by Simon Holt
“Check it out.”
Aaron pointed to a rusted beige BMW idling a few yards past Reggie’s house. They’d both ridden in it before.
Reggie raced up to the car and leant down by the passenger side window.
“Where have you been?” she asked Machen, who sat in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve been waiting for you for hours. You had your cell phones turned off.”
“Oh yeah, we were at the library,” said Aaron, coming up behind Reggie.
“What’s going on?” Reggie asked.
“I’ll explain on the way. There isn’t much time left. Hurry!”
Reggie shot a glance over to the living room window, then up to Henry’s room. No one had seen her yet. She hopped in the passenger side and Aaron got in the back. He struggled out of his backpack’s straps as the car gained speed.
No one spoke for the first several minutes. Reggie thought they were going to get on the highway, but Machen passed the exit and instead turned onto another country road farther down.
“Where are we going?” Reggie asked.
“We have to be careful when we all meet,” Machen explained. “Vour spies are everywhere, and we can’t risk being ambushed. It would certainly make their year if they were able to take out the Tracer Council in one swoop.”
“So we’re going to meet the Council?” Aaron asked.
Machen nodded.
“This is important enough to warrant a gathering,” he said, and glanced over at Reggie. “You’re important enough.”
“You said time is running out,” said Reggie. “I’m honored to get into the Tracer clubhouse and everything, but can’t the introductions wait until later?”
“Don’t worry. We’re here to help you.” Machen made a hard left onto a dirt road.
Aaron kept glancing out the window and biting his lower lip. Wherever they were going, it didn’t seem to be near civilization. They had passed a roadside bait-and-tackle shop some time ago and hadn’t seen another building since. The car wove around the dirt roads through woods that were thinning out into farmland.
Eventually, Machen pulled off one of the narrow dirt roads and onto a gravel driveway that led up to an abandoned-looking farmstead. Reggie thought of Crazy Macie’s old place, and goosebumps prickled her skin. Machen pulled up in front of the barn and stopped the car. The structure badly needed a coat of paint; its red color had faded to a dusty pink and was cracked all over.
They all got out. The barn door had a large padlock on its latch. Aaron went up and tugged at it, but it held fast.
“That’s not for decoration,” Machen said. He pulled a key out of his wallet and unlocked the door. It slid open to darkness.
“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” Reggie said.
Machen checked his watch.
“Yeah, that’s a bit weird. The others were supposed to be here already. I hope nothing’s happened. After you, guys.”
Reggie entered first, then Aaron. It was pitch black inside.
“Hang on, there’s a light switch here somewhere,” said Machen, fumbling around the wall. “Ah, there we go.”
Dim bulbs lit the barn. Empty horse stalls stood to one side and grain bins rose on the other. The place smelled of musty hay and pine.
“So what are we—” Reggie turned and stopped.
She and Aaron stared at Machen, who pointed a black semiautomatic handgun at them. His eyes were sad, but his hand was steady.
“I don’t expect you guys to accept my apology,” he said, “but I am sorry about this.”
“You can’t be one of them!” Reggie gasped.
“A Vour? Of course I’m not.” He shook his head, but the gun stayed leveled at her. “It’s like I told you, Reggie. You have a power no one understands yet. If you fall into the wrong hands—the Vours’ hands—it could mean the end of us all.”
“What are you talking about?” said Reggie. “I’m a threat to them. If I fall into their hands, they’ll strangle me!”
“You’re wrong,” said Machen. “Your ability changes the game. We know it, and the Vours know it. They’ll want to see if it can help them in some way.”
“How?”
Machen cocked the pistol.
Reggie noticed a shadow move in the corner behind him.
“You don’t know?” said Aaron. “You’re going to kill us for something that might be true?”
“I have my orders.” Machen’s voice shook. “The risk is too great. We do what we have to do to win this war.”
“The greater good,” Reggie said.
Machen nodded. “You see it, don’t you? I don’t have a choice—”
A shape burst from the gloom beyond him, and Quinn Waters wrapped a length of baling wire around Machen’s throat and pulled him off his feet. The older man crashed to the ground as the gun went off.
Quinn stomped on Machen’s hand, forcing him to let go of the pistol, then kicked it away. Machen gagged as the wire tightened, cutting into his neck. He rammed his elbow into Quinn’s ribcage, and a bone cracked. The Vour stumbled back, losing his grip on the garrote. Machen, gasping and purple-faced, sprang to his feet. He pulled the wire from around his throat. Quinn gained his footing just in time to receive a savage kick to the groin. He doubled over, and Machen attacked again, but Quinn shot up and struck Machen in the face with the back of his skull. Blood flowed from Machen’s nose and mouth, and Quinn dove after him. The two grappled in the center of the barn.
“Holy shit!” Aaron yelled. “Quinn!”
Machen and Quinn continued to batter each other, both of them streaming with blood.
“Reggie!” shouted Aaron. “Get out of here!”
Reggie snatched the gun out of the dirt. She held it at her side and watched the men fight, feeling both horrified and fascinated.
They had traveled to the other side of the barn, close to the grain silo. Quinn had Machen in a strangle hold, but Machen quickly flipped the Vour over his shoulder and hurled him to the floor. Quinn lay there for a second, the breath knocked out of him. Machen gave him a few solid kicks to the gut.
“Time to finish what Eben couldn’t.” Machen stood with his foot on Quinn’s neck, poised to crush the life out of him.
But he didn’t. Reggie and Aaron watched as Machen’s foot trembled, and his face turned ghostly pale. He held his arms out in front of him like they were foreign bodies, and he gazed in horror at them.
“I know what you’re afraid of,” Quinn snarled. “And you have a weak heart.”
Machen’s face contorted in pain and he clutched his left arm. His legs gave out, and he fell heavily to the ground. His body went into convulsions. Quinn struggled to his feet and spat on Machen, his cold, green eyes wide and terrifying as he burrowed into the Tracer’s mind.
“Stop it!” Reggie ran toward him.
Quinn took no notice. The labyrinth of black veins across his body pulsed and surged.
“Shoot him, Reg!”
Quinn laughed, though his eyes never moved from Machen’s face. “Nah, your girl had the chance to kill me already and didn’t.”
Machen gasped and writhed on the floor. Reggie put her hand out and touched Quinn’s arm.
“Please, stop.”
Finally Quinn broke eye contact with his prey.
“Well, since you said please.”
Reggie knelt down next to Machen and felt his pulse; it was weak, but he was breathing.
“He should be all right.”
Quinn wiped his bloody nose on his forearm, and then rubbed his cracked rib.
“You want to save him? He was going to kill you.”
“He doesn’t deserve to die,” Reggie said.
“He didn’t feel the same way about you. You’re both welcome, by the way. Cole, for Christ’s sake, will you stop staring at me like I’m beefcake of the month?”
Aaron had been standing stock-still, gaping at the thing he thought he’d let die months earlier. The vision before him didn’t compute
in his logical mind.
“Come on, let’s get out to the car—I’ll explain on the way.” Reggie grabbed Aaron’s arm and pulled him along with her out of the barn.
“Reg, what’s going on? We could at least shoot him in the thigh or something, incapacitate him until we get him to a cold enough place to get into his fearscape.”
“Aaron, the situation’s a little different than that.”
“Different, how? You kill him or you save him, right?”
“Not this time.”
Quinn stepped past the both of them and opened the driver’s side door. He slid inside and reached for the keys dangling from the BMW’s ignition.
“Time to go, kids. We’ve got a deadline.”
Reggie grabbed the handle of the passenger door.
“Aaron, we’ve got to get going.”
“With him? Have you fucking lost your mind?”
He crossed to Quinn’s door and yanked it open.
“Get out of the car.”
“Um, let me think. No.”
“Reggie, give me the gun.” Aaron stared icily at Quinn.
Reggie stood on the other side of the car and looked from one to the other of them.
“Aaron, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Reggie, you can’t be…” He backed away from the car, his throat tightening.
“Aaron, he has information that will help us stop all this. Now get in the car. We have to get out of here.” She climbed in the front seat, but Aaron didn’t move.
“I am such an idiot. It was Quinn all along… the brain theories… and Thornwood… You’ve been talking to him this whole time, haven’t you?” Aaron’s mouth felt dry. “How could you trust him? How could you not tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d act this way about it.” The words would sting, but there was no time to be gentle. “I needed to make a tough decision, and you were in such a state—”
“I was in a state?” Aaron was incredulous. He turned with fury. “Or was it that you were just too ashamed to tell me the truth?”
“Aaron.” Reggie lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, but we need to get moving.”
“It’s him or me.”
“We need him,” she said. “I know you probably don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” Aaron said bitterly. “Maybe you can answer that question now. How keeping this from me was really protecting me.”
“Jesus, Cole, do you need a Kleenex or a hug or what? Quit your whining and get in the car,” said Quinn. “Or else hitch your way back. A cattle truck might pass by in a day or two.”
Aaron looked furious, but he got in the backseat and Quinn started the engine. Soon they were winding their way back over the country roads toward Cutter’s Wedge.
“You were wrong about one thing, Cole,” Quinn said. “I didn’t suspect Thornwood until Reg clued me in on it.” He turned to her. “I got your note.”
“And?”
“Oh yeah, there’s something there. But it’s not in a tree house. There’s a whole network of tunnels and caves down there, definitely some freaky activity underway. We’re going to have to hurry to get there in time.”
“Then I hope you know your way back,” Reggie said, gazing out at the winding road. “How did you get out here, anyway?”
“I’ve been tailing that guy for a while,” Quinn replied. “I knew he was a Tracer, and those dudes are always bad news. Bunch of homicidal maniacs.”
“That’s funny, coming from you,” Aaron muttered.
“Anyway, he’d been staking out your house all day,” Quinn went on, ignoring Aaron. “I got suspicious, so when he ran for coffee I jimmied the trunk and hid inside.”
“What happened in the barn?” Reggie asked. “Machen was about to kill you.”
“Psychic attack. He let down his guard and I hit him with this nightmare he’s been having since he was a little kid. Tree vines spring out of the ground and wrap around his whole body, and blah, blah, blah.”
Quinn turned into Reggie and Aaron’s neighborhood.
“No, not my house,” said Reggie. “I can’t risk—”
“We’re not going to your house. We’re going to his.” Quinn jerked his head back toward Aaron.
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not exactly the super-soldier type, if you know what I mean. You better stay on the sidelines for this one.”
“There’s no way I’m letting Reggie go off alone with you.”
“But Reggie’s been alone with me plenty of times the last couple weeks, haven’t you, Reg?”
Reggie just stared out the window. Aaron’s fists clenched.
“You just don’t get it, do you, Cole?” Quinn continued. “You’re a liability. You’ll put Reggie at risk if you come.” He glanced up at Aaron in the rearview mirror, his green eyes radioactively bright. “You don’t have the stones for this sort of work. Stick to the Internet and your library books. That’s more your speed.”
“It is not.” Aaron’s face was red with anger. “I can handle more than you think. Remember the lake, Quinn? I can deal with you.”
Quinn parked and hopped out of the car.
“Sure you can.” He opened Aaron’s door and yanked him out by the shoulder.
Suddenly, Aaron was floating in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight. He flailed his arms and kicked his legs trying to stay afloat, but he couldn’t keep his head above the surface. Salty brine seeped into his mouth with every gasping breath. Shark fins, like giant black blades, cut circles through the water.
He told himself to push back, to resist, but the water still surrounded him. He tried to imagine dry land under his feet, to feel the solidity he knew was beneath him in reality, but found only the frigid depths. A great white shark with a Vour’s black boiling eyes exploded from the waves in front of him. The monster’s cave of teeth crashed down on him, and he screamed as the world turned red…
“See?”
Aaron lay sprawled on his lawn, clutching his chest and gasping. Quinn hovered over him and shook his head. Reggie pushed him aside and knelt down by her friend. He noticed Machen’s gun tucked in her waistband.
“You’ve done everything you can do, Aaron. I know you feel betrayed. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I didn’t want you to have to deal with this—with him.”
“Bullshit,” Aaron gasped. “You sound like Eben.”
He was right. She’d become what she loathed. But it was too late for regrets.
“If I don’t come back, you and Eben need to finish this.”
“You won’t come back. You’re a fool for trusting him, Reggie. Don’t go alone. Take me with you.” Aaron tried to get up, but he was still too weak.
“You can’t even stand, Aaron. What would happen if you came with me? You can’t help me with this part. I’m sorry.”
Reggie walked back to the passenger side and got in. Quinn glanced at him from the driver’s seat and winked. Then he gunned the engine and the sedan sped off, leaving Aaron behind.
After he’d regained some of his strength, Aaron pedaled his bike furiously, the breeze cool against his sweat-soaked face. His lungs still burned from Quinn psychically drowning him, and his tailbone ached from when the Vour knocked him down. In the last hours of the day, a purple and gold sunset bruised the sky. His backpack, stuffed with the weapons he’d stolen, was slung over his shoulders, and he tried to keep from jostling it too much.
He could think of only one place to go, one person who could help him.
Aaron knew visiting hours would be over at the hospital, so he rode the elevator up and down until a group of doctors got off on the third floor. He followed them out, hiding behind them until he’d passed the nurses’ station, then he sprinted down the corridor to Eben’s room.
The light in the room was dim, and the old man was asleep. Aaron stood over him, marveling at how feeble he looked, with all the tubes poking in and out of him. His lips and nostril
s were tinged black, giving the impression that he’d accidentally wiped pen ink across his face. Aaron hesitated—could this shell of a warrior really do anything to help him now?
Eben’s eyes fluttered open. He did not look surprised to see Aaron.
“Come to see what living death looks like?” he asked.
“Eben, I…”
“Oh come, boy, spit it out,” Eben said gruffly.
“It’s bad. Reggie’s just done about the stupidest thing in her whole goddamned life. And I couldn’t stop her.”
He told Eben what happened, and, by the time Aaron finished, the old man had already pulled the oxygen tube out of his nose and the IV out of his arm. He tried to stand but his balance was off, and Aaron had to catch him.
“Whoa, whoa, Eben. You can’t go anywhere like this.”
“Like hell I can’t. Where did they go?”
“The forest preserve behind Thornwood Hospital. Something’s back there, but I’m not sure what—”
“That’s good enough. Get my clothes, would you? Showing up in one of these backless numbers won’t inspire much fear in our enemies.”
19
Black-barked trees towered over them, their thick canopy of leaves blocking out all but the slightest trace of the moon. They were driving down a path through the woods a few miles beyond Thornwood, and every once in a while Reggie could see a glimmer of the hospital’s lights through the trees. Finally the brush grew too great, and Quinn parked the car.
“We’ll have to walk from here,” he said.
Reggie nodded and got out of the car. She kept the gun trained on Quinn with one hand and held the heavy black flashlight with the other. Quinn held up his hands.
“Oh come on, Halloway. You still don’t trust me after all this?”
“Call me cautious,” she replied, hoping Quinn didn’t hear the quake in her voice.
“Just don’t trip and shoot me by accident.”
Quinn led the way through the tangled brush, cursing at the brambles as Reggie followed. An eerie hoot echoed through the darkness. Reggie knew an owl signified wisdom to the ancient Greeks, but medieval Europeans considered it a bad omen. She wondered which one it meant tonight.