The Deadlock Trilogy Box Set

by P. T. Hylton

  Zed was talking, speaking to the crowd as he so loved to do, but Christine wasn’t listening. She kept her eyes on her husband. There was no one coming to save them. Jake’s mission to bring back reinforcements from Wendy’s mirror had failed. All the years of trying to protect Trevor were for naught—even worse, he was in Zed’s pocket at that terrible school. Would he be an outcast after this, or would Zed draw him in even deeper?

  Christine stared into her husband's eyes and tried to convey what she felt, the one message she desperately wanted to give him. We tried. No regrets.

  If she understood Regulation 19 correctly—and she was sure she didn’t; no one did at this point—the only possible sentence for her and Will was to be sent ‘Away.’ The only question was for how long. It was a fairly genius plan really, Christine had to admit. There was something terrifying about serving a ten-year sentence right now in some unknown land, serving the whole sentence in what seemed like the blink of an eye to any onlookers. That was much more terrifying than the prospect of twenty years in NTCC. And now, with Earl’s suddenly missing fingers, it would be even more frightening.

  Christine squeezed her eyes shut. Whatever ‘Away’ meant, she and Will would have a firsthand look soon. Regulation 19 didn’t seem to leave a lot of room for appeal. The only reason it had taken Frank so long to be sentenced was that Zed had to build that necklace with the gold loop. Now that it was complete, assuming Zed had made more than one of them, it was entirely possible Christine and Will would be convicted and sentenced right on the stage in mere moments. She only hoped that wherever they ended up, they would be together.

  Christine twisted her head to see Frank. Two police officers held his arms. Zed approached him, saying things that were meant to sound formal and official, but were really another way of saying, “You’re screwed.” Zed reached out, touched the gold loop on Frank’s necklace, and Frank was gone.

  Christine felt herself gasp. It came out much louder than she would have expected considering she was being crushed by a two-hundred-pound cop. Then she realized it wasn’t only her own voice she was hearing, but it was the sound of the crowd who had gasped along with her.

  This wasn’t like the last two times. Those had been shocking enough with the convicted suddenly changing right in front of the crowd, their outward appearance evidence of the time they had spent in the Away. This was different, and, as bad as those first two were, this was worse.

  Frank wasn’t changed; he was gone. He hadn’t been killed; he simply no longer existed. He was gone and he would never return. A wave of nausea washed over Christine. A life had been taken out of the world in a wholly unnatural way. The laws of the universe, both the laws of nature and the laws of morality, had been broken. Christine looked into the crowd and from the disturbed looks on some of their faces, she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

  Christine turned and noticed Trevor for the first time. When had he stepped onto the stage? He was squatting near where Frank had been a moment ago. He was staring at his outstretched empty hand.

  Zed turned and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. He looked at the crowd for a long moment, and Christine realized he was gauging them, checking their temperature. He had been about to make a triumphant speech, but the bastard was so in tune with his audience that he caught himself. He course corrected even before speaking.

  “My friends,” he said. “Our path is not easy, and our burden is not light. We do what we do for our children and for the future of this great town. Believe me, I take no joy in what we’ve had to do. No joy at all. And sadly our work today is not yet done.” Zed looked at Will, then at Christine.

  Christine’s heart sank. She had hoped she would have a little time, maybe to explain things to Trevor, but clearly that was not to be the case. Zed stared at her, his lips pressed together. The effect made his wide smile even more eerie than usual.

  A high, long note suddenly filled the air and Christine instinctively put her hands over her ears. For a moment she thought it was the song of the Unfeathered—it had the same otherworldly feel to it, but it didn’t quite sound like them. It sounded like someone whistling.

  Christine turned to the crowd and her eyes searched for the source of the sound. She noticed that everyone was looking upward. The sound was coming from above. Her eyes moved up, and she scanned the sky, looking for the Unfeathered. Then she saw him.

  Christine gasped. His hair hung past his shoulders and it was more gray than black. He was dressed in strategically tied rags of denim and what looked like an old t-shirt. His face was a crisscross of scars. But there was no mistaking him.

  Frank Hinkle stood on the edge of the roof of City Hall, and he was whistling.

  2.

  The first thing that hit Frank was the light. After living in the cold, diffused glow of the Away for so long, he had forgotten how hot sunlight felt. It hit him like a physical blow. He had trouble gaining his balance and almost tumbled off the roof. What an ending to the grand plan that would have been. He had intended to start whistling the moment he arrived, but that damn light.

  He had spent a long time—days? weeks? so hard to tell—trying to find the exact right place to reappear. He had squeezed himself in between stone-statue bodies in the crowd, checked out nearly every possible line of sight in the crowd itself, and even thought about appearing right behind Zed so he could give him a nice sucker punch right in the kidney.

  But in the end he had decided that what he was after was shock and awe. The rooftop gave him that and more. From up here it all seemed so manageable and small. It looked like a problem to be solved rather than a city to be saved. He might not be a hero but he had always been a problem solver. He’d gotten back, hadn’t he?

  He guessed that it had taken him about two years to find the key. That might have been wildly inaccurate. One of the worst parts of the Away had been the absence of the passage of time. His body felt it—oh, how it felt it—but the rest of the world was at a standstill. He aged without knowing how much.

  He had started whistling at the Unfeathered one day out of boredom. It had been a day when his belly was full and he couldn’t stand to look for the key anymore. The idea occurred to him that if he could imitate the song of the Ones Who Sing, maybe he could learn to imitate the Unfeathered, too.

  It hadn’t been easy. It had taken a long time, but he had managed to blend in with their song. Even though they couldn’t seem to see him, they were able to hear him. Or at least hear his whistle. The Unfeathered in the Away didn’t sing often, so that made it more difficult. Over time, he had begun to notice the subtleties in their song. The long, slow call of the ‘I’ve found a safe place’ song. The sharp piercing notes of the ‘Danger! Flee!’ song. The rapid trill of the ‘Help!’ song.

  It had been a fun distraction at first, and then he began using it as a tool. He called the Unfeathered to him as he worked and used them as an early detection system for the Ones Who Sing. He called them when he needed to kill one for food. He sent them away when their smell began to bother him. A few times he had even caused them to attack the Ones Who Sing just to see if he could do it. But they never attacked him. When he whistled, they saw him as one of their own.

  After a long while, he had thought of how they might fit into his plan for Rook Mountain.

  He’d search the town street by street, house by house. He’d started with any place that had a connection to Will, Christine, Sean, or Wendy. When that hadn’t turned up anything, he’d started a more systematic search of the town. Finally, in an office building on the south side of town, he’d discovered an office with Will’s name on the door. There was a closet in the office with one of Frank’s locks on it. Inside he had found the cane, the mirror, and the key.

  Now he stood on the roof of City Hall and whistled a sharp series of notes. The song was high and loud. It was the ‘Help!’ song. The song that would bring them most quickly. The song that would ensure they attacked everything in sight. The song that would ove
rride the effects of the daylight and of Zed’s mysterious empty box.

  They came even more quickly than he had anticipated. They filled the sky, little moving clusters of white coming from all directions of the compass. Frank kept whistling as he watched their aerial dance. These Unfeathered were quicker than the ones he had grown so familiar with in the Away. He had forgotten how deadly the Birdies here could be. He had a moment’s doubt—had he doomed the people of Rook Mountain by calling the Unfeathered down?—but he didn’t stop whistling.

  They came from all directions, but they gathered around him. They swarmed above him like a cloud, a deadly mass of wings, beaks, and claws. He changed the timbre of his whistle, trying to calm them, keep them from attacking as long as he could. He needed them right where they were—above City Hall.

  The people in the crowd fled. They ran to their vehicles, into nearby stores, the high school and middle school buildings. But most importantly to Frank, they ran away.

  Only a few ran into City Hall. Police officers and the members of Zed’s inner circle. Frank knew that only the most dedicated Zed Heads would be thinking of capturing little Frank Hinkle while the sky was filled with monsters.

  He only had a few moments. It wouldn’t be long before police officers burst through the trapdoor that led to the roof and took Frank down. He couldn’t afford to wait much longer. He looked down toward the ground and saw—thank God—that Christine, Will, and Trevor were all out of sight. He only hoped they would know what to do with what he had left them. A lone figure stood on the stage looking up at him. It was hard to tell from this distance, but Frank was almost certain Zed wasn’t smiling.

  Frank let out a long high note—the call to attack—and the cloud of Unfeathered dove toward the ground.

  There was no controlling them now. He had released the feral creatures on the people of Rook Mountain and there would be no take backs.

  The flock spread out as they neared the ground. Many pursued the poor members of the crowd who were still searching for cover, but a good-sized group of the creatures headed for the stage—for Zed. A swarm of at least ten Unfeathered fell on him, and he disappeared from sight as they attacked, their beaks raining down with relentless speed. Frank was certain it wouldn’t kill Zed, but it would keep him busy for a few minutes.

  Frank’s need for the Unfeathered was over. He stopped whistling and turned away from the carnage on the ground. Frank had thought long and hard about what would happen next. He had played out the possible outcomes in his mind hundreds of times and only about half of them ended with him doing any lasting good for the people of Rook Mountain. Even less of the outcomes ended with him surviving the next thirty minutes.

  He had planned things out as well as he could, as well as he knew how to in the Away, but a lot had to fall into place for them to have any chance. So much depended on Will, Christine, and Trevor. So much depended on the board of selectmen. So much depended on Zed. Trust was most definitely a must.

  Frank stood on the roof and waited for them to arrive.

  3.

  “Will! Will!”

  Will heard his name being called as if from a distance. His eyes were glued to his old friend standing on the roof of City Hall, his suddenly gray hair blowing in the wind. The man up there barely looked human, and he certainly didn’t sound it. A mass of white creatures circled above his head. The people around Will were screaming and running away, but he still laid on the stage, transfixed by his friend’s dramatic reappearance.

  “Will!” the voice said again. Will looked in front of him and saw a pair of sneakered feet. He also saw the open knife on the ground next to his hand. Somehow it must have gotten lost in the skirmish between Zed and Christine. Will reached forward and picked it up. He felt the familiar jolt he always experienced when he touched one of the Tools, and he felt himself beginning to drift.

  “Will!” The voice was sharp this time, its patience gone. Will looked up and saw Trevor staring down at him. Maybe it was the angle, but Trevor looked more grown up than he ever had before.

  “Will, we gotta go.”

  Will nodded absently. He wasn’t sure if it was the way he had been knocked to the ground or the events unfolding around him, but everything seemed unreal. It all seemed distant. He shook his head to clear it. Trevor needed him. Christine needed him.

  Will said, “Let’s get to the car, fast. Where’s your mother?”

  “No,” Trevor said. It wasn’t a defiant no, the one Will was so used to hearing lately; it was a ‘you don’t understand’ no. “The police officers. Zed. The selectmen. They all ran into City Hall. They're going after Uncle Frank. We have to help him.”

  He almost started to say something like, “How are we supposed to help him?” or “We already tried,” but he saw the determined, man-with-a-job-to-do look on Trevor’s face. It was a look Will had seen on Jake’s face many times over the years. A looked of righteous resolve. There would be no talking the kid out of this. And, Will had to admit, Trevor was right. If ever Frank needed their help, it was now. Even if Will had no earthly idea how they could help him.

  Will looked down at the knife in his hand and sighed. It was something. It might not be able to cut Zed’s throat, but it was something.

  Will nodded to Trevor. “Let’s go.” They stepped off the stage and turned toward City Hall. Then Will stopped. “Wait. Where’s your mom?”

  At that moment, Frank’s whistle from above changed into a high pitched single note, and, like a rain, the Unfeathered descended on them.

  They were only fifteen feet from the doors of City Hall. Will threw his arm around Trevor’s shoulders and pulled him toward the door. He glanced back at the stage and saw a pile of white wings where Zed had been a moment before. The man would have his work cut out for him getting out of there.

  Will grabbed the door to City Hall and pulled it open. He shoved Trevor inside and then followed him, pulling the door shut behind him.

  “Your mom,” Will said. “Did you see where she went?”

  Trevor shook his head. His eyes were still on the attacking Unfeathered outside. “I saw her running. I think she was heading this direction, but I’m not sure.” The look of confidence melted from his face. He looked like a scared little boy again, the same way he had looked when Jake had disappeared years ago.

  Will put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she made it. She’s probably ten steps ahead of us as usual.”

  Trevor nodded. He turned and glanced down the hallway. “Do you know how to get to the roof?”

  Before Will could answer, the door burst open behind them. Greg Darrow stumbled in, his suit rumpled and his hair uncharacteristically messy. He was carrying a baseball bat. Greg was on the board of selectmen. In the days before becoming a Zed Head, he had been a burnout stoner who delivered pizzas, but he had taken to the bureaucratic lifestyle quickly, traded weed for whiskey, and gained thirty pounds to fill out his cheap suits.

  The walkie-talkie clipped to Greg’s belt chirped to life. “Darrow! Get your ass up there! Meet on the roof.”

  Greg Darrow glanced down the hallway, his eyes finding the doorways, scanning them as if looking for the most welcoming candidate.

  “Now!” yelled the voice coming from the walkie-talkie. Darrow licked his lips and glanced at Will and Trevor. Then he nodded, as if to himself.

  Will had been in the presence of selectmen many times. As the head of the Certification program, he could hardly avoid it. They always prided themselves on their signature entrances and exits. They stepped into a closet or an empty room and shut the door. There was a flash of blue light and they were gone. Will had often wondered what it would be like to be behind that closed door and watch as they disappeared. Would they blink out of existence and reappear elsewhere at the same moment? Would it be like Star Trek, with their bodies slowly dissolving?

  As he watched Greg Darrow, Will got his answer.

  Greg closed his eyes and pushed his fingers into his temples. His head bega
n to vibrate. Then Greg Darrow melted.

  It started with his feet. His shoes seemed to liquefy and drip onto the floor. Then his socks and the lower part of his pants oozed away. Then the skin of his feet melted, joining the liquefied goo puddling under him. Blood first seeped and then poured from his exposed muscles and blood vessels until they too melted. The baseball bat in his hand melted and joined the puddle on the floor. The process worked its way upward and inward, his pants, underwear and shirt dissolving so that his torso was left naked for only a moment until the skin melted and his inner layers were exposed.

  Will heard Trevor gasp as Greg’s stomach muscles disappeared and his intestines spilled out of their cavity, flopping onto the floor with a splash of blood before they too melted away. Their last glimpse of Darrow was his skinless face floating atop his liquefied body, his mouth open in a silent scream and his brain beginning to show through his melting skull. Then there was a flash of blue light and the whole mess of him disappeared.

  Will looked at the clean spot where the liquefied remains of a human being had been only moments before. “Damn. Guess that’s why they close the door.”

  “Will, look,” Trevor said. He was pointing toward a door marked STAIRS.

  “Let’s go,” Will said.

  Trevor went through the door first and dashed up the stairs. Will followed, pushing himself to keep up. Whatever was at the top of those stairs, Will didn’t want Trevor facing it alone.

  As they ran, Will thought back to that day on Rook Mountain. The day he killed Jessie Cooper. Maybe if he had been brave enough to break his precious cover things would be different today. He had held onto to his cover for far too long. What he had rationalized as caution was really cowardice. The time spent living with his family, even under the oppression of Zed and the Regulations, had been a precious time. But this—standing up to Zed with his family by his side—was even better.

  Trevor reached the top of the steps and started up the ladder to the roof. Will stayed right behind him. Trevor stepped out onto the roof and froze. Will followed, grabbed his stepson and stepped in front of him. He didn’t know what Trevor had seen, but he wanted to protect Trevor from whatever it was. Then Will saw it too.