by Simon Holt
“Right.” Reggie looked around the living room. She saw speakers but no tuner, and figured the apartment was wired for sound; she just needed to find the receiver. “I’ll be right back.”
She headed through the kitchen to the bedroom, where her mother had gone.
“Mom? Where’s your stereo?” Reggie called as she walked through the open door, but she was surprised to see that the room was empty. “Mom?”
She wasn’t in the bathroom, either. Reggie even looked in the closets, but there was no sign of her mother. Feeling apprehensive, she crossed back through the kitchen, and only then noticed a piece of paper taped to the back door. Her trepidation grew when she saw that it was a letter in her mother’s handwriting, and it was addressed to her. She stripped it off the door, already knowing what it would say.
Dear Reggie,
You were right about everything—about Avi, about me, about my life. I know that you want me to come back with you, but I just can’t. My world is entirely changed now, and I need time to process what you’ve shown me. I’m weak. I know I am. I know you probably won’t believe this, but I do love you, with all my heart. I’m so sorry that I can’t be the mother that you need. You’ll be better off without me in your life. Take care of yourself—you can do that much better than I ever could.
I’m sorry.
Mom
Reggie read the letter again and again. It said nothing and it said everything. The words she used were excuses and clichés, but it showed exactly who she was. She was a coward, she was selfish, she was content to run away when things got rough. She was, not a Vour.
And she could run away, because she didn’t claim responsibility, and she didn’t care. And Reggie was left to pick up the pieces once again.
Rage suddenly tore through Reggie. She ripped the letter into pieces and stormed back into the living room. She stalked past a surprised Aaron and grabbed the steak knife that was sitting on the table.
“Bad news?” Avi grunted.
Reggie brandished the knife in his face.
“You’re going to tell us what you know.”
“Oh, am I?”
“Reggie, what—?” Aaron began, but Reggie pushed him aside. In a quick motion she swiped the blade across Avi’s chest, slicing open a six-inch cut. Blood spurted up.
“Now we’ll see how tough you are.” She picked up a nerve pad from the table and stuck it over the gash like a Band-Aid. Avi howled in agony, his shrieks more inhuman than any he’d uttered yet. Black streaks spread out from the wound, covering his chest like inky veins. Reggie leaned in close to Avi’s face. His temples were lined with sweat, and his lips were turning black. “I don’t even care what you wanted with my mother. I want to know what the Vours want with me. Why I was a lab rat for five months. Tell me!”
“Okay… okay…” Avi panted between yowls. “Take that thing off !”
Reggie removed the patch, and Avi’s screams quieted.
“Tell me,” she repeated.
Gradually Avi’s breathing slowed and his writhing stopped. He spat again, and his saliva was stained with dark spots.
“Your mother… was just a pawn,” Avi panted. “Insurance for a rainy day. It’s always been about you.”
“What’s so special about me?”
Avi choked out a laugh.
“What isn’t special about you? You travel between the worlds, seemingly at will. How?”
“I ate one of you guys.”
“Do you know what happens to most people when they’re fed Vour? They die a horrible, painful death. But you not only survived, you also gained a unique ability.”
“And the tests were supposed to show why that was?”
“In part.”
“What’s the other part?”
Avi hesitated, and Reggie started to reapply the nerve pad.
“No! Don’t!!” Avi thrashed his body, but the tape held him firmly. “Unger thought it had to do with your body chemistry. Distinct DNA markers.”
Aaron tapped his foot sporadically on the floor. Reggie recognized the sign that his brain was whirring through some problem. She was glad—this was starting to go beyond her level of understanding.
“Why send her into all those fearscapes, though?” he asked.
“Unger fancied himself a modern-day Doctor Frankenstein,” said Avi. “For years he’s been obsessed with creating a new species, one that retains both human and Vour qualities.”
“And the fearscapes?” Aaron said darkly.
“The greatest irony of all.” Avi chuckled, then coughed in pain. “When she beats a fearscape, the Vour isn’t destroyed. It becomes part of her. Every time she wins, she gets a little more Vour in her.”
Reggie stared in horror at the Vour as his expression alternated between agony and humor.
“I’m the new species?”
“That you are, my dear.”
“Liar!” Reggie swung the knife down toward Avi’s throat.
“Reggie, stop!” Aaron grabbed her arm, and the knife fell from her hand.
“Why should I stop? Aren’t you the one who’s the expert on killing now? What’s the point? He’s evil!”
“He is, but you’re not. You don’t kill, remember?”
“Then what do we do?”
Reggie trembled in fury. Aaron let go of her arm but spoke softly and firmly, as though he were trying to calm a wild colt.
“Well, you’re not going into his fearscape, obviously, just in case there’s some truth to what he says. I’m not saying that there is,” he added, catching Reggie’s horrified look. “We’ll take him to Machen. He’ll know what to do.”
Reggie nodded and stared icily at the Vour.
“You’re going to die very soon.”
“Let’s get him up,” said Aaron.
He began to rip off the duct tape binding Avi’s body to the sofa. Avi yelped as the adhesive tore away from his skin, leaving rough red patches. Reggie picked up the knife again and held it to his throat.
“Don’t try anything,” she said, but the warning was unnecessary. Avi’s hands were still cuffed behind him, and he was too weak from the nerve pads to do more than squirm.
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me,” Avi snarled. “We’ve been here since the beginning of the world. You can’t beat us. You can only last until we beat you. The fear always wins.”
“Shut up.” Aaron propped Avi’s arm around his shoulder and stood him up.
And then, several things happened at once. There was a bang and the crinkling sound of broken glass, and Avi’s face contorted in shock and pain. He let out a gasp and looked down at his chest, where a dribble of red was leaking out of his left pectoral. Reggie stared at it a moment as well, not, at first, comprehending what had happened. There was another burst of glass, and Avi fell backward onto the couch, his eyes opened wide, and between them, a small red hole.
“Get down!” Aaron yelled, and he pulled Reggie to the floor and flattened himself over her. She heard a series of pops, and the window exploded inward under a shower of bullets. “The back door! Stay low!”
Reggie nodded and began to belly crawl toward the kitchen. Aaron swiveled around and linked his arm through the strap of his duffel bag, which still lay on the floor by the coffee table, then followed Reggie, dragging it along behind him. Bullets careened into the furniture and the far wall; Aaron and Reggie were in greater danger of being hit by a ricochet than a direct shot.
A crash came from the street below as the Vours broke through the building’s entryway. Moments later they were thudding up the stairs and banging on the door to the apartment. Reggie heard splintering wood as they tried to wrench it from its hinges.
They had reached the kitchen when the door broke. Reggie threw open the back door as Aaron pulled the gun Machen had given him from the bag.
“What about your mom?” he called.
“She’s gone already. Come on!”
Vours dressed all in black, like SWAT members, poured into the kitchen, but ju
mped back as Aaron fired blindly at them, giving Reggie and himself just enough time to plunge down the fire escape. He smiled smugly as he heard one of them shriek and hit the ground.
Luck was finally on their side: This was the alley Aaron had parked in, and his car was just yards away, the flashers still blinking. Reggie was about to get in the passenger side when she felt a tight grip on her arm.
“Let me go!” she yelled, spinning around. She came face to face with Mitch Kassner.
She hadn’t seen him since the night at the high school when she’d gone into his brother Keech’s fearscape. He was the last person she expected to see now.
“What—what are you doing here?” she asked dumbly.
Mitch was leaner than she remembered, but more muscular. His hair was buzzed into a crew cut. He looked like a marine. His face was unhappy but resolute.
“I’m sorry, Reggie, I’ve got to take you in,” he said.
“I think not.” Aaron cracked the butt of his gun against the back of Mitch’s head. Mitch grunted in pain and dropped to his knees, releasing Reggie. She swung the car door open, slamming him in the face with it and knocking him backward. Seconds later both she and Aaron were in the car; Aaron gunned the engine, and they sped out of the alley, only narrowly missing Mitch as he threw himself after the car.
13
“Aaron, that was Mitch Kassner.”
“I saw.”
“What does it mean?”
“I’m not sure.” Aaron kept his eyes on the road as he wove in and out of traffic.
“He said he needed to ‘take me in.’ You don’t think he’s a Vour now, do you?”
“No. Sorry Night is still the only time Vours can inhabit people.”
“Mitch hated the Vours,” said Reggie. “I refuse to believe he’s in league with them now. It makes no sense.”
“It makes sense if he’s a Tracer,” said Aaron.
“What?”
“I don’t think those were Vours at your mom’s apartment. I think they might have been Tracers.”
“But, how would they know—?” Reggie broke off.
“I don’t know. We’ve got to get back to Machen. This has taken on a whole new complicated level of bad.”
“At least they’ll probably take care of the body,” Reggie muttered. She rubbed her arms, trying to get warm. Her and Aaron’s coats were still hanging in the closet in Mom’s apartment.
“Reggie, do you want to talk about your mom?”
“There’s not much to say. She left. Again.”
“She probably just wanted to get out of the house for a bit. We were torturing her boyfriend.”
“She left me a note,” Reggie said. “ ‘I’m weak,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘You’re better off without me,’ blah blah blah. She wasn’t coming back.”
“I’m sorry, Reg.”
Reggie shrugged. She would have preferred that the conversation end there, but a few minutes later Aaron spoke up again.
“About the other thing… what Avi said…”
“About me being some new species?”
“He could have been lying. You are not a different person than you were.” His words were carefully chosen, but even as he said them, Reggie could hear the doubt in his tone.
“But I am a different person,” she said. “That’s exactly what I am. Day after day seeing people’s worst fears, a series of endless nights—of course I’m different now.”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Aaron protested. “Not that it didn’t affect you… I didn’t mean it that way….”
“I know you didn’t.” Reggie sighed. “But I don’t just mean that I’m emotionally different or whatever psych euphemism you want to use for ‘screwed in the head,’ though I’m sure that’s valid, too. I discovered something the other day.” Reggie told Aaron about her encounter with Dr. Unger in his office and how she had managed to see and push his fears to the forefront of his mind.
At this new news, Aaron turned toward her so abruptly that he nearly steered the car off the road.
“Christ, Reggie! Are you telling me you have a Vour power now?”
“Bully for me, right? So I don’t think Avi was that far off base.”
Aaron exhaled deeply and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
“We’ll figure it out. I promise. This doesn’t prove anything. You had a special power before—now this is just a new one.”
Reggie just looked out the window. She was surprised that she wasn’t more upset—perhaps she was just too exhausted at the moment, or maybe she was in some kind of shock, or maybe it was just too much to wrap her head around. This last one seemed the most likely. They both fell back into silence, which lasted most of the trip. Reggie offered to drive, to give Aaron a chance to rest, but he refused, claiming he was too wired to sleep. They drove through the night and arrived at Machen’s doorstep at a little after four in the morning.
Machen opened the door to them with a look of shock and ushered them inside. Reggie noticed that he had a gun tucked in his waistband; she wondered if it contained tranq darts or bullets.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “Are you both all right?”
“It turns out my mother’s boyfriend was actually the Vour,” Reggie said.
“He must have been inside when Quinn was at the door,” added Aaron. “The chills thing isn’t a foolproof detector.”
“The Vours sent one of their own to date your mother? For what purpose?”
“I think as an insurance policy,” Aaron said. He relayed what Avi had told them.
Reggie felt restless, and while Aaron was talking, she rose and walked around the room, examining various of Machen’s possessions. The apartment was small and sparsely furnished, but neat. The map that he and Aaron had been using to mark Vour activity hung on the wall, and papers were spread out across a desk in the corner.
“Is it okay if I get some water?” she called over.
Machen only nodded and waved her toward the kitchen, keeping his attention focused on Aaron. Reggie wandered back and found a clean glass in a cupboard above the sink. As she was filling it from the tap, she saw another door off to the side and slightly ajar.
She went to it and nudged it open a few more inches. Inside, Macie lay stretched out on what Reggie presumed was Machen’s bed. Her chest rose and fell in even breaths, and her eyes were closed. Machen must have kept her sedated; in that moment Reggie envied her—she actually looked peaceful. Looking at her this way, the possibility that she could be of any use to them seemed remote, even absurd.
As she was about to return to the living room, she noticed that Aaron’s and Machen’s voices had dropped low. She paused behind the door and strained to hear them.
“I’m worried about her,” Aaron was saying. “I’ve never seen her that way. What she did to him to get him to talk—she never would have done that before. And then, I had to stop her from killing him….”
“I’m sure that she wouldn’t really have done it.”
“I don’t know. There was something… deliberately cruel about her. Machen, what if there really is something inside her, something that’s changing her?”
There was a pause, then the sound of shuffling papers.
“Is this what I think it is?” Aaron asked.
Reggie couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Is what what you think it is?” She strode into the room. Machen and Aaron had moved to the desk and were looking at the papers that she had already seen strewn across it. Before they could remove them, she swiped them up and perused them. They appeared to be copies of lab results. “What am I looking at?”
Machen and Aaron eyed each other, but at Reggie’s expectant and impatient look, the former nodded and took the papers from her.
“So this Avi claimed that the Vours think your DNA has something to do with your ability. I found something in Unger’s files that suggests the same thing.”
“What?”
Machen spread the papers back on the d
esk.
“These are test results from a blood workup they did on you. Specifically DNA. It looks like they analyzed samples of your blood and DNA on a weekly basis and recorded the…” Machen hesitated. “The changes.”
“So it’s true. I am some kind of new half-breed freak.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions. From what I can tell, certain chromosomes in your genetic code are, well, they’re turning on.”
“Turning on?”
“Becoming active. But it doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad—all the chromosomes that make you who you are are still functioning normally. Now you just have some… extras.”
“Like a souped-up car. Great.”
The resignation she’d felt earlier seemed to be morphing into something else. Perhaps despair? When it had just been the word of a Vour, it had been possible to believe that it was all a lie, and there was some less horrific explanation for her newfound powers and the cruelty streak Aaron had pointed out. But now scientific proof was staring her in the face. She was physically altered.
“Like I said, there are any number of explanations for this, and you turning into some kind of Vour-human hybrid is far down the list,” Machen said. “I’m going to get into it, but I don’t want you to worry until there’s something concrete to worry about. In the meantime, let’s get back to Avi. Where is he now? Did you defeat his fearscape?”
“Well, a sniper shot him in the head, so, no.”
“What?”
“That’s the other thing,” Aaron said. “We were attacked. At first I assumed they were a Vour hit squad, but now I think they were Tracers. I think they’d found Mrs. Halloway already, too, and had been staking out the place just in case Reggie came calling someday.”
“Why do you think they weren’t Vours?” Machen asked.
“They were trained like soldiers… and Mitch Kassner was with them.”
Machen whistled.
“So they recruited Mitch, did they?”
“They’ve completely brainwashed him,” said Reggie. “He was going to turn me over to them.”
“Of course he was, if he’s really a Tracer,” Machen said. “You know this part. This is where they get the new guys—people whose lives have been damaged by Vours. His certainly qualifies. And with his size and determination and tendency to obey an alpha figure, not to mention a certain comfort with violence and an ax to grind, he’s an excellent new hire for them.”