The Object: Book One (Object Series)

by Emerson, Winston

  "They're dead, Lillia. One of those things, those--" He pointed at his head. "Those big things, it came down and took them."

  She was shaking her head and saying, "No, that's not true."

  Hayden leaned forward. "Some people broke in, and Drake got shot, but they got away. Sherman was trying to take him to the hospital. Then everything went crazy. There's a man somewhere in this city who has one of these things on his head. He's killing people, burning down buildings. We might be the only ones who can stop him."

  "I have to find Drake and Kate."

  "Lillia, Sherman saw him. The same guy I dreamed about last night. I dreamed about Drake and Kate, too. I saw one of those things come down and take them."

  "What do you mean take them?" she yelled. "How did it take them?"

  He sighed, struggled to think of what to say. "Lillia, it sucked them up in one of its tentacles. It ate them."

  He tried to stop her but she yanked her arm from his grip and screamed, "Stay away from me!"

  Then she left.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  "I know those two," Meredith said. "They were at the hospital. She had these things in her hair."

  "Dreadlocks?" Trey asked.

  Meredith looked at him strangely. "How did you know that?"

  Trey shrugged. "Hey, can I have fifty cents for the jukebox?"

  "The jukebox is fifty cents?" Roger asked.

  "Yeah, I checked on the way in."

  Roger fished some change out of his pocket and gave it to Trey. When Trey stood, Pete tried to go with him, but Trey whispered, "Stay here, Pete. I'll be right back."

  Roger watched him go and his eyes returned to the boy whose girlfriend had just screamed at him before running out of the restaurant. The boy was staring back. Not at him but at Meredith.

  "Is everything okay?" Roger asked.

  "Not even close," the boy said.

  Roger couldn't help but think he looked familiar. Something about his eyes.

  "You gonna chase after her?"

  The boy shook his head. "Don't know there's a point. I know where she's going anyway."

  "The library," Roger said.

  "Yeah, I guess you heard that."

  "Everybody did. Maybe you should go after her. She shouldn't be by herself."

  "It's useless," he said. "If you knew the whole story . . ."

  "I think I might," Roger said. "I was there. What you were talking about. The man who looked like he'd been barbequed. And the cat."

  "The cat?" the boy said. "What cat?"

  "I was taking care of this girl's cat. He was like a human. I know that sounds crazy. He understood what I was saying. We had this whole system--" He stopped. "Anyway, I was there. I watched all that stuff go down."

  "Maybe you should go tell her that," he said, standing. He stepped up to Roger's table and spoke in a lower voice. "I'm going to go find that man and kill him. I think he's looking for her."

  Roger leaned forward. "Do you think you can take him on? He's more than human, you know. If you really saw what he can do. How about you just come with us?"

  "I don't have time," he said.

  A spoon lifted from the table and melted in front of Roger's face. Then the cold yet molten material, drifting like water in zero gravity, collapsed on itself to form a perfectly round ball no wider than a quarter. It solidified, generating a rough surface with edges and depressions. A model of the object or the Earth, something for debate.

  The boy plucked the little memento out of the air. Then he handed it to Roger. "Give her that."

  Roger took the thing and studied it. "What is it?"

  "I don't know," the boy said. "But if she hates me, she'll toss it, and if she doesn't hate me, she'll keep it. We have a room at the hotel down the street. Bring her back if you can."

  "We're staying there too," Roger said, but the boy turned and headed out of the restaurant.

  Trey passed by him and returned to the table.

  "Jukebox is broke."

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Barry pulled the metal door open and stepped out onto the roof of the National City Tower, the second tallest building in the city. Derek waited for him at the north ledge, suit jacket and tie flapping behind him in the wind. From up here, the belly of the object looked significantly closer, more discernable. It looked to have metallic caves and mountains, perhaps entry points and navigation systems. A marvel to look upon. One might be capable of exploring its terrain, if properly equipped.

  Derek looked back and saw him coming. He was leaning on the ledge but now he stood straight, hands in his pockets.

  "Did you hear about the news chopper going down?" he shouted as Barry approached.

  Barry waited until he was close to answer. "No," he said.

  "The marines did it. After they shot out that overpass. Something happened, Barry. Orders were changed. I've had surveillance units on these rooftops since yesterday morning. They've got demolition crews rigging up the bridges, Spaghetti Junction, and I bet they're gonna blast craters in the roads, too. They're sealing us off, man. I wanted you to come up here and watch. My boys think it's happening soon. Like within the next few minutes."

  "How the hell would they know that?"

  "Sound amplifiers." Derek turned to face the Ohio River. "Just watch and see. I bet we get nuked by the end of the day. I'm getting out of here."

  "You've got to be crazy to want to leave this."

  "Leave what?"

  Barry raised his arms out. "All of it. Everything. I feel something, Derek. An energy in the air. It's coming from that. Don't you feel it?"

  "No," Derek said. "You're crazy. You've got to be crazy to want to stay here."

  Barry felt his cell phone vibrating and pulled it out of his pocket.

  "Hello?"

  "Yo, one of my boys found your girl. She's at the library."

  "University?"

  "Nah, Fourth Street. Public library."

  Ray hung up, and Barry smiled as he returned the phone to his pocket.

  The explosions rocked the building and sent such tremendous thunder across the city that many probably thought this their final moment. The skyline lit up with fire and debris and the two visible bridges collapsed in sections into the river, the water surface treacherous with choppy waves and debris.

  On land, the interweaving highways and entrance ramps known as Spaghetti Junction went up in one simultaneous explosion, generating a dark gray cloud of dust and smoke that grew so rapidly it might well reach the object.

  "You believe me now?" Derek shouted into the wind and lingering thunder. He was terrified. Pitiful. He'd always been such a baby.

  "I had sex with your wife," Barry said. He laughed. "Five times."

  "What?" Derek took a step forward.

  "She's got that little four-leaf clover tattoo on her inner thigh, you know what I'm talking about? She showed it to me at your birthday party, after you'd passed out in a lawn chair. Said she was hoping to get lucky. We did it on your bed. Then four more times before I got bored with her."

  Derek reached for his gun but Barry fell upon him, yanking his wrist with a twisting motion and easily taking the gun from his limp fingers. He pushed Derek to the ground and heaved the gun over the side of the building.

  "People who fear for their lives on a daily basis are the ones who have no life worth preserving. They mask that truth with their fear. You're pathetic. You think you're going to escape this city? No, that would be a bold move, something you're not capable of. The only way you'd leave this city is if I led you by the hand. But I'm not going to, Derek. In fact, I'd kill you right now if I had time. As it happens, I have to be somewhere more important right now. So you just carry on."

  Barry turned toward the door to the stairwell.

  Derek shouted, "How can you talk to me this way? As much as I've done for you? As much money as I helped you steal? I'm your brother, damn you."

  "You're not even my sister," Barry said, laughing hysterically as he left Derek calling
out to him on the roof.

  When he stepped out the lobby doors to the street, he stopped to inspect Derek's splattered body on the sidewalk, only to confirm the body's identity, before jogging to his car.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  The only way Hayden could think to start was just driving around the major roads all throughout the city, hoping he would sense Ted the way he sensed Lillia, her signal growing fainter as she ran farther away.

  He got a whiff of a feeling coming up Fourth Street, lost it, then picked it up again as he drew closer to the downtown area.

  At Broadway he took a left and then an immediate right onto Fifth Street, continuing north. He knew it ended at West Main Street.

  He felt a left turn coming. Then Ted would be close.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Sherman awoke on the bench where he'd sat drinking and talking to himself half the night, then finally passing out with an empty bottle in his hand. He was close to the road, his back to the iron fence in front of the Louisville Slugger Museum.

  It was morning. He peered behind him in both directions, instinctively looking for cops. He didn't see a soul.

  Except for one. Sherman caught him out of the corner of his eye. Down the street stood a four-story building with gothic arches in its windows and features of a castle, including in the right corner a cone-roofed bell tower. On the tip of the roof was perched a dark figure, a silhouette barely visible against the brownish backdrop of the object.

  It was watching him.

  When he tried to stand, it came bounding through the air like a hawk and landed right in front of him. It was Ted. His skin charred and hanging off, part of his jawbone exposed, several ribs showing where a section of his side had burned off completely. His clothes were mere rags still clinging to their stitching. He had no lips or eyelids.

  Sherman tried to back away and fell onto the bench. The smell of Ted brought him close to vomiting. Then he did.

  "Where is she?" Ted hissed.

  Sherman shook his head, spitting bile onto the sidewalk.

  "Tell me," Ted said.

  "I don't know where she's at, man. Ain't nothin' I can do for you."

  Ted grabbed him by the shirt and leaned into him, pressing him into the bench and sending an agony through his body that made him believe he was burning alive. Ted screamed into his face and the spray of saliva from his mouth felt like steam from boiling water. "Where is she?"

  Sherman couldn't speak until Ted let go of him. Then he shouted, "The library! That's the last I saw her! The library!"

  He fell over on his side, crying and cringing with pain. He'd betrayed her once again, and now he could feel the heat of Ted leaning closer and closer. This was the end, and it was one he deserved. He should have killed Ted when he had the chance. None of this would have happened. Lillia and the children would still have a home, and they wouldn't have left to be separated from each other, the children killed, and for all he knew, Lillia killed, too.

  A squealing noise suddenly rose directly behind him to near deafening volume. He felt Ted back away and turned just in time to see the driver's side door of a red sports car fly off its hinges and go bouncing down the street like a flat rock across the river's surface.

  Out of the car stepped Hayden, the boy from the library.

  Immediately, he and Ted collided in midair, their feet just above Sherman's head. He dove out of the way as they came down, then scrambled to his feet and took off down the street. Half a block away, he stopped and turned around to see Hayden being slung into the side of the museum. Ted charged him but Hayden jumped high in the air and landed halfway up the big steel bat structure that lay against the side of the building.

  In two more leaps Hayden was on top of the building. Ted jumped up onto the bottom and thickest part of the bat.

  Sherman hid in an alley when he saw what was happening next.

  Hayden got up under the handle of the bat and tore it from its bolts in the ground. He raised the bat up, something that had to weigh several thousand pounds, Ted astride it as if riding some strange sports-oriented theme park attraction.

  Then Hayden flicked the bat upward, shooting Ted into the air. Hayden reared the bat back, both arms wrapped around it as far as they would go, and swung, connecting with Ted as he freefell and sending his body in an arch at least five blocks away.

  He dropped the bat. It hit the roof ledge, tearing out a chunk of bricks, and crashed down on the street, splintering in several places and partially collapsing, pieces of the building raining down after it.

  Sherman saw Hayden standing there at the broken section of the roof, looking off to the east, where Ted had crash landed.

  "Hey!" he called up to the roof. "The library!"

  "What?" Hayden called down, his voice faint.

  Sherman cupped his hands around his mouth. "If he ain't dead, he's going to the library! Where's Lillia?"

  But Hayden was already gone, leaping rooftops like a frog on lily pads, leaving his car idling in the street with no driver's side door.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Lillia searched the reception area and the office where they'd found the baby. She checked the tables with computers, the downstairs lounge area. Nothing. Then she climbed the steps and went to the couch where Kate and Drake had been sitting when she'd left. She saw the blood and collapsed on the floor sobbing.

  She didn't understand. The thing on her head, it made her feel smarter and faster. Better. Happier. Those big monsters swimming in the sky had to be the parents of the little ones. But it wasn't feeding off of her. If anything, she was feeding off of it. It was like a battery, pumping energy into her body and making her more capable.

  Why would its mother eat her brother and sister?

  Lillia crawled over to the couch and lay curled up on it, crying until her body ached. She didn't know what to do. She had no one. Sooner or later she would be up next to die.

  Downstairs, the door handle clicked and the door squealed open. Lillia climbed to her feet and slowly approached the rail. A dark figure stepped into the doorway.

  "Hello, Lillia."

  Lillia studied the figure closely. It wasn't Ted. Ted was short.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  "I'm Barry," the voice said. "I'm Hayden's father. I'd like to talk to you for just a moment. Can you come down?"

  "What do you want?"

  "Just a conversation," Barry said. "I can help you. But I need you to help me find my son. He's gone crazy. He's been going around saying terrible things about his mother. She's worried sick about him. Can you help me?"

  "Sure," Lillia said.

  She walked the rail until she came to the staircase. She descended slowly, keeping her eye on him. He was far enough inside now that his face caught the lamplight. He was big, meaty, and he looked mean. Just as Hayden had described him.

  She stopped at the landing halfway down and thought about Hayden, what he'd said right before she left. She'd thought him so cold for describing the kids' deaths so bluntly, but she'd forgotten he'd just witnessed the death of his own mother, without time to deal with his own loss, much less hers. He was only trying to communicate to her what she refused to believe.

  "Come on down," Barry said. "That's it. Good girl."

  Her shoes clopped on the marble steps, one after the other.

  "Did you kill Hayden's mom?" she asked.

  Barry tilted his head and grinned, feigning confusion. "His mother is fine. I can get her on the phone right now."

  "No you can't," Lillia said. "You're lying. You killed her."

  Barry began to walk quickly towards her, saying, "And you're next, you little bitch."

  Lillia ripped the marble knob off one of the newel posts at the bottom of the staircase and threw it at Barry, striking him in the chest and setting him flat on his back.

  She stepped down off the last step and stood over him. He clutched his chest, wheezing and coughing, gasping for air.

  "Why did you kill her? What did she do to you?"


  He couldn't speak.

  "Why does everyone have to be so mean?" She reached down, grabbed his lapels, and pulled him to his feet effortlessly. She stared into his black pupils, at his big toothy grin. "It's not necessary, you know," she said. "You can be nice sometimes."

  Barry tried to grab her, but she made a choking gesture with her hand and he froze in place, wrapping his hands around his neck, mouth open, tongue sticking out.

  Lillia walked towards the door, pushing Barry backwards though she stood six feet removed from him. His shoes scraped the floor when he wasn't kicking outward.

  When his back hit the door, she used his body to push it open, forcing him outside. She followed him quickly into the morning breeze, where she dangled him over the staircase, kicking his feet, choking.

  "You choked your wife, didn't you?" She looked across the street at the statue of a man seated. "I don't even know how I know that."

  Then she dropped him. Coming upon her fast was the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. A ghoulish man with blackened skin and bones showing all over his body, running full speed in her direction, his eyes squinted with determination. It was Ted. He shouldn't be alive. No one could burn like that and still be breathing, much less sprinting for her.

  He must have one on his head, too.

  Suddenly Ted was tumbling across the sidewalk fighting with someone. It wasn't until they stopped rolling that she could make out her attacker's subjugator as Hayden. He'd wound up on top, pounding Ted's head so hard with his fist the impact made popping sounds.

  Ted reached up and grabbed Hayden's arm, and suddenly Hayden screamed in pain. Ted jumped to his feet and flung Hayden through the stone wall of the library. Then he plowed through the door, shattering what remained of the glass and cutting himself open in several places. He leapt great distances, great heights.

  Lillia watched as chunks of the walls and roof blew out, as the entire structure eventually shifted, then as Hayden and Ted came bursting out of the roof and into the sky, leaving the library toppling over and disintegrating.

  Hayden and Ted flew so high in the air, Lillia lost sight of them. They might well have disappeared into the dark bowels of the object. She suddenly recalled how she'd always felt a twinge of fear and panic when letting go of a balloon, watching it rise higher and higher into the sky, becoming a pinpoint, then nothing.