by John Corwin
"Okay. Bye."
The second she dropped down the hole, she phased over into the Blight. She reached the ground floor, dropped to her knees, and dry heaved. Her vision darkened with the force of the heaves. Nothing came out but a trickle of reddish saliva.
"Martin, you bastard."
It took a few minutes to collect herself. Then she was ready. Time to set another murder into motion.
Chapter 7
Lucas was filling a garbage bag when he heard the buzz. His cell phone. Vibrating. Again. He ignored it and finished scraping the remains of his vegetarian meal into the bag. Usually he left the bag by the door and a kid from a neighboring apartment picked it up for a buck. Lucas stepped outside and reveled in the air, in the noise from the street nearby, and the people out and about. The breath-stealing anxiety that had plagued him since the murder of his family didn't manifest as he'd feared it would.
The dumpster was across the parking lot. He took a deep breath and walked over. The thirty-gallon garbage bag was packed tight and heavy with the gnawed remains of vegetables. He heaved it inside the dumpster and turned for his apartment. It felt so good to be out that he considered taking a walk even in the sweltering afternoon heat. A slight pang pierced his guts. Then again, maybe not. Part of him wasn't ready yet.
He opened the door to his apartment and felt the air pressure drop. The hairs on his neck stiffened. Someone was in the apartment. He rushed inside and grabbed his bat from the corner of the den. Scouted every room. Nothing. Nobody. Lucas tapped the bat against his palm. Then again, he'd gone psycho, right? Crazy people felt all sorts of strange sensations. Maybe that was why his fear had evaporated. It definitely had to be why his last few meals had been nothing but vegetables.
Something in the den was different. He didn't spot it right away, but it gnawed at the edge of his perception like a rat in the wall. His eyes settled on the cell phone. It was open. Lucas picked it up and saw a picture of a woman. He scrolled down to a picture of a high-rise office building.
"No. Not again."
He dropped the cell phone on the table and backed away. It was happening again. His subconscious was provoking another murder. How in the world had he managed to get out and take the pictures? Did he have multiple personalities? The cell phone seemed to be the key. He snatched it off the table, cocked his arm back, and dashed it against the floor. Plastic scattered across the hardwoods. Lucas scraped up the bits and dropped them in the toilet then flushed it twice.
"Take that you friggin' psycho."
This was insane. He was insane. How could he reason with whatever violent personality was taking control? Pressing hands to his face, he stalked back and forth in the den, deep in thought. He tried to speak to whatever inner demon lurked but heard no response.
After an hour of fruitless medical research on the internet, Lucas went to the bedroom and dropped onto the mattress, buried his face in a pillow. He choked back tears. It might be best for the world if he ended it all. Medication that did more harm than good seemed to be the common method for treating crazy people and he didn't want to turn into a mindless zombie.
His ears popped. Goose bumps raced up his back. It was happening again. This must be the sign that the other personality had taken control and had done something while his real personality was forced aside and into the subconscious. But he was still on the bed and his position hadn't changed a bit. He wondered why his alternate, malignant personality put him right back where he'd started. Maybe it was trying to hide its nefarious activities.
Lucas checked the clock to see how much time he'd lost, but couldn't remember the exact time he'd come to the room. From his calculations, it could be between ten and fifteen minutes. What had he done? He got up. The sensation hit him again. He immediately checked the clock. The time hadn't changed. Whatever had happened, his other personality hadn't taken control for more than a split second. He walked to the den. A silver device on the computer table caught his eye.
A new cell phone.
An image of the woman from the picture flashed before him, like a still portrait hanging in the air. An urge to move tugged at his joints. Lucas ran into the bathroom and locked the door. He hopped into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain closed.
The compulsion to get up and move tore at him. He covered his head with hands. He rocked back and forth. Clenched his teeth. The urge was overwhelming. Something in his mind screamed. Go. Find her. Find her now!
The outside world faded. He felt himself moving and opened his eyes. His arms were not his to control. His hand tore aside the shower curtain. His legs pushed him up. He bolted out the bathroom door. Darkness swept over his mind.
* * * * *
Lucas looked at unfamiliar surroundings. He was running down the road, his legs pumping like pistons. Road signs, parked cars, storefronts blurred past. Wind swept his hair back, causing his eyes to water. His right hand clenched something. The stiletto. No, an ender. It was called an ender. He didn't know how he knew that. The speed of his run exhilarated and terrified him. If he fell, the asphalt would skin him to the bone. He tried to slow his legs but they weren't under his control. He was a passenger in his own body.
Pressure stormed into his skull. The very fabric of the air split into a glowing white line. The world withered and decayed around him. Self-control returned to his limbs. But now he didn't want to stop. Something drew him on, enticed him, goaded him. He accelerated. Dust whipped into his eyes and mouth. Wherever he was going, he wanted to get there immediately.
A dark line slashed the air before him, ripping reality like a paper bag. He ran into it and the world was restored to normalcy as if an invisible maintenance crew had vacuumed the dust and applied a generous dose of spit and polish. His muscle control abandoned him again. His vision faded for another uncertain length of time and when he came to, he was back in the decayed world, his pulse pounding in his ears. Each time he saw the decay, he felt in control of himself, but unwilling to stop. Instead of an unseen force guiding him, it was primal, stoked like a coal fire in a steam engine. The world faded away again. When Lucas came to, a construction site loomed ahead. He was in the normal world again. New office buildings mingled with skeletal unfinished structures and crumbling buildings destined for demolition. His momentum decreased gradually until he stopped in front of a condemned building. The night air was warm, but he was barely sweating or breathing hard.
Bending down, he scooped three rocks off the side of the street with his left hand and dropped them into his jeans pocket. Something seemed to lift from him and control returned to his legs. He sensed something or someone just ahead. His eyes lost focus. A thin silver line slit the air and swallowed his vision. The road at his feet cracked and grayed. The condemned building slumped further and brown vegetation crept up its sides.
Straight ahead, he saw a glow. Like a moth to flame, it drew him in. His legs faltered at first then picked up the pace. The glow grew brighter. He saw a woman standing outside the building, digging in her purse for something. Lucas wondered if she was an angel. Ordinary people didn't glow like that. But angels didn't exist. She had to be something else. She was tall and graceful with long brown hair that framed her face. She wore a simple black dress that came to her knees. Even with the dress on, Lucas could see the athletic tone in her body.
He approached the woman. She looked up. Her eyes widened, shoulders stiffened. "You look familiar," she said as Lucas blurred over to her, slid the ender under her arm, and pressed the infinity symbol.
"Time to go on, sister," he said.
She gave a tiny squeak as the needle hit her heart. Lucas lowered her gently to the ground. A drop of water splashed on her cheek. No, not water—tears. His tears. Why had he called her sister? She didn't look like his sister. But she might be someone's sister. And he was taking her away from them.
But he didn't have a choice. He didn't know these people. Didn't know why he had to kill them. Either he was crazy or something else controlled him.
And the only way to find out seemed to be to play it until the end. Or kill himself.
He smoothed the long brown hair from his victim's face and pressed his palm to her cheek. Such a pretty glowing woman. If angels existed, she could be one. He dug the stones from his pocket, placed one on each eye, and the last on the mouth. Her glow dimmed. Tiny tendrils of light spiraled from the stones like glowing dust, reaching a height of a few feet before terminating at what seemed to be an invisible barrier in the air.
Sadness overcame Lucas. Something fluttered in the air and landed next to the woman. It was a black bird with an orange beak. Yellow streaks ran diagonally up each side of its head. It laughed. Lucas backed away. His vision withdrew from the silvery line in the air and the cracked sidewalk once again looked whole. The woman's glow vanished and the strains of light with it. The bird laughed again, sounding eerily human and insane.
Something shifted inside him and twisted at his guts. He sensed another presence nearby like static electricity in the air. Anger and curiosity fought for dominance and his control slipped away. Consciousness abandoned him and dark instinct took hold.
Chapter 8
Tollee had followed Lucas from his apartment. His speed was amazing for an executor. She couldn't keep up, which was unheard of. Seekers were always faster than executors, or so Martin had told her. She finally resorted to distance hopping through the Blight, staying ahead of him so she didn't have to run so much. His eyes and facial expression were unfocused and dull. Martin must have taken full control of him.
At one point, she'd jumped ahead of him and waited, but he'd never come. Then she saw him two hundred yards up the street from her already. Fast as he was, it didn't seem possible he could have covered the distance before her hop took her there. Then again, her accuracy with hops left something to be desired at times.
The execution of the mark went flawlessly. Lucas's body flowed with a murderous rhythm that left Tollee breathless. Disgusted. She wanted to hate him but she couldn't. Martin was using him and turning him into this monster. She had no choice but to help. Martin owned her. He was her arbiter and he could make her do anything if she disobeyed.
Lucas stood and stared at the woman. He was crying. Another pang of remorse assaulted Tollee. She viewed the stones through the Blight and marveled at the essence, like glowing smoke as it left the woman's body. Movement caught her eye. Lucas was walking away from the scene. He burst into a run and dashed away. Since she couldn't touch the body yet, Tollee followed him. It looked like he was heading home. He wasn't moving quite as fast as earlier. He cast his gaze around, searching for something. A few miles from his apartment, he veered into a parking lot, lowered his shoulder, and smashed through the locked doors of a grocery store. The wrecked doors rattled and hung loose from their ruined hinges.
What was he doing?
Tollee shifted into the Blight and entered the store. The odor of foul meat and rot filled her nostrils. Nothing in the Blight was edible nor would anyone want to eat it. She tried to breathe through her mouth. Thumps and crashes sounded from her right. Following the noises, she entered the produce section. Moldy heads of lettuce were piled high in one bin. Slimy cucumbers and withered radishes were neighbors to other blighted vegetables. The refrigeration systems rattled uselessly. The air they put out was humid and dank. Electronics rarely worked right in the Blight unless it was carried in from Normal. Her cell phone looked fine. Her clothing looked fine. The cell phone, of course, had no signal.
The remains of a turnip flew from the other side of a group of tables. Tollee walked around. Lucas was there, plowing through the vegetables with crunches and slurps, hardly chewing before gulping it down. Tollee gagged as he chomped into a moldy potato. What was wrong with this executor? Did he have a fetish for vegetables? Maybe he was vegan. She watched with curious unease for a minute. Like other Scions, his nimbus glowed within the Blight. His glow brightened as he ate.
Lucas stopped. His head jerked from side to side and his eyes searched wildly. Tollee held her breath. What did he sense? He stood up and stalked around the produce aisles, looking, listening. He stopped. The glow in his eyes went dark. He looked directly at Tollee. His eyes narrowed and he took a tentative step her way. He crouched, muscles coiled. Could he sense her somehow? Impossible. Executors couldn't see into the Blight.
Too late, she saw his next move. Lucas leapt straight for her. His body slammed her, sent her sprawling. She tumbled and slid across the floor until a produce stand stopped her. His body lay on the floor for a second before vanishing and reappearing a few feet from her. In the normal world he hadn't hit her, but in the Blight, his shadow or whatever it was had. Tollee screamed, pushed herself up, and ran for the exit, leaving the twisted executor to finish his meal.
Once she was a safe distance from the store she flicked back into Normal and took several deep breaths of clean air. "Oh my God," she said. She'd nearly peed in her pants when he'd launched himself at her. Executors could not see inside the Blight but Lucas had somehow seen her. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself and checked the time. The stones would still be active but it would be safer to wait near the woman's body so she could retrieve it.
She Blight hopped her way back to the dead woman. It was much harder to do in the dark since points of reference were harder to see. She had to keep the hops short and stay in well-lit areas. When she arrived, she stopped near a hedge several yards away to survey the situation. Essence still flowed from the stones in a strong, steady stream. Tollee switched to Normal and looked for a place to put the body. Even though it was late and the offices were deserted, there was a chance someone might stumble upon the crime scene.
She approached the body. Within a few feet, her energy level plummeted. She reached for the woman's legs but her knees gave out. She gasped and scooted away on her butt until her strength seeped back. Her heart raced, thudded against her ribcage. Martin hadn't been kidding about the stones. She could've easily been sucked dry and died right there. Unless she found a long rope and a way to lasso the body, the stones wouldn't let her get close.
If the stones were so powerful, how had Lucas been able to remain so close to the body earlier? Executors must have immunity. That would make sense, considering executors handled and activated stones. She wondered how they turned ordinary gravel into something that could suck your soul out.
A woman screamed. Tollee nearly wet herself again. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts she'd never heard the front door of the office building open and the after-hours maid come outside. Thankfully, Tollee was off to the side now, out of sight. She phased into the Blight and shuddered at the chum's horrified and horrific face. The maid pulled out a cell phone and dialed. Most likely emergency services.
"No, no, no!" Tollee rushed over, grabbed the cell phone and dashed it to pieces on the sidewalk. Realizing she'd just touched a chum, her gorge rose and she staggered backward. Within seconds, the cell phone was whole again, and the slimy creature ran back inside the office building to the elevator.
Tollee cursed. She should've shifted back to Normal, grabbed the cell phone, and shifted back to the Blight behind the woman. That would've solved the problem or at least delayed it. Now the police were likely on the way. She cast about for something, anything she could use to drag the body into a hiding place. Nothing.
She ran across the road to the construction site, shifted to Normal, and looked in the pickup trucks and toolboxes. Most were locked. Finally, she located a chain, but couldn't think how to attach it to the body to move it. She entertained the notion of taking a long bit of lumber and prodding the body out of sight with it, or using it to drag the body. A hook dangling from a tool chest caught her eye. It was a manual cable winch, the type with a handle that ratcheted back and forth. She grabbed it and ran back to the body.
About ten feet from the body, Tollee could feel the stones pulling at her essence. She looked at the woman's clothes for something the hook could latch onto but her dress offered no
thing.
"Shit, shit, shit." Tollee paced. This was ridiculous. All her speed and power amounted to nothing in this situation. She wasn't about to risk falling prey to the stones, but she had to do something before the police arrived. Then what? Drag the body behind her? It was looking more and more like she'd screwed this assignment up as well.
Next time—if there was one—she'd bring something with her. Why couldn't Martin simply have Lucas bring him the damned body in the first place? He seemed to take control of the guy easily enough. She called Martin on her phone and explained the situation.
"Child, when I'm forced to take complete control of our tool, it drains me. After the execution, it takes several hours for me to regain strength enough to even think about taking him over again."
Tollee choked back a snarl. "How am I supposed to do this? The police will be here any minute."
"Keep an eye on the body this time. Follow the morgue van and don't leave it for a moment. If our tool returns to create mischief, I may be able to dissuade him."
Tollee slapped her phone shut and stared at the body again. She threw the portable winch toward the construction site and watched it sail a hundred yards over the fence and crash into the window of a pickup. So damned close. A siren wailed in the distance. She cast about for a good vantage point and decided the red brick building across the road would work best.
Something rustled in the bushes. Tollee spun and looked. Saw nothing at first. Then a shadow emerged from behind a tree and approached. Tollee routed her vision through the Blight. The shadow glowed with enough intensity to hurt her eyes until they adjusted. She made out the shadow's face and backed away.
Lucas Fowler sprang out of the darkness, murder in his eyes.
Chapter 9
The shrill ring of the hotel phone tore Alexia from sleep and sent her into panic mode. It took a few seconds to recognize the source of the noise. She answered.