The Deadlock Trilogy Box Set

by P. T. Hylton

  His eyelids were getting heavy now. He smiled at her, trying to get his face to express what he couldn’t put into words anymore.

  “Is that Sean Lee?” one of the officers asked.

  “Ma’am, get away from that man!”

  “Dispatch! We’ve got an officer down!”

  Sean knew he only had moments left. He’d lost far too much blood already.

  The voices blurred together. His vision was narrowing now, but he focused on her face. He concentrated on her eyes. He looked into them for as long as he could, until his own eyes closed. The pain faded, until it was like a distant speck of light. Then the world went dark.

  6. Sanctuary

  “Where is Zed?” the man with the beard asked.

  Sophie nudged Jake’s arm. “You sure you don’t know this guy?”

  Jake’s eyes didn’t leave the man. “Pretty damn sure.”

  The man kept walking toward them.

  “Sophie, give me the book,” Jake whispered. “Now.”

  She fumbled with the zipper on the backpack. She got it open wide enough to shove her hand inside and grab the book, then yanked it out and tossed it to him.

  The man looked at Sophie and tilted his head, as if seeing her for the first time. “You’ve done well.”

  “What does he mean?” Jake asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  Jake suddenly thought of Carver, poor one-armed Carver. He’d been staying in the Welcome Wagon. “What happened to the man who was in the house?”

  “He’s still in there,” the man said. “I made sure he couldn’t leave after I started the fire.”

  Sophie gasped.

  “You started all these fires?” Jake asked, a quiver in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Sophie asked. “Why would you do that?”

  The man shrugged. He was looking past them into the trees. “People aren’t needed here. I don’t like needless things.”

  “Who are you?” Jake asked.

  The man looked at him, and Jake could feel that stare, like a hot thing burning into him. “I’m your better. Where is Zed?”

  Jake opened the book and flipped through the pages. This would hurt. Usually he spent a day or so preparing his mind for the task. He’d only done it once before without the preparation, the time he had banished Zed, and that had hurt him. But there wasn’t time to think about that now.

  The bearded man squinted at the book. “How did you get that? It doesn’t belong to you.”

  Jake ignored him and concentrated on the page in front of him. Usually, he could see the shape he needed to trace on the page, but it was fuzzy now, like it was hiding from him. He concentrated harder, willing his mind to see what he knew was there.

  “How many?” Sophie asked in a brash voice. She was trying to distract the man, Jake realized. Trying to buy him a little more time to do what needed to be done. “How many people did you kill?”

  Jake thought he had the shape now. He was almost certain he could see it. He set his finger on the book and began to drag it across the page. He grunted in pain and surprise. It felt like a razor was cutting into his skull. It had never felt like this before. But he had to keep going.

  The man’s voice sounded bored when he answered Sophie’s question. “All of them. I killed all the ones in the cabins. I will kill the people in the big house after I find Zed.”

  “No!” Sophie screamed, and Jake pulled his eyes away from the book and looked at her. She had her gun pointed at the man.

  The bearded man moved toward her with freakish quickness, caught her by the throat, and held her at arm’s length, staring at her like she was an unidentified substance on the bottom of his shoe.

  Jake turned back to the book. It was Sophie’s only hope now. He worked faster, dragging his finger across the page. It was more difficult than it had ever been. Every millimeter of progress sent waves of agony through his brain. He felt wetness on his neck and realized both his ears were bleeding.

  The man with the beard held up his empty hand and stared at it. His fingers were growing longer. He bared his teeth at Jake. “Stop that!”

  Jake kept working. He wanted to help Sophie, but the best way to do that was by finishing. He was almost there, but it hurt so badly. This man was strong—maybe stronger than Zed—and he was fighting hard against what Jake was doing.

  Jake thought of his family, both the one back in Rook Mountain and the one here in Sanctuary. For their sakes, he had to keep going.

  “No!” the man yelled. “I command you to stop!”

  But it was too late. Jake was almost done.

  The hand holding Sophie grew, and she slipped from his grip and fell gasping to the ground.

  Jake was almost there. All he had to do was connect his starting point to his ending point. But, no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn’t do it. His finger wouldn’t move any further. It was like trying to move through concrete. His mind felt like it would explode, but he kept pushing. He kept pushing until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Stop,” Sophie said in a scratchy voice. “You got him. You have to stop.”

  “No,” Jake said. “It’s not finished.”

  “But it is. Just look.”

  He looked up and saw a short, broad tree where the man had been standing a few moments before. It wasn’t right. He knew it wasn’t. He could make out the man’s nose and mouth in the pattern of the bark. It wasn’t finished. It might not hold.

  But Sophie was right. He had to stop. He couldn’t push any harder. He dropped the book and fell to his knees.

  Sophie put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  He started to answer, but a coughing fit came over him. When it passed he saw the hand that had been covering his mouth was wet with blood.

  Sophie said, “Jake—”

  A loud cracking sound interrupted her. Jake struggled to his feet and turned toward the sound. White light was pouring from the tree behind him. And a silhouette stood in the middle of the light. It was someone was trying to come through.

  “What now?” Sophie asked in a weary voice.

  “No,” Jake whispered. “I think it’s okay.” He staggered toward the tree. When he reached it, he squinted into the light.

  “Who is that? What are you doing?”

  A familiar voice came out of the tree. “Jake! It’s Frank.”

  IN THE WOODS (PART SEVEN)

  1. From the Book of the Broken World

  I’m from Sugar Plains, but so is everyone else. I mean, technically that’s not true. Some of the older folk are from elsewhere. Some of them moved here when they were kids or whatever. But, seeing as Sugar Plains is the last town in existence (as far as we know), it’s a pretty safe bet you already knew where I was from.

  They tell me Sugar Plains was part of a group of towns called Illinois. The last letter was silent. The old folks always make a big deal if someone says it wrong. There were fifty of these groups of towns, and together they made an even bigger group called a country. But that was a long time ago, back when people traveled from town to town and even to other parts of the world. I don’t really know why they even make a point of teaching that history stuff to us. It’s like algebra. I’ll never use it. That was a different time and a different world. People went wherever they wanted, even at night. The Unfeathered didn’t even exist. Or maybe they did, but people hadn’t discovered them. (Or they hadn’t discovered how tasty people are—ha ha).

  Anyway, the whole point of this assignment is for me to pretend you aren’t from Sugar Plains. Like, maybe you found this paper a thousand years in the future and wanted to know what life was like in Sugar Plains in 2019. Like you don’t have better things to do than read some essay by a kid who barely passed Sophomore English. But, I’m trying to get into the spirit of things. I really am. My mom always tells me I am too literal. So, deep breath, serious face, here we go.

  In 1985 (eighteen years before I was born
, if you care), the Unfeathered showed up in Sugar Plains in the middle of the night. They killed a bunch of people. Everyone freaked out and hid in their homes. You get the idea. Have you seen Night of the Living Dead? (Do they have VHS in whatever year you are from?) It was like that, except with Unfeathered instead of zombies.

  So, that all went on for a few days. Then this drifter dude named Zed goes to the mayor and says he can stop the Unfeathered. The mayor thinks he’s crazy. In the mayor’s defense, Zed supposedly slept on park benches and no one would go near him. But, what’s the mayor got to lose, right? So he goes with it. And here comes the twist. Zed actually does stop the Unfeathered. It’s like they’re locked out of Sugar Plains. So as long as no one leaves town, we’re all cool.

  It turns out Zed’s some kind of genius, and he starts figuring out how Sugar Plains is going to survive long term. He comes up with the Regulations to keep the town safe. He sends a few specialists out to gather food and supplies from surrounding towns. He starts a special school to train all the brainiac kids in town. (Guess what? Yours truly wasn’t invited. Guess what else? His idiot sister was.)

  Things went on like that for fifteen or twenty years. Sure, it wasn’t all as smooth as I’m making it sound. I’m sure there are tons of details my teacher, the beautiful and talented Ms. Jones who is sure to appreciate my efforts on this essay, would prefer I include. But, honestly, the only thing you really need to know about is the rebellion.

  This one happened while I was alive. Granted, I was only two, but still. A bunch of people in town decided they didn’t like the way Zed was running the show, and they tried to kill him. They didn’t have the manpower to fight the town head-on, so they started engaging in guerrilla warfare. They captured one of the police officers, tossed him across the town line, and watched the Unfeathered tear him apart. Stuff like that. Real swell group of fellas. They started fires and killed people and raised general mayhem. It went on almost a month before the police were able to stop it. They say Zed himself got involved.

  Now I know what you’re probably thinking. If things in Sugar Plains are as good as I am saying, why would anyone want to revolt? I guess we’ll never know the answer to that question. But it’s happened before, right? People don’t know how good they have it. They start imagining things could be better. Maybe after a while simply following the forty-three Regulations started to feel like a burden. Maybe having their food and clothes and everything else they might need provided to them by the RESPys each week started to feel too comfortable and they took it for granted.

  There’s this story my mom told me. She heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend, so who knows if it’s true. But I’m gonna tell it anyway. Sometimes the story and what it means is more important than whether or not it’s true, you know? Zed has this pocket watch he always carries (that part is true for sure, I’ve seen it). Apparently during the rebellion the traitors stole Zed’s watch. They had it for a few days before the police got it back for him. And what did Zed do when he finally captured those rebels? He didn’t hang them or torture them or any of that stuff. He just made them disappear. Apparently a couple cops saw it happen. One second they were there and the next they were gone forever.

  I tell that story to illustrate why the outlaws were wrong. They called Zed evil. Some of them even said he’d brought the Unfeathered here himself. But he proved them wrong with the efficient and merciful way he dealt with them. If he were evil, he would have made them suffer.

  So if you’re wondering why I have hope for the future, that’s the reason. Forget everything that’s happened lately. Trust is a must. That’s what Zed always says, and I agree. While the rest of the world was being destroyed by the Unfeathered, Zed saved us. And he can do it again.

  If you want the first-hand account of what happened next, here goes. I was eleven when it started. Things changed. Or shifted. I’m not sure of the best way to say it. I would be walking home from school and suddenly I’d be standing in a park on the other side of town. It wasn’t like I moved. It was more like the town did. It was sort of chaos there for a little while, but Zed stepped in again with a new set of regulations to make things right. And then it got better. I mean, Regulation 35, no more cars, trucks, or motorcycles, how many lives has that one alone saved?

  Other things started to change. These little trees started popping up around town. Zed figured out they could help us. Just like normal trees remove carbon dioxide from the air, these trees would help stabilize the town. And he was right. The shifting thing started happening less often.

  The trees aren’t so little anymore, of course. They grow much faster than any normal tree. The one in my yard has got to be fifty feet tall now. But the good news is the town’s getting bigger too. It’s like the land itself is growing with the trees. My walk to school used to be half a mile. Now it’s three-quarters. And the landscape is changing. Hills are developing. I remember when I was a kid this place was flat as a pancake (it is called Sugar Plains, after all). Now, not so much.

  Zed has changed a bit, too. He used to be around a lot more when I was a kid. He was always making speeches at different events. He even talked at my grade school a couple times. Now, we don’t see him quite as much. And, when we do, he’s got this book with him. He says the trees are more than trees. They are locks. And he says the book is a way to unlock them.

  Here’s where it gets exciting. Once the trees are fully grown, Zed says we’ll be able to use them as doorways to other special places, places that are important like Sugar Plains. He says we might even be able to use them to travel into the future. Or the past.

  He did this little demonstration in town square last Regulation Day. One of the biggest trees is there. He did something with that book of his, and a tiny beam of light shot out of the tree. It was about the size of a pea, and it only lasted for a minute. But Zed says as the tree gets bigger, so will the hole. Eventually, it’ll be a doorway and we’ll be able to leave it open for days at a time.

  I don’t know exactly how long it’ll take before that happens, and I’m not sure if Zed does either. All I know is I hope I live to see it. I would love to walk through a doorway and be on the other side of the world. Or maybe go back to before the Unfeathered came. I think I’d love to drive a car. Maybe a convertible, like in the movies. I’d speed down the street, wind in my hair, not a single Unfeathered in the sky. Or maybe travel into the future and see how society turns out. I could see all the statues of Zed and the leaders of Sugar Plains

  So, hypothetical future man or lady, that’s the way things are in Sugar Plains in 2019. We live in a transitional time. That’s what Zed always says. I am proud to be alive in this strange time, and I am proud to be a citizen of Sugar Plains.

  I don’t know what will happen next, but I trust it’ll be interesting. Trust is a must.

  2.

  The entry ended there. Frank flipped through the rest of the book, but all he saw were drawings of trees and words written in a strange language he couldn’t read. He closed the book and a shiver went through him.

  The story of Sugar Plains eerily mirrored one that was all too familiar to him. The realization that Zed had done this before, that Rook Mountain wasn’t Zed’s first attempt to take over a town, hit Frank like a bowling ball to the gut. Those trees in the story...were they the trees that surrounded him now? Was he in the former Sugar Plains, Illinois?

  He ran his fingers through his hair as he thought. It didn’t make sense. If Zed had taken another town outside of time in 1985, wouldn’t somebody have noticed? What about all the missing people? This should have been a huge news story.

  Another chilling thought: what if Sugar Plains wasn’t Zed’s first time either? How many times had he done this?

  He stood up and looked at the compass in his hand. He’d asked the compass for information on how to get out of here, and it had shown him those pages. Did that mean the trees were his way out? And if that was true...if the trees really were gateways to other tim
es and places...if time was no longer an uncrossable barrier…

  He pressed the broken clock symbol and spoke his direction aloud. “Take me to the tree that gets me to Jake.”

  The needle on the compass spun clockwise a quarter turn and stuck there. Frank took a deep breath to quell the rising hope within him and stepped out of the cabin.

  He followed the needle for nearly half an hour. It was a nerve-wracking journey, his eyes constantly flicking between the compass, the ground, and the trees, hoping he wouldn’t see any of the Larvae and at the same time hoping he’d see one so that it couldn’t catch him by surprise.

  He spotted four Larvae on his walk, but he managed to skirt around them without incident.

  Finally, he arrived at the tree. He walked around it once and watched the needle turn with his movements, making sure this was the tree the needle was locked onto.

  The entry said Zed used the book to open the gateway. Thank God for this stupid compass, he thought. Once again, the compass guided him to the correct page.

  The page was covered with a dozen drawings of trees of various sizes in various artistic styles. The compass pointed him to one particular drawing.

  He paused for a moment. What did he do now?

  “You have to trace the picture with your finger.”

  The deep, baritone voice startled him. His head snapped up and he saw the bearded man, the man he had seen standing behind Mason at the stream, standing ten feet in front of him. Frank could see more than just his face now.

  The man was dressed in what Frank could only describe as a tunic. It was a loose fitting bluish item of clothing that covered him from shoulder to ankle. It was sleeveless, revealing the man’s thick, well-muscled arms. His beard was a bushy, dirty thing with bits of twigs lodged in it. His face and arms were splattered with mud.

  “Who the hell are you?” Frank asked. Zed had seemed afraid at the mention of this man. Anyone who didn’t get along with Zed could be an ally.