Never

by K. D. McEntire

  “I…I didn't know that.” Wendy looked to Piotr and he nodded. The idea of it made her ill.

  Frank poured a shot from the fresh bottle, downed it, and glared at the booze. “No matter what your shape, in the end you beg for the Light. Like a junkie. We'd do anything for a chance to finally die. Elise takes advantage of that. She'll use the Light like it's napalm. Just carpet-bomb whole areas until every soul comes out of hiding, no matter how it drains her. No matter how weak she is in the end. Because even if she's physically weak, if the Never is bowing down and singing her praises, well, then Elise still wins. Elise hurts. She heals. She breaks you down and then raises you up, over and over again until you're utterly hers.”

  He pounded the table with a fist. “You're in a coma but you're still alive. You've got no idea what the Light is like for us. The smell, the song…you're still kicking so you can't know how it grabs you by the gonads and yanks.”

  Was that why Chel's Light hadn't called to me, Wendy wondered. Because I'm still alive?

  “I'm…I'm sorry,” Wendy whispered. She hadn't done any of the things that had made Frank so twisted and jaded, but yet she felt responsible for her family and their transgressions. All this, everything Elise had been doing, had to change. “I'm not like her. You know that.”

  Frank touched his cheek and smiled bitterly. “No, Elise only has ghosts working for her. She isn't dating ’em.”

  Piotr growled quietly from the doorway. Grinning, Frank tipped the glass in Piotr's direction and sipped it. “Oh, pipe down, comrade,” Frank told Piotr. “No offense meant. Look,” Frank leaned forward and slung a companionable arm around Wendy's shoulders, holding up his glass in the other hand. He tilted it left, right, swirling the liquid and watching the play of droplets on the side of the glass. “As for Tracey, what she might have done to sprint past that line…let me lay it out for you, Lightbringer. The only truly old souls in the Never have regular contact with the Lost. And I'm not talking Riders.”

  “You mean Walkers.” Wendy bit her lip. The news wasn't as painful as she would have expected. So much about her mother was starting to add up, and Wendy wasn't sure she liked the final sum very much. “She dealt regularly with Walkers.”

  “First Tracey, then Mary,” Frank said, pulling away from Wendy and tapping his glass on the table. “Though Mary's decision to dabble on the rotten side had more to do with her sister than any real desire to make nice with nasties, if you catch my drift.”

  “You're saying my mother asked the Walkers about the Reapers, about where they came from, for Tracey. She saved up all of Tracey's inconvenient questions and kept asking them. Probably made deals to get them to talk to her, right?” Wendy crossed her arms over her chest protectively, hugging her elbows close, and grimaced. “I wish I didn't believe you.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Frank touched his index finger to his nose and grinned, tipping back his cup and swallowing in one smooth motion. “You don't have to,” he said. “The truth exists whether you believe in it or not.” Frank shook his head. “Mary didn't enjoy it; she put up with them for a purpose. Just like any good Reaper. Duty over all.”

  “Did the Walkers tell her anything?”

  “Must've. Elise's been prying around town for weeks now, trying to trace back the places Mary went to, the spirits Mary communicated with.” He paused. “Or, at least, she was. Right around the time the Lady Walker walked into the spirit web forest and took it over, Elise stopped nosing around.”

  “You think she found what she was looking for? Who she was looking for?”

  “It's possible. Probable, actually—a lot of Walkers'd tell Elise anything she wants for a chance to look lovely all over again, let her fix their faces right up. Can't fix the sin, but at least you can hide it.”

  Wendy wondered what the beautiful Walker who'd attacked her had given Elise and she was glad he was now dust all over again.

  “Thank you, Frank. You've given me…something to think about.” Chewing her lower lip, Wendy rose to go, but was stopped short by the sight outside the window. The Top of the Mark was high enough that she could see the rent in the sky, brooding sullenly over the ocean. “Frank?” Wendy hesitated. “Do you…do you know anything about that thing?”

  “What did you do, Jon?” Chel asked, toeing the quivering bones. “Are they still…alive?”

  “Not alive,” Elle said, squatting down and examining the pile. “But there's will in there, you can feel it. If you left ’em long enough I bet they'd eventually come back. It'd take awhile. It'd hurt. But he'd be back.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Chel demanded, punching her brother in the shoulder. “I know they're monsters and all, but put them out of their misery.”

  Jon swallowed heavily. “I…I don't know how. I don't know how I burned them in the first place.” He knelt down beside the closest pile and held a hand out over the shivering bones. There was a clattering beneath his palm but his hands didn't light up. Jon had lost his glow.

  “Can you do it?” Lily asked, crossing her arms over her chest. A multi-colored bruise swelled high on one cheek; one of the Walkers had landed a lucky blow and a ragged cut now gaped from temple to temple. As Jon watched, the seeping wound slowly closed, leaving a long, irritated red scab behind.

  “I don't know,” Chel said, pressing her hands to her chest and staring hard at the piles of bones. “It's…warm…but it's like…like when you're trying to grab something just outside your reach and your fingertips keep brushing it but you can't get a grip.” She scowled around the empty parking lot. “We can't do this by ourselves! How much longer is Wendy going to take?”

  “The Lightbringer will finish in due time,” Lily murmured, brushing her hair away from the nasty cut. “But the wind smells…wrong. Prepare yourselves.”

  And, as if her words had called to them, more Walkers appeared from the mist. Chel, scowling, raised her hands to her chest, but the blaze of Light did not appear.

  Jon's fingertips burned.

  Frank glanced over his shoulder at the gigantic pulsing mass pushing against the edges of the crack in the sky.

  “No one knows for sure, but we've got a good idea who's behind it.” Approaching the window, he jabbed a finger toward the encroaching mass of spirit webs. “The webs are collecting any bit of spiritual debris they can get their sticky strings on. Living or dead. It's impossible to get in there unless the Lady Walker wants you to. Most of the city is cut off.”

  “Yeah,” Wendy murmured. “We figured that one out on our own. We got here after a…thing…attacked us in the webs.”

  “Lucky you, traveling in a pack. Safety in numbers and all that.” Frank's hands spasmed. “I hear tell that Ada was dragged into the forest yesterday, by her hair. There hasn't been a peep from her since—I'm sure she's as good as gone. Those cocoons will suck the will out of a person in hours, even someone as stubborn as Ada is.”

  “We saw her consumed in the webs,” Wendy admitted, deciding to not relay the whole story. “I'm sorry. I couldn't save her. I tried.”

  “It's not your fault. You just…you've been dragged into something far bigger than you are.” Frank rested his forehead on the glass, glaring at the rent in the sky.

  “The Lady Walker opened the hole in the sky, didn't she?” Wendy asked. It was just a guess, but it felt right.

  “It's something, ain't it?” He shuddered. “Yeah, I think she did. The Council has people all over town who report back to us, ya dig? Earlier tonight, the crazy bitch and her Walkers made a trip out to the hospital. They dragged some poor soul bursting with energy…with Light…into the spirit web forest. Just like they did with Ada.” He shot a calculating look at Wendy. “The sky opened up after and, right along with it, there was one hell of an earthquake.”

  Suddenly all the Lady Walker's demands that Wendy walk away made perfect, disquieting sense. She'd been bragging that her desires were within her grasp…what did she want with a tear in reality? What lived beyond the hole?

  �
��You think she…used the soul somehow? To pry open the crack in the sky?” Wendy asked in a low, quivering tone. She couldn't help wondering if the soul the Lady Walker dragged into the spirit web forest been Emma's.

  “Must've. There was too much Light, but none of it was…contained…the way you all do. It was shapeless. It had to be one of yours…Reapers, I mean. Maybe a young one? Someone who didn't know what they were doing, or how to fight back.” Frank said, hand trembling as he picked up the bottle. His eyes were bloodshot now, his lips cracked and raw at the edges. Wendy wondered what was in that moonshine and thought that it was better that she didn't know. He took another sip.

  That disqualifies Emma, Wendy thought. There's no way she'd go down to the likes of the Lady Walker without a fight. And her Light is far from shapeless.

  “If Ada's definitely gone then the Council has no one smart enough to figure out what to do with that thing…” Frank let the sentence drift into uneasy silence. “I'm sorry, Lightbringer. We can't help you. We're helpless.”

  As one they stared out the window. The crack was bigger. It expanded and contracted as they watched, the edges shifting against the backdrop of grey sky. It looked like…Wendy berated herself for thinking such a ridiculous thing even for a second, but it looked like the crack in the sky was breathing.

  The ride home was spent in somber silence; the ghosts squeezed in the back, sitting on one another's laps while Jon and Chel shivered in the front, the heater going full blast to counteract the frigid chill pouring from all the dead in the backseat. Every now and then Wendy would catch one of them slanting glances at one another from beneath lowered lids.

  A large pile of Walker bones clattered in the trunk, reminding Wendy that Jon and Chel's abilities were still too uncontrolled to be counted on. Jon hadn't meant to strip them down to bones and faint will, but since he had, what remained of the Walkers might as well be useful. Wendy had plans for the piles of shivering Walker bones.

  “Home sweet home,” Wendy said as Jon pulled into their driveway. He sagged with relief and Wendy decided not to tease her brother over driving with only a learner's permit. Jon parked the car and turned off the engine. It ticked as it began cooling; for several seconds no one moved an inch.

  “Okay guys, you know the drill,” Wendy said, yawning and scrubbing the grit out of her eyes. “Keep it short and sweet. It's a risk spending the night but we've got nowhere else to go so we're crashing for the night but getting up at dawn. You're not up, you get left behind.”

  “Home sweet disaster zone,” Chel grumbled, her voice heavy and exhausted; she rubbed an arm across her eyes, wiping the grit away as she pushed open the passenger side door. Wendy noticed that Chel, curious, waited for the ghosts to begin exiting the vehicle and watched each of them slide through the doors before asking, “By the way, do you know anything about what went down in the kitchen?”

  “The kitchen?” Wendy stopped, standing in the trunk of the car, visible only from mid-torso up. “Yeeeeaaaah. I forgot about that. I'm so sorry, guys. In my defense, though, I was trying to escape with my skin and soul intact.”

  Yawning, Jon slammed the driver's door shut. “Wait a sec. You're the reason the fridge is toppled over? What'd the fridge ever do to you?”

  “Haha,” Wendy said.

  “Answer the man,” Chel ordered playfully. “Because, no offense, you can't lift a wet noodle on a good day. How'd you manage to flip it?”

  “Yeah,” Jon insisted. “Did you Hulk out? Is this a Reaper power thing?”

  “It wasn't me,” Wendy sighed. “It was…” she hesitated, glancing at Elle and Lily and Piotr, the trio standing off to the side and observing the exchange with her siblings with unconcealed interest.

  “It was a group of Walkers,” Wendy grumbled.

  “Walkers?” Elle gasped. Then she laughed, a peal of mirth like bright, brilliant bells that sent her pincurls shaking. “You joker, Wendy, you had me going! Walkers can't touch objects in the living lands!”

  “These Walkers could,” Wendy replied darkly, her expression stilling Elle's laughter. “They destroyed my answering machine, too.”

  Eddie grimaced. “The one with your mom's voice on it?”

  “Yep,” Wendy confirmed, dejected. She wished Eddie hadn't reminded her why she'd kept the ancient answering machine around in the first place. Now that was just one more reason to be depressed over the day.

  “This is a troubling thing,” Lily said. She was gazing around the front of the house impassively, arms crossed low over her belly, examining the shadows in the neighboring yards. The way she glided with each step reminded Wendy of a cat, or a ninja, the silent shifting of her weight an impressive display of sinewy leg strength and subtle grace. Lily moved like purposeful, patient death.

  One day, Wendy thought, turning to go inside, I need to get her to teach me how to do that. That is too badass to pass up.

  “Are we sure we want to risk the Reapers finding us here?” Eddie asked Wendy quietly as they approached the front door. “What if they come after us while we're chilling?”

  Wendy yawned. “Sleep in shifts. Something. We circled the block three times, Eddie, and Lily's doing another check right now, see? I'm sure it's fine.” Wendy chose to keep her other worry to herself: that if she fell asleep, Elise or Jane might be waiting for her in a dreamscape.

  Chel reached for the door handle, but the door swung open soundlessly on its own. The foyer was too dark to see more than a foot inside. The nightlight in the hallway was out, leaving the archway into the kitchen black.

  “Jon?” Chel asked is a soft, breathless voice, “Did you forget to close the door when we left for the hospital?”

  “Um, no. I know I locked it, too,” Jon replied, hovering just behind Chel. He rested one hand on her shoulder. “That can't be good.”

  Chel reached just inside the door and flicked the light switch on and off. Nothing. “It's dead,” she said, brows drawing tightly together. “Maybe a breaker blew?

  Nervously, Jon said, “I can check. One of those crank-jobber flashlights is in the…um…the trunk, right?” He reached out and flicked the switch up-down-up in a quick staccato rhythm, as if trying to turn it on again might do the trick.

  “Isn't this the part where you're supposed to walk away and call the cops?” Eddie asked from behind them, causing the twins to jump in startled unison. “I mean, I love a good horror movie as much as the next guy, but when your cast of characters is already pretty much ninety-percent dead, you don't really wanna go killing off the only living guys in the flick, right?”

  “No one's going to die!” Jon retorted in a high-pitched, thin voice. “It's just a power outage or something! Everyone's probably having troubles!”

  “But next door still has the Christmas lights on,” Wendy pointed out. The lights from their neighbors were dim, but she could see them even in the Never.

  “Shut up,” Chel snapped, hunching her shoulders up and turning her back away from the lights. Wendy knew that her sister was purposefully not looking next door… “We don't need your stupid logic.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Damn it, I just want to go to bed! What the hell?”

  “Eddie's right. I'm calling the cops,” Jon said, reaching for his phone.

  “On New Years?” Chel retorted. “With the mess the earthquake made of the highway? Great idea. It'll be dawn by time they get around to us! We might as well have slept in the car!”

  “Well, what do you want me to do, Michelle?” Jon growled, hands on his hips as he glared at his smaller sister. “I distinctly remember locking the front door, okay? You lock a door and watch a bunch of ghosts go sliding through it, well that tends to stick with a guy. Plus, I had to go searching for my keys. I remember.”

  “Guys?” Wendy said.

  “I don't know,” Chel snapped back, mimicking his frustrated stance by jamming her own hands on her hips. “You're supposed to be the smart one! Why don't you tell me what to do? I mean, more than you already do!�
�

  “Guys,” Wendy said again, a little louder this time.

  “Nice, Chel,” Jon sneered. “Real nice. I'm not ordering you around. You're the bossy bitchy one these days. You think I'm not tired? All I want is to go pick up the kitchen and take a shower! I don't want to call the cops either!”

  “GUYS!” Wendy yelled. Startled, Jon and Chel shut up.

  “You've got at least three people here who can't die because they're already dead, right?” Wendy pointed out. “If you two are going to be looking into the Never and dealing with the dead then you have to learn to—”

  Wendy faltered into silence. She had been about to say, “learn how to use them properly” but that sounded suspiciously like something Elise or Jane would say. “You can just ask one of them for their help,” Wendy finished lamely.

  “Wendy is correct, I will go,” Lily said, sliding past Elle and Piotr, pausing to squeeze Piotr on the shoulder as she passed. Wendy hid her scowl but could feel her lips turning downward. Lily, oblivious to Wendy's frown, knelt down and examined the mat on the stoop, brushing her fingers along the edges. “If you are to be Lightbringers then you must learn to better take in your surroundings. Can you not feel it? There is a tinge to the air—”

  “Well, Pocahontas, hurry your tiny butt, then,” Elle said, lifting a foot and gently prodding her friend on the hip with her toes. “Or let's find another sort-of-maybe safe spot to hunker down for the night.”

  “Oh for—screw this,” Wendy grumbled, pushing past Lily and her siblings, storming into the house as loudly as she could, stomping her feet and flinging her arms about as if she would scare any Walkers away by puffing up like a frightened cat.

  “Olly-olly-oxen-free!” Wendy yelled. “Come out, come out, wherever you are! YO! LADY WALKER! I know you're in HERE!” She didn't; Wendy was goading Lily for lecturing her siblings, but the words tripped naturally off her tongue.