okay?”
Opal looked at Nico. He nodded, steeling his nerve. Together they stepped forward and pulled. The door opened an inch with an angry groan. The rumble inside grew louder. Nico wrapped his fingers around the edge and yanked, pulling the door wide. After a round of deep breaths, they all crept through the opening, onto a metal catwalk that ran around the interior walls and provided a clear view of the chamber’s open center.
A nightmare greeted them.
The catwalk looked down on a vast vortex, rust red and swirling like a tornado. A thick metal wall formed a cylinder around it, at least thirty feet across, separating the seething whirlpool from the gray-green ocean water lapping against the barrier’s opposite side. Light flashed deep within the cyclone. Sparks hissed and spat on its surface. The air in the room was hot, humid, and foul, reeking of musty grime and sour rotten eggs. Nico’s mouth went dry. Sulfur.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Nico’s heart nearly stopped.
Prowling within the whirlpool were darkly familiar shapes with smooth faces like Halloween masks. They pushed against the water, as if seeking to escape.
Nico’s terrified gaze shot to Opal. She was staring back at him.
“I think we found the Rift,” Opal breathed. It took everything Nico had just to nod.
Those faces. Nico and Opal had seen one up close. Inside the Darkdeep, when they’d confronted a creature that had been using the well to create their darkest fears.
Yet here were … dozens.
“Oh man,” Logan whimpered. “We are so screwed.”
“What do we do?!” Tyler grabbed his head. “Look at all those things!”
Every cell in Nico’s body had frozen in horror. He didn’t know what to think. How to react. They weren’t prepared for something like this. Then a voice thundered inside his skull, driving away everything else.
REPAIR THE SEAL.
“What was that?!” Emma shrieked, pressing hands over her ears.
Logan spun wildly, glancing in every direction. Tyler looked like he might pass out.
Nico stepped back and shuddered uncontrollably.
Opal clamped a hand on his forearm. “You heard it, too?” For some reason she seemed elated.
Nico nodded, feeling haunted. He’d definitely heard. And the image of a little green blob had blinked into his mind for a split second. Its eyes had been open.
Nico stumbled and grabbed the rail. Below his feet, the creatures inside the vortex continued probing its edges.
“Repair the seal?!” Logan shouted. “How do we do that?!”
Nico’s stomach lurched. He nearly puked over the side. Shutting his eyes, he thought a message as hard as he could.
We don’t know what that means!
16
OPAL
Opal watched Nico stammer something with his eyes closed.
He heard. They all did!
Thing had finally spoken to everyone.
Below them, the vortex raged like a liquid firestorm, electricity streaking through it. Ghostly figures slithered within its walls, like dogs straining at leashes. The red-orange maelstrom seemed on the verge of spinning over the metal tank containing it. What would happen if that torrent spilled into the ocean?
We need to fix this right now!
“Help us, Thing!” Opal yelled, hoping her connection held. “We don’t know what to do!”
STORAGE LOCKER.
“A locker!” Emma shouted, her chest heaving. “You guys hear that?”
“Yes!” Opal said. She saw Tyler swallow and nod. Logan was already scanning the catwalks.
“Where’s the locker?” Opal asked the mystery voice, as calmly as she could. Thing. It’s Thing talking to us somehow.
OTHER SIDE.
HURRY.
Nico’s eyes popped open. Opal watched him take off down a catwalk crossing the center of the drilling chamber. The others dashed after him. The room reeked of sulfur, yellowish steam rising up around them. Opal’s clanging footsteps mixed with the roar of churning water.
HURRY.
“I am hurrying!” Tyler snapped, skidding to a halt behind Nico on a platform spanning the opposite side of the building. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Uh, my bad, ghost voice. I’m kinda freaked right now.”
Logan was staring at the Rift in a
we. “It’s like the Darkdeep on steroids.”
“There!” Opal pointed to a large metal cube pushed against the wall. “A storage pod!”
Nico’s jaw firmed into a hard line. “That must be it!”
The pod looked newer than the rusty platform it occupied. Opal ran over and tried to raise its garage-style sliding door.
“Can Thing, like, hear everything we say?” Emma was breathing so hard Opal worried she might hyperventilate. “Does it know what we think? I’m getting really creeped out!”
“I don’t know,” Opal said honestly. “It’s never responded to me before. But it’s real!”
No doubting that now. Not for any of them.
“It only answered you.” Logan gave a shaky laugh. “You must be the little blob’s favorite.”
The Rift thundered. The horrible faces faded into the waves for a moment, then returned. Were the creatures caught up in the current, like logs in a flood? Or were they creating the turbulence? Opal shivered. They looked exactly like what she and Nico had battled in the Darkdeep’s void. What if they’d done something wrong then? What if we attracted more of them?
“Will the door open?” Nico yelled, trying to be heard over the crashing whirlpool.
Opal glanced down, realized there was a catch. She flipped it sideways and yanked again. The door slid up easily. “Unlocked!”
Logan snorted. “I guess there aren’t a lot of burglars out here.”
HURRY.
FASTER.
Opal spoke through gritted teeth. “What do we do faster, Thing?”
SEAL THE RIFT.
“Okay already!” Nico glanced helplessly at the others. “Look around for … sealant?”
A boom echoed from deep within the vortex. The water level rose. Eyes peered up at them from beneath the roiling surface.
“Come on, let’s get out of here!” Tyler wailed through chattering teeth. “Straight home on the boat, then we call the Coast Guard or something. We’re not up to this!”
HURRY HURRY HURRY.
Opal gripped Tyler’s arm. “Whatever we need to do, it’s here somewhere. Just look around!”
He exhaled a moan. “Fine. But please let’s hurry! This whirlpool seems really, really mad.”
The squeal of the cyclone reverberated off its metal boundary. Opal rushed inside the storage pod, spotted wooden crates, lanterns, hand tools, a life raft, and a dozen oversized industrial-plastic sacks. One had ripped at the corner and was seeping a stream of silver-gray dust.
“Be careful with this stuff,” Nico cautioned, tapping a red-and-yellow label on the bag. “We don’t know what’s inside.” The warning was written in a language Opal couldn’t even guess.
THE RIFT.
POUR IT ALL.
“Dump the bags into the Rift?” Tyler squeezed his head. “That’s it? That’s the answer?”
Logan tried to lift one. “Oof. These are heavy.” His forehead creased as he glanced up at the ceiling. “You sure about this, stupid-blob-guy?”
“Don’t insult Thing!” Opal hissed. “It’s helping us!”
Logan gave her a flat look. “We don’t even know what’s happening, Opal.”
“The Thing in a Jar is speaking to us,” Opal scolded, smacking a fist into her open palm. “It’s our only chance, so do what it says!”
“Okay, okay.” Logan hauled one of the hefty sacks onto his shoulder. “Sorry, squishy-liquid-dude! Just making sure!”
ALL.
HURRY.
“Great.” Nico gritted his teeth as he looked at the enormous mound of bags in front of them. “Juuuuust perfect. Let’s get moving!”
HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRY.
Opal’s heart fluttered. She, Logan, and Nico began lugging sacks out onto the catwalk, where Emma ripped them open and Tyler dumped their contents into the vortex. The Rift hissed as silvery particles rained down, disappearing into its swirling throat. Bubbles exploded like medicine tablets dissolving in water.
The churning slowed. The sparking ceased.
The vortex lowered back into the tank.
The water turned lilac, then a deep violet. The whole chamber seemed to exhale.
Emma grinned at Opal. “Thing seems to know its stuff.”
Opal smiled wearily. “That’s what friends are for. Look—the Rift’s already calming down.”
Emma tilted her head curiously. “You guys are friends already?”
Opal shrugged. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt like she knew Thing. At least a little. On some level, they’d had a weird connection for weeks. Was Thing the reason why she’d walked along the dock that afternoon? Did Thing make her notice the cutout in the railing, or nudge her to investigate the Custom House? Opal didn’t know anything for sure … but she suspected.
“Final bag!” Logan called out, dumping it over the side. As the last granules dissolved into the Rift, the whirlpool’s surface began to vibrate.
Nico frowned, stepping closer to the edge. “The water’s getting … strange again.”
As they watched, a thick plume shot up from the Rift’s center, then dropped back down like a fountain.
The pool went silent.
“We did it!” Emma cheered. “Score one for the Thing in our heads!”
TOO LATE.
Opal flinched. “Too late? But the roaring stopped.” She glanced over the railing. The faces were gone. The Rift was rotating serenely, though eye-melting colors kept flashing in its depths. “No, it worked. It’s okay! We weren’t too late!”
Thing was silent.
Below the catwalk, the Rift stopped moving. All sound vanished.
Opal peered into the water, which had turned a livid purple-red, like a rotting plum. An ear-splitting hum rumbled in its depths. The Rift sank into itself, the way sick people’s faces sometimes did.
“Is it … draining?” Emma asked.
Nico gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles bone-white. “I have a bad feeling ab—”
The Rift exploded.
A column of water shot straight up into the air, slamming against the rig’s ceiling and raining down around them. Every drop was hard and cold, and stung like dry ice. Opal shielded her face. Emma screamed.
TOO LATE TOO LATE TOO LATE TOO LATE.
Faces appeared near the surface, empty eye sockets staring. Cavernous mouths gaped in hunger or—surprise?
GO.
“Run!” Opal shoved Tyler ahead of her and sprinted back across the catwalk, the others a step behind. More icy, stinging spray cannoned out of the Rift. Don’t touch me! Opal thought wildly, slapping at her arms. She remembered how the Darkdeep’s flow had pulled them into it. Could the Rift do the same?
The group crashed through the outer door, stumbled down the steps, and raced across the breakwater toward the speedboat. The ocean teemed with dark waves as a simmering ball of electricity formed directly above the oil rig. Opal’s braid nearly stood on end as a dangerous charge filled the air.
The lightning, she thought in horror. This is where it struck earlier! With a shiver of terror, she glanced back at the building. Blinding light was leaking from its gaps and corners.
GO.
NOW.
They thudded down into the boat, arms and legs tangling in the mad rush to get aboard. Emma and Tyler released the lines while Logan reattached the spotlights. Nico started the engine. Opal fired up the navigation and they pushed off from the buoy with as much force as they could muster. The boat drifted clear of the breakwater, and Nico spun it in a tight circle, slamming the throttle.
BREACH.
The word thundered inside Opal’s skull. Her friends’ faces were grim and drawn.
“Come on come on come on,” Nico whispered, urging the speedboat through the surf. They raced at breakneck speed for a quarter mile, bouncing over the waves like bobbleheads, before he finally slowed to a saner pace.
“Everyone okay?” Opal asked, glancing around. Emma and Logan nodded in stunned silence.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Tyler groaned, then he leaned over the side and suited action to words.
Behind them, there was a deep coughing sound, like the ocean backfiring. Opal clambered into the stern to see.
Glowing purple-red water was thundering skyward in a giant column, completely obscuring the rig. The colossal geyser shimmered in the starlight, showering luminescent droplets around the islet. Opal heard an enormous splash out at sea, and realized it was the platform’s roof. Then the water fell back and everything went silent.
Opal didn’t need anyone—or any Thing—to tell her what that meant.
We failed.
PART THREE
THING
17
NICO
Nico tiptoed into the houseboat’s showroom.
Opal and Emma were a few steps behind him, with Logan standing near the tattered velvet curtain. Tyler refused to come even that close—he was pacing the foyer, unable to face the floating creature in its glass jar.
The one that spoke inside my head.
Nico shivered.
He approached the pedestal as quietly as possible. It was early, no more than an hour after dawn. Halloween morning. How’s that for creepy? Nico had spent the night at Tyler’s house—his dad had agreed to a sleepover without much fuss, despite Nico texting to ask permission much later than usual. Logan had crashed there as well. They’d spent the whole time locked in Tyler’s room, endlessly debating what had gone wrong at the Rift. Emma had stayed over at Opal’s so they could all meet up at first light and pedal out to Still Cove.
They needed to see. To know.
And here they were. Nico had no idea why he was sneaking across the room like a cat burglar—no idea what he was doing, honestly—but he was a ball of frazzled nerves, and extreme caution seemed appropriate. Drawing level with the jar, he swallowed and peered inside.
Thing drooped in the viscous liquid, its body as placid as ever.
No movement. No sign of life.
Nico straightened. Frowned. He began to feel very, very stupid.
Logan, Opal, and Emma piled up behind him and peered over his shoulder. “Nothing,” Nico huffed, unsure whether he was relieved or disappointed. “Same as always in Jar Town.”