[Midnighters 01] - The Secret Hour

by Scott Westerfeld - (ebook by Undead)

  And before he had appeared, she’d been afraid just sitting here in her room. Now she felt secure. She was probably safer with an experienced midnighter—or whatever he called himself—than on her own.

  Jessica telescoped Jurisprudence down to its shortest length, put it into her pocket, then pulled on her sneakers.

  “Okay, unscare me.”

  She put one foot up on the windowsill and reached for Jonathan’s hand.

  As his palm pressed against hers, Jessica’s breath caught short. She felt suddenly light-headed… light-bodied, as if her whole bedroom had turned into an elevator and headed for the basement.

  “What—,” she started.

  Jonathan didn’t answer, just pulled Jessica gently out the window. She floated up and out easily, as if she were full of helium. Her feet landed softly, bouncing a little before settling softly onto the ground.

  “What’s going on?” she finished.

  “Midnight gravity,” Jonathan said.

  “Uh, this is new,” she said. “How come I never—”

  Jonathan let go of her hand, and weight returned. Her sneakers pushed into the soft dirt.

  Jessica reached for Jonathan’s hand again. When she took it, the buoyant feeling returned.

  “You’re making this happen?” she said.

  Jonathan nodded. “Rex does lore. Dess does numbers. Melissa does… her stuff.” He faced the house across the street. “And I do this.”

  He jumped. Jessica was pulled after him, like a kid’s balloon tied to a bike. But she didn’t feel as if she were being dragged. It hardly seemed as if they were moving at all. The world dropped softly away, the ground rolling beneath them. The road passed by below, frozen leaves brushing against them, the neighbor’s house sliding closer like some big, stately ship pulling into dock.

  “You… fly?” Jessica managed.

  They settled on the neighbor’s roof, still featherlight. She could see the whole motionless street now, two parallel rows of roofs stretching away in either direction. But strangely there was no sense of height, no fear of falling. It was as if her body didn’t believe in gravity anymore.

  Jessica found a leaf clutched in her free hand. She must have grabbed it out of the air as they’d passed through the frozen swirl of leaves.

  “It’s okay,” Jonathan said. “I’ve got you.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But… who’s got you?” The soles of Jonathan’s shoes barely brushed the slate roof, as if he were a hot-air balloon anxious to get off the ground.

  In response he took the leaf from her hand. He held it with two fingers and released it. It didn’t fall, just stayed where Jonathan had placed it in the air.

  Jessica reached out her hand. When her fingertips brushed the leaf, it fell softly to the roof, then skittered down the steep angle. Just as it had the raindrops, her touch released it. But Jonathan’s was different.

  “Gravity stops when time does,” Jonathan said. “Time has to pass for something to fall.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Remember the intro chapter to our physics book? Gravity is just a warp in space-time.”

  Jessica sighed. Another advanced class she was already behind in.

  “So,” Jonathan continued, “I guess I’m a little bit more out of time than the rest of you. Midnight gravity doesn’t have a real hold on me. I weigh something but not much.”

  Jessica tried to get her head around his words. She supposed that if raindrops could hover in the air, it made sense that a person could too. Why should any of the midnighters fall? she wondered.

  “So you can fly.”

  “Not Superman fly,” Jonathan said. “But I can jump a long way and fall any dista—hey!”

  Without thinking, Jessica had let go of his hand. Normal weight hit her all at once, as if someone had suddenly dropped a necklace of bricks around her head. The house reared up under her, and she collapsed onto its instantly treacherous slope. She was no longer made of feathers but solid bone and flesh. A sudden terror of heights struck her like a punch in the stomach.

  Her hands reached out instinctively as she slid downward, fingernails grasping at the slate roof tiles. She half rolled and half skidded toward the edge of the roof.

  “Jonathan!”

  The edge loomed up toward her. One foot went off into space. The toe of her other sneaker caught in the rain gutter, and she halted for a second. But she had only a tenuous grasp on the roof tiles. Her fingers, her foot, everything was slipping….

  Then gravity let go again.

  Jessica felt Jonathan’s hands gently grasping both shoulders. The two of them floated down to the ground together.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  Her heart still pounded, but she wasn’t scared anymore. The featherlight feeling had returned so quickly, like a wave of relief when some horrible test was over.

  Their feet settled onto the ground.

  “Are you okay?” Jonathan said. “I should have warned you.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have realized. I was just thinking that it’s too bad we can’t all fly.”

  “No, just me. Although when you turned up, I was kind of hoping.”

  She looked at Jonathan. His eyes were still wide with alarm. And Jessica could also see his disappointment that she had fallen, that she wasn’t like him.

  “Yeah, I was kind of hoping too, I guess.” She took his hand firmly. “But take me up again. Please?”

  “You’re not scared?”

  “Kind of,” she admitted. “So unscare me.”

  They flew.

  It was true, Jonathan wasn’t Superman. Flying was hard work. Jessica found that they went much higher if she jumped with him, pushing off as hard as she could. The timing was tricky—if one of them pushed too soon and too hard, they would fly apart and be jerked to a halt at arm’s length, then spin helplessly around each other, laughing until the ground caught them again. But they got better with every jump, coordinating their leaps to soar higher and higher.

  She gripped Jonathan’s hand hard, nervous and excited, terrified of darklings and thrilled to be in the sky.

  Flying was beautiful. The pale blue streets glinted like rivers beneath them as they crashed through high, wind-borne columns of autumn leaves. There were birds up here, too, their wings outstretched in arrested flight and angled to catch the frozen winds. The dark moon glowered over them, almost risen all the way, but it didn’t seem to crowd the sky as oppressively as it had last night. From up here Jessica could see the band of stars that stretched around the horizon, bright pinpoints whose white light hadn’t been leached blue by the moon.

  The layout of Bixby was still unfamiliar to her, but now that Jessica could see the town from above, laid out like a map, it started to make sense. From the highest jumps the houses and trees looked small and perfect, a city of doll-houses. Jonathan must see the world completely differently from everyone else, she realized.

  They drew closer to the edge of town, where the houses thinned and wilderness encroached on the city. It was easier going out here, not having to negotiate houses, stores, and tree-lined streets. Soon Jessica could see all the way out to where low, scrubby trees dotted the rough, low hills.

  The badlands.

  As they got closer to the desert, her eyes nervously scanned the ground for any movement, imagining the skulking shapes of darklings under every tree. But everything below seemed motionless, tiny and insignificant as they soared over it. She realized that they were moving much more quickly than the panther could even at full speed, taking leaps a hundred times as great as the giant cat’s.

  Jonathan really was faster than the bullies.

  He took her to one of the big water towers outside of town. They alighted on it, the city on one side, the black badlands on the other. It was flat on top, with a low guardrail around the edge.

  “Okay, hand-rest time,” he said.

  They let go of each other. Jessica
was prepared this time, bending her knees as normal weight settled back onto her.

  “Ow,” she said, rubbing her fingers. She realized that every muscle in her hand was sore. Jonathan stretched his own hand with a pained expression. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to be all clingy.”

  He laughed. “Better clingy than splatty.”

  “Yeah, totally.” She stepped carefully to the edge of the tower, keeping one hand on the rail. As she looked down, her stomach did a back flip. “Okay, fear of heights still in working order.”

  “Good,” Jonathan said. “I worry that one day I’ll forget that it’s not midnight and jump off a roof or something. Or I’ll forget what time it is and still be flying around when gravity comes back.”

  Jessica turned toward him, put one hand on his shoulder, and the lightness returned. “Please don’t.”

  She blushed and let go. Her voice had sounded so serious.

  He smiled. “I won’t, Jessica. Really.”

  “Call me Jess.”

  “Sure. Jess.” His smile grew broader.

  “Thanks for taking me flying.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Jessica turned away shyly.

  She heard a crunch. Jonathan was eating an apple.

  “Want one?”

  “Uh, that’s okay.”

  “I’ve got four.”

  She blinked. “Do you ever stop eating?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve got to eat my own body weight every day.”

  “Really?”

  “No. But flying makes me hungry.”

  Jessica smiled and looked out over the town, feeling secure for the first time since last night’s “dream” had gone all wrong.

  Her eyes followed a bird flying along the horizon, back-lit by the moon, which had just begun to set. She was so happy, still featherlight inside, that it took a moment for her stomach to sink.

  The bird was moving.

  “Jonathan, what’s wrong with this picture?”

  He followed her gaze. “Oh, that. It’s just a flying slither.”

  She nodded, swallowing. “I saw some last night.”

  “That’s what Dess calls them, anyway,” Jonathan said. “Although ‘flying slither’ kind of sounds like a contradiction to me. But the winged ones and the crawly ones are the same creature. They change their shape, did you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” She remembered the kitty-shaped slither that had led her so far from home before turning into a snake. The flying slither was circling them slowly, its leathery wings transparent against the cold moon. “It’s creeping me out.”

  “Don’t worry. Those things never bother anyone.” He reached into his shirt and pulled up a necklace of thick steel links. “And if that one decides to, I’ve got all thirty-nine links of Obstructively to protect us.”

  Jessica shivered. “A slither bit me last night. Or whatever you’d call it. Tongued me.”

  “Ouch. Were you messing with a nest or something?”

  She looked at Jonathan sourly. “No, I wasn’t doing anything stupid. A bunch of them were helping the darkling hunt me. It snuck up on me in the grass and gave me this slither hickey.” She showed him the mark.

  “Yuck. They are nasty little creatures. But it won’t bother us, I promise, Jess.”

  “I hope not.” She hugged herself. Somehow it felt colder up here, as if the suspended desert wind blowing off the badlands had left a trace of itself. Jessica wished she had brought a sweatshirt.

  Jonathan put a hand on her shoulder. The lightness returned, the feeling of safety and warmth. Her feet disconnected for a moment from the tower, as buoyant as a cork on water. She shivered again, but not with the cold this time.

  “Jessica?” Jonathan said.

  “Call me Jess, I said.”

  “Jess!” His voice sounded wrong. He was staring the other way, toward the badlands outside of town. She followed his gaze.

  A darkling was coming.

  It wasn’t at all like the one from the night before. It shifted as it flew, muscles rippling as it transformed from one shape to another—first a snake, then a tiger, then a bird of prey, scales and fur and feathers all blurring together on its crawling skin, the huge wings beating with the sound of a flag whipping in the wind.

  It could fly too, and quickly. It was headed straight toward them.

  But Jonathan had seen lots of darklings before, Jessica reminded herself. He had been out in midnight hundreds of times. He was faster than the bullies.

  She looked back at his face. Jonathan’s mouth had dropped open.

  Jessica knew instantly that he’d never seen a darkling like this one.

  14

  12:00 A.M.

  BEASTS OF PREY

  Along with a flood of terror, a few morsels of Jessica’s daylong cram session trickled into her mind.

  “Jonathan, this tower’s made of steel, isn’t it?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not clean. Nothing this far out of town is.”

  “Oh, right. So we…”

  “Jump.”

  They locked hands and stepped to the edge of the water tower. Jonathan placed one foot squarely on the guardrail and pulled lightly upward. They floated up to a precarious balance on the thin rail.

  “One, two…”

  Even though she was nearly weightless, Jessica’s sneakers were unsteady. She bent her knees as she and Jonathan slowly listed forward, seeing nothing below but the hard ground.

  “… three.”

  They pushed off, almost straight out from the tower. Jessica realized that Jonathan had meant it to work exactly this way. The scrubby earth zoomed by under them faster than ever, their momentum carrying them forward rather than up. They descended toward the ground quickly.

  “That parking lot,” Jonathan said, pointing with his free hand. “Keep jumping, low and fast.”

  The huge factory lot was perfect for landing. A few long trucks were crowded in the middle, but otherwise it was clear. As they arced down to it, Jess dared a glance over her shoulder. The darkling still pursued them.

  They touched down on the asphalt and took one bounding step that carried them over the trucks and almost to the other end of the parking lot.

  “This way,” Jonathan shouted as they flew, tugging her hand in the direction he intended. They jumped again, launching themselves toward an empty expanse of highway that led past the factory. Following Jonathan’s lead, Jessica kept their trajectory low. They didn’t want to waste effort soaring high into the sky. Only speed mattered.

  They descended toward the highway, heading for a spot that was clear of cars. They were still well ahead of the darkling.

  “Which way?” Jessica shouted.

  “Down the highway!”

  As they landed, Jonathan’s hand clenched, letting her know exactly when to push off again.

  They took two more bounds down the highway, the four-lane width making it an easy target. They were moving fast. Jess glanced over her shoulder again; the darkling actually seemed to be falling behind.

  But as the road led them farther into Bixby, it narrowed to two lanes, and more late-driving cars began to appear on it. Jonathan was hesitant with their jumps now as he frantically calculated how to come down in a clear spot.

  Their leaps grew timid. They were moving slower and slower.

  An errant jump carried them toward a house and onto its treacherously sloped roof. Jonathan slipped as they pushed off, and they went spinning. When they landed, the darkling was closer.

  They leapt again, trying to get back onto the road.

  “It’s too crowded here,” he cried. “We have to get farther out of town.”

  “Toward the badlands?”

  “Yes. The open desert’s perfect.”

  “Isn’t that where the bad guys come from?” she asked.

  “Yeah. But we’re too slow here.”

  Jessica checked the beast behind them. It had stopped changing shape, settling on a thin, sna
kelike form with a beaked head. The creature’s wingspan had grown, as if the thing’s bulk had been transferred from its body to its wings. It looked faster now, and it was getting closer.

  “Okay.”

  At the next landing they turned, angling back toward the edge of town. Suddenly Jessica recognized where they were.

  “My mom works near here. Next jump: that way!”

  “What? Your mom can’t help us, Jessica.”

  “Shut up and follow me.”

  Jessica felt Jonathan’s hand tighten, resisting her for a moment, but when the next leap came, he followed her lead. As they reached the top of their arc, they found themselves soaring over a high fence and onto the grounds of Aerospace Oklahoma. Mom had driven Jessica past here on the first day of school, almost making her late. The complex was huge, dotted with wide airplane hangars and low office buildings, mostly runways and vast empty spaces. They tested new wings, landing gear, and jet engines here, and Jessica’s mom had said they even had an old Boeing 747 that they would occasionally set aflame to practice fire fighting.

  It all required a lot of open space.

  They jumped three times long and fast, eating up the entire length of a runway with the speed of a jet aircraft. Then they soared over a huge hangar and found another long runway. The darkling fell farther behind.

  The beast’s cry reached their ears. Unlike the bellow of the panther, its scream was high and reedy, torturing Jessica’s ears like the shriek of a boiling teakettle.

  A chorus of cries came in answer, piercingly high chirps from somewhere in front of them.

  “The badlands are up ahead,” Jonathan said.

  Jessica nodded and said softly, “They’re waiting for us.”

  The setting moon filled the horizon now, and she could see a cloud of flying slithers against its lightless but blinding face. There were hundreds of them, wheeling in a chaotic mass, and two larger shapes, darklings on the wing.

  “This is too weird,” said Jonathan. “I’ve never seen—”

  “This way,” Jessica interrupted as they struck the ground. She pulled him to one side, angling away from the armada of creatures ahead. But her decision had come too late. Their hands jerked taut against each other, and she felt her fingers slipping. She reached out with her other hand for him, but their momentum carried them apart.