The Blade of Shattered Hope 1r-3

by James Dashner

  Sato was thankful for the growing light as he ran through the tunnels, sick of that terrified feeling of blindness in the dark. But it was greatly tempered by the increasing sounds of horror from up ahead. Screeches, mostly from creatures he knew couldn’t be human. Cries of pain from those that were. Explosions and cracking rock.

  When he turned a corner and saw the full spectrum of battle in front of him, he couldn’t help but stop. He stared at the scene, having second thoughts about his self-imposed calling for the hundredth time that day.

  A massive chamber that looked to have once been some sort of underground atrium for Jane’s Factory now looked like a tornado had touched down. Chunks of earth and stone littered the floor, some taller than a grown man. Patches of open sky broke up what had once been a painted ceiling-murals of Bible stories and famous moments from history. In his quick scan he noticed half of Noah’s ark and a scene of Abraham Lincoln sitting in the theater where he had been shot.

  On the floor, dozens of Fifths fought a variety of Jane’s creations, outnumbered twenty to one. At least. But the advanced weapons of the Realitants seemed to even the score. Still, he saw with a pang to his heart that several of the tall soldiers lay dying or dead.

  Squeezer grenades exploded on the left and right, downing a whole slew of hairy, fanged beasts, all of whom fell to the ground squealing and squirming from the attacking wires. One of the Fifths shot her Halter tube, sending a spray of darts that immediately paralyzed five or six four-legged things with wings flapping their way through one of the holes in the ceiling; they plummeted to the ground and crashed with a sickening crunch. Thumps from Shurrics pummeled the air like the beating of silent drums. Every time a shot hit its mark, a creature went flying until it smashed into a wall.

  Sato watched the battle with an odd mixture of feelings-guilt that he wasn’t out there, an urge to run and join them, terror at the thought of doing so, pride that his little army fought so strongly and bravely-were maybe even winning. Mostly though, it reminded him of what horrible things Jane was doing here by using innocent animals to create those hideous beasts-and soon she would be using children.

  He knew what he had to do. He knew his place. There’d be plenty of time in the days and years ahead to lead men and women into battle. But for now, he had to leave the very capable Fifth Army to the fight. He had to find those kids. He had to find them and save them.

  He was about to turn around and start searching the complex when Mothball appeared out of the fray, running straight toward him. She pulled up, sucking in huge gulps of air. Then she patted a bulge in the side of her shirt.

  “Been… waitin’ on ya… I ’ave,” she spit out between breaths. “Got a whole… mess of them… nanolocators in me pocket.”

  She didn’t have to say another word. Sato was grateful for the help.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Tick floated in emptiness in a realm he didn’t understand.

  He hadn’t felt any pain when his body erupted into billions of tiny parts. It had been more like a wash of tingles spreading across a warm, glowing sensation. Really pleasurable, actually. But now a sense of panic set in as his mind tried to comprehend the impossible thing that had just happened to him.

  He could barely articulate within his own thoughts what his five senses were experiencing. He saw spinning lights, orange globes, streaks of blue and silver-all on a canvas of the deepest black he’d ever seen. It was like he floated in the depths of unexplored outer space. That same buzzing sound surrounded him, mixed with something that reminded him of waterfalls. The air had a slightly burnt odor to it. Without understanding how he knew, he realized that he didn’t exist in his usual human form anymore. He had become… part of the things that he witnessed around him.

  And yet he was still Tick. Still had the cognitive functions of his brain. Still kid enough to simultaneously think this was really cool and also really scary.

  The Haunce spoke, and its booming voice made those peripheral sounds dampened and dull. Tick couldn’t see the collection of ghosts-just heard it with ears he didn’t have at the moment.

  “Atticus. Jane. Nothing we could have said beforehand could have prepared you for what we have done to you. For that reason, we said nothing. With time running out, we must begin our attempt to rebind the barriers of the Realities, to seal up the cracking splits and seams, to make the universe whole again. In the end, we promise we will do everything in our power to return you to your prior forms.”

  Tick didn’t like the sound of that. If they succeeded, there must be a chance he’d never make it back to what he’d had before. Maybe he’d have to float here for the rest of his life.

  “Where are we?” he asked, though he had no idea how he did it with no tongue and no mouth, no audible words. It was more like he’d projected his thoughts. “And what did you do to us. What are we right now?”

  “Yes.” It was Jane’s voice, but not her voice. “I think we deserve to know what we’ve volunteered for.”

  When the Haunce spoke again, Tick heard real emotion in its voice for the first time: impatience. “We have mere minutes, do you understand? It would take us a hundred lifetimes to explain the complexities of what and who and where you are right now. You are in the depths of space, in the smallest of smallest quantum realms, on the infinite path, in the past, present, and future. All at once. You are a trillion miles long and an atom’s width short. You are here and there and everywhere. You are, quite simply, joined with eternity. One day you will understand. Perhaps. But for now, you must do what we say, or everyone and everything will die!”

  Tick listened in awe, hoping Jane would shut up and do the same.

  The Haunce continued, sounding a little nicer. “The true power of Chi’karda lies not in scientific formulas and complicated theorems and atomic mapping. No. It lies within the heart and mind and spirit. It lies in the power of the soulikens. The two of you have more Chi’karda concentrated within you than any two humans we have ever observed. Far more. We still do not understand why this is so with Jane. Atticus, you have it because every one of your Alterants has died, and their soulikens have transferred to you. Why that happened, we do not know for sure.”

  If Tick’s face had existed, he would’ve scrunched it up in confusion. But he remained quiet.

  Jane didn’t. “I thought you said we had no time to waste.”

  “Silence! Every word we speak is vital. You need to know that the Chi’karda is magnificently potent and powerful within both of you. Almost violently so. You must know this so you will have the confidence that the task you are about to perform will indeed accomplish our mutual goal of saving the Realities. Do not try to understand how or why. The breakdown of the intricate and infinitely complex background of it is for us to worry about. The two of you will use your powers in a way that your minds best decide to present it to you symbolically.”

  The Haunce paused then, maybe to let its words sink in. Tick didn’t quite understand-not at all, actually-but he knew better than to resort to any childish antics when everything was on the line. He’d only move forward and do what he was asked to do.

  “The two most powerful and effective things in the universe are the human mind and Chi’karda,” the Haunce continued. “They will now work together within you to present what we need in a way you will best understand it. Trust your instincts and accomplish the task. That is all. By doing so, you will put the pieces in place to heal the breaches in the Barriers. No matter what, trust what you see. No matter what, do what is asked of you. No matter what. Do you both understand?”

  Tick’s first instinct was to nod, but nothing moved because there wasn’t anything to move. So he verbalized again. “Yeah. Yes. I understand.”

  “Jane?”

  She didn’t answer until a few seconds passed, probably trying to save a little face, a little power. “Yes. I understand.”

  “Then let the process begin,” the Haunce pronounced.

  Chapter 54
r />   Words on a Tree

  Again, Tick could never have explained to anyone what happened next. The swirling lights and glowing orbs and colored streaks suddenly twisted around him like a pyrotechnic tornado, spinning and spinning until he wished he could close his eyes or look away. Dizziness filled him, those pleasurable feelings of floating and tingles and warmth gone in an instant.

  Everything blended into one bright, all-encompassing light around him, joined by a rushing sound of wind and roaring trains. Tick felt a pressure, small at first then building, as if his parts had been thrown into a compressor and were being squeezed back together. It had just started to hurt when it all stopped, instantly. The light, the sounds, the heavy force.

  He felt nothing. He saw only darkness.

  Then things began to change.

  One by one, his senses picked up new impressions. He heard a soft wind blowing through the branches of trees. Cold prickled his skin as he suddenly felt that same cool breeze, felt the crisp air all around him. The strong smell of pine trees filled his nose as he pulled in a deep breath. He licked his lips, tasted salt. The bottom of his feet pressed against something-he was standing-and they were cold, too.

  Wind. Nose. Lips. Feet.

  Tick had been put back together. But why the darkness?

  Idiot, he chastised himself. His eyes were closed.

  He opened them and took in another burst of quick breath.

  A forest surrounded him, a thick layer of freshly fallen snow making the whole place a winter wonderland. Huge trees-mostly pine-towered above him, their branches heavily laden with the puffy white stuff. Tick glanced down to see his feet buried clear up to the ankles. Some of the snow had melted, and his socks were wet, his toes beginning to freeze.

  He looked around at the tightly packed trees that went on in every direction as far as he could see. He slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in. The place was beautiful and reminded him of the woods near his home in Washington, though this forest seemed even larger and more widespread.

  He’d turned about ninety degrees when he noticed a piece of paper stapled to a thick oak tree just a few feet away. The paper didn’t seem wet at all, which meant someone had to have put it there recently, and several lines had been written on its surface. Curious, he stepped forward, slogging through the snow until he reached the mysterious note, now only inches from his eyes.

  He began to read but didn’t get very far before he knew exactly what it was.

  A riddle.

  Mothball’s flashlight unfurled a spooky path in front of them.

  Sato felt like he’d been soldiering with her for years. They slunk their way through the still-shaking tunnels and hallways of the Factory like old pros, anticipating each other’s movements as they tried to use their four eyeballs to look in every direction for potential enemies. So far it seemed as if all of Jane’s creatures had congregated at the main battle.

  Shurrics cocked and gripped in their hands, they searched and searched. They had to find where these monsters kept the kids.

  When they reached a T, Mothball shone her flashlight both directions.

  Sato asked, “Left or right?”

  She didn’t answer, but instead held a finger up to her lips to shush him.

  Sato nodded slightly and listened. The faintest sound floated through the cracking and roaring of shifting stone around them. He strained his ears to hear it, even closed his eyes for a second. A whimper. A cry. Moaning. Sobbing. After a few seconds, the sound cut off abruptly with a terror-filled shriek. Then silence.

  Sato met Mothball’s dark gaze. “That way for sure.”

  They went to the left.

  Sofia sat next to Rutger, fascinated by all the blips and numbers and graphs and charts and squiggly lines on the computer screens. She didn’t know what all of it meant yet, and Rutger didn’t seem too keen on teaching her with everything that was going on.

  “Okay,” he said. “I hope this doesn’t offend you, Sofia, but what I really need most from you is to run messages back and forth between me and Master George in the Control Room.”

  It took all of her power not to growl at him like a wolf. No time for wounded pride. “Why don’t you have all this junk in the same place?”

  Rutger snickered like she’d told a joke. “It used to fit,” was all he said.

  “At least tell me what you’re doing and what he’s doing.”

  Rutger waved his chubby little hand in the air; Sofia had no idea why.

  “He’s in charge of organizing the rescue of the kids at the Factory. The Barrier Wand’s hooked in and set up to wink the nanolocators from the patches we gave Sato and his army. Sally, Priscilla, and a few other Realitants have set up shop in the Grand Canyon. That’s where the kids will be winked to. Not enough room here.”

  “And your job?” she asked.

  “Two main things. We’re tracking Tick and Mothball and Sato and his army. I’m also tapped into the meteorological reports and ocean monitoring stations. I don’t think there’s any doubt-we’re going to get hit by a massive tidal wave from one of these earthquakes. Not if, when.”

  Sofia had been studying the screens as he spoke, and her eyes finally focused in on something she should’ve noticed from the very first. Sato and Mothball and the others had lots of information scrolling and blinking beneath their names. But not Tick.

  His screen was blank from top to bottom. Nothing but black space.

  She pointed at it. “What’s up with Tick?”

  Rutger let out a long and dramatic sigh. “Well, Master George says he expected something like this, but it still makes my feet all itchy.”

  Sofia felt something shrivel inside her. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

  “According to this, Tick’s nanolocator is dead.”

  Tick couldn’t believe it. A riddle.

  Now he understood what the Haunce had meant when it said that somehow the healing of the Barriers would be presented to each of them in a form that would seem familiar. Symbolically. Tick thought it was almost like a video game-solving the riddle would be like maneuvering the joystick and pushing buttons on the controller, the complex processes and codes and circuits translating those movements into what he saw on the TV screen.

  A riddle.

  If anything had defined his journey so far as a Realitant, it had to be riddles.

  And here he had another one. A doozy.

  Concentrating, he read through it one more time:

  Look at the following most carefully, as every line counts:

  Be gone in times of death’s long passing.

  Henry Atwood sliced his neck.

  Hath reeds knocked against thee?

  If our fathers knew, then winds, they blew.

  The sixth of candles burned my eyes.

  Horrors even among us.

  Leigh tries to eat a stone.

  The canine or the cat, it spat.

  Pay attention to the ghoul that weeps.

  Your number’s up, and it is missing. Wary the word second.

  Shout out your answer.

  A new line suddenly appeared at the very bottom of the page, the space blank one second, then filled with several words the next:

  The universe ends in 11:58

  And then, as impossible at it seemed, the written time at the end of the sentence started changing, ticking down like a digital clock.

  11:57

  11:56

  11:55

  11:54

  Tick already had the riddle memorized. He closed his eyes and started thinking.

  Chapter 55

  An Unearthly Shriek

  Sato heard more of the chilling sound bites over the now all-too-present quaking noises as he and Mothball stumbled their way down the tunnel and closer to a light source up ahead. Sato heard whimpers and cries for help-all of them the high-pitched voices of children. Anger stirred within him, almost completely obliterating the fear and trepidation he’d been feeling. And all the while, the t
hreat of the entire Factory collapsing on top of them loomed over their heads-literally.

  They came to a stony bend where the light grew stronger. Mothball stopped and crouched on the shaky ground right at the edge, her head just a few inches below Sato’s. He leaned against the wall beside her, his gut telling him they were on the cusp now of discovering the true horror of this place. He sensed the fear around the corner, as if the kids’ tears and sweat evaporated into a noxious cloud that poured through the opening he couldn’t see.

  Mothball dared a peek. “Gotta be it,” she whispered. “Monster or two just ’round the corner, guardin’ a door. Lug a Squeezer, we should.”

  Sato reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the small grenades in answer. “I’ll throw it. Soon as it pops, let’s charge in shooting the Shurrics.”

  Mothball nodded then returned her attention forward, gripping the Shurric firmly, its business end pointed away, ready to shoot. Sato stepped away from the wall so he could have the right angle, then tossed the Squeezer around the corner.

  It bounced off the far wall then hit the floor with a clang, disappearing from sight as it bounced forward. Seconds later it exploded, sending out a spray of small metal rods. Many of them clinked against the stone, but a few found their marks with a deadly thud. Two or three creatures howled an unearthly shriek.

  “Go!” Sato yelled.

  He moved to run around the corner, keeping Mothball to his right. He was about to pull the trigger of his Shurric when he saw two bear-like creatures sprawled on the ground, unmoving. A small lamp stood on a table, its glass broken in two places but still lit. Two chairs had toppled over, along with the guards.

  Sato looked at the wooden door they’d been guarding. “A Rager ought to-”

  Heavy thumps from Mothball’s Shurric cut him off, like invisible lightning and soundless thunder-felt, more than heard. On her third shot, the door exploded with a spray of splinters, flying away from them several feet before falling into some kind of abyss. Sato waited and watched, but he never heard the wooden shards hit anything below.