by R. T. Lowe
“That’s better.” Number Two’s voice was tranquil, comforting. “What do you have in your hand?”
“Car keys.”
“Give them to me.”
She did.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked timidly.
“Yes.” He smiled, his lips curving up into sharp peaks at the corners like a crescent moon tilted on its side. “I’m going to eat you.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Tell me why you’re here?”
“It’s my birthday.” She felt numb, paralyzed. Why couldn’t she run? Why was she answering his questions? What was happening? “It’s my birthday wish.”
Number Two removed his hand from her face and laughed as a host of others approached from all sides. “Your birthday wish?”
“I wanted to scare my boyfriend. That’s why we’re here.” She wanted to run, but she was fossilized, lost in the swirling storm clouds staring back at her.
“Do you think he’s scared now?”
She nodded. The tears rolled down her cheeks.
He opened his mouth and cocked his head like he was going to kiss her.
Mia knew what was coming next and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Nana was right, she thought, horrified, staring into the mouth of the shark. Nana was right. Nana was—
Chapter 37
The Report
“How did it go last night?” the voice rasped through the tiny speaker in Bill’s phone.
Bill sat at the table in his kitchen, a creased and yellowed Forest Service map spread out in front of him. Some of the logging trails were highlighted in orange. He set aside the marker and looked down at the phone. “Well. It went well. It was… incredible. If that’s the right word. To witness it, to actually see—to feel—the Source in use is indescribable. The air was just filled with something. Energy, electricity—I don’t know. It was like the atmosphere was crackling with power, like…” He left it at that as there were no words to describe it.
“A veil had been lifted and the true nature of the universe had revealed itself to you for the first time. I…” His dad hesitated. “I’m envious. I wish I could have been there to see it for myself. What did the boy do exactly?”
“I had him move some objects,” Bill replied, surprised at his dad’s poetic foray. “He didn’t have any trouble with it. For a first try, I’d say it went exceptionally well. That is, until I asked him to manipulate a single book and he vaporized it.”
His dad chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll be working on fixing that tonight.”
Bill hesitated before he said, “Not tonight.”
“No? Why not? Why aren’t you pressing? We can’t send him into the forest until he knows what he’s doing. There isn’t much time.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Delaying his training doesn’t make it any less complicated.”
“How many times are we going to have this conversation?” Bill said wearily. “I need to take things slowly with Felix. He doesn’t have an off button just yet, and I’m afraid if he has too much power, and not enough control, things could become, well, problematic.”
“Problematic?” His dad paused. “What happened? I know that tone, son.”
Bill sighed silently and looked out at the back yard through French doors. For the first time in a long while, it wasn’t raining. Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen through the doors and a large window above the farmhouse sink. He liked the kitchen. And the house. He’d purchased it fully furnished just two weeks before the start of classes. It was nice. And close to campus.
“He fell asleep at a friend’s the night I showed him the journal,” Bill explained. “His friend awoke to find him hovering close to the ceiling and burning up the room. But no one was hurt. No one suspects anything, except for his friend. And she—according to Felix—can be trusted.” He waited for the eruption he knew was coming. The grandfather clock in the living room tick-tocked melodiously, ushering in the bomb about to detonate.
But to his surprise, his dad said simply, “Isn’t that precisely why you need to accelerate the boy’s training?”
Bill said nothing, thinking his dad might have a point.
“William?”
“Perhaps,” Bill muttered, unwilling to acknowledge that his dad could be right.
“Perhaps?” his dad growled incredulously.
“I know what I’m doing! Would it kill you to have a little faith in me? I’m so goddamn sick of arguing about this!”
“Watch your temper, son!” his dad roared. “Remember who you’re speaking to. You have an obligation to see this through before—”
“Are we seriously discussing this again? For nearly twenty years that’s all I’ve heard from you. A constant mantra about my obligation to humanity. Ever since I met that damn woman at Green River that’s been my fate. I accept that. I do. But I don’t need you reminding me that I’m the only person capable of molding an eighteen-year-old kid into a goddamn savior!”
“Enough with the self-pity! It doesn’t suit you. You’re a Stout. Act like it. We both know what’s at stake.”
“Don’t tell me what’s at stake!” Bill screamed at the phone. “I’ve dedicated my entire life to this. Look at where I’m at! What do I have? Do I have a wife? Do I have kids? Do I have friends? Do I have any life at all? Don’t you dare tell me what’s at stake!” Shaking with anger, he grabbed the phone and cocked his arm back into a throwing position. Then he stopped. Don’t let him get to you, he said to himself. Relax. It’s not worth it. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In. Out. He so badly wanted to hurl his phone (and his dad) through the glass doors. He breathed. In. Out. He opened his eyes and placed the phone next to an empty teacup.
“You’ll have to forgive me for reminding you on occasion that it’s only the fate of the world that’s at stake,” his dad said gruffly after a long silence had passed. “In any event, if you’re not planning to continue the boy’s training in the immediate future, what are your plans?”
Bill looked at the fridge, and then at the clock above the sink. 10:15. Too early for a beer. “Ashfield Forest. As soon as the sun sets. I may be there for a few days this time.”
“Hunting?”
“Searching. Lofton must be keeping his toys somewhere.”
“Okay. Be careful, William. Those toys are not something you want to encounter without the boy along for the ride. But I trust in the meantime you’re taking precautions.”
“I’ve only been unprepared once in my life and I’ll never let that happen again.”
“Well, I should hope not,” his dad replied, sounding confused. “Call me when you get back.”
“I will.” Bill hit the END button, picked up the marker, and returned to the map. Then he went to the fridge to get a beer. It was after noon somewhere.
Chapter 38
Demonstration
“You in there?” Felix rapped on Allison’s door, idly watching a group of girls laughing their way down the hall toward the cafeteria. “It’s me.”
The door flung open and Felix flinched back in surprise. “Get in here! What took you so long?” Allison snatched the sleeve of his shirt and yanked him into the room, kicking the door shut with a bang.
“What’s with the manhandling?” Felix said, smiling at her.
“I’ve been dying to talk to you all day. Caitlin just went to the caf. I told her I’d meet her in a few minutes. We have to be quick.”
Felix straightened his shirt. He’d only been to Allison and Caitlin’s first-floor room a couple of times since the ‘relocation under duress’ as Allison called it. They’d replaced everything lost in the fire so their new room looked just like the old one: same framed family photos; same wall art; same little area rug with the southwestern motif; same complete lack of typical college-dorm-room-messiness.
The faint grayness of artificial light leaked through the edges and between the slats of the closed blinds. It was
already dark out. The sun had set a few hours ago. The abbreviated daylight hours and interminably overcast rainy November skies made it seem like the sun was vacationing on the other side of the equator and only interested in making the occasional cameo up north. The kids who’d come from sunnier climates were just beginning to understand what they’d signed up for.
“So what happened?” Allison asked excitedly. “What’d you do? What was it like?” She was literally jumping up and down. Her long hair, pulled back in a ponytail, bounced all around her shoulders.
“I made some books fly across the room,” Felix said casually, like he was telling her she should bring an umbrella for later because it had started to rain again. “It was in this monster room. The old library. Inverness. It’s huge.”
“Really? They flew? How’d you do it?”
He thought back to Bill screaming at him, telling him that Emma dumped him because he was a loser. That he would never amount to anything. It still stung even though he knew that Bill had only been trying to get him to tap into the Source. “I just can.”
Allison’s expression informed him that his explanation was sadly inadequate. He thought for a minute, struggling to come up with an analogy. “It’s sort of like swimming. When you jump in you just kinda know you’re not gonna sink, right? You don’t know why you can swim, you just know how to move your body in the water. I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure if that helped or not.
“Alright, well just show me.” Her eyes were dancing with anticipation. “Please. Please. Pleeeeease.”
“I thought Caitlin was waiting for you,” Felix teased. “Lucas is probably there by now. We should get going or we’ll miss their first tiff of the night.” He looked down at his watch, toying with her.
“Come on,” she pleaded, giving him a nudge to the shoulder.
She was so excited. So happy. There were no worry lines on her forehead. He loved seeing her like this. All of her prickliness and intensity, all of her rough edges, had smoothed over. She was softer, more girlish, more… something. How could he say no?
“Okay.” He searched the room for a suitable object, something smallish no one would miss too much if he accidentally killed it. He trained his eyes on a chair. Right size—and it belonged to the school. It wouldn’t be mourned after if something tragic happened to it. And something tragic could very well happen to it; he didn’t have a ton of confidence in his Source-wielding abilities. He raised his right hand toward it. Almost immediately, the tingly pins and needles flooded his body and a lead weight settled in his gut.
The chair bounced around and then rumbled slowly and unsteadily away from the desk. Felix wanted to make the chair slide elegantly across the floor to the center of the room where Allison could take a seat, and he could do something cool at the end, like say, “Voila,” or take a bow, or something grandiose like that. He glanced at Allison. She was beaming, holding her hands together like she was in prayer.
The chair snagged itself on the rug.
He tried to make it go up, to go over the edge, but it wasn’t easy. He concentrated. The front legs jerked up off the floor, fell back down, then popped back up, making the chair look like a rodeo bronco trying to buck its rider. He focused harder on lifting it off the floor and it popped up a few feet, dropped back to the floor with a thud, jumped up again, and then with a loud crack, all four legs splintered and snapped off from the bottom of the seat. The shattered legs, along with the rest of the chair, fell to the floor. So much for the grandiose finale, he thought, disappointed.
“Oops.” Felix went over to have a look at it; it was mangled. “It’s hard to control. I was trying that with a book and—”
Allison embraced him fiercely, throwing her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shoulder. She was trembling, saying something, but he couldn’t catch the words.
“Allie?” He took a step back, surprised, his arms at his sides.
She hugged him tightly, like she was afraid to let go.
“You okay?” He held her, conscious of her body, the firmness of her legs. The way she smelled. Something clean and sweet but not perfumey. He didn’t know if she was laughing or crying.
“Sorry.” She tilted her head back to look up at him. Her eyes were dry. “It’s just… it’s just so, I don’t know… it’s just so awesome! I can’t believe this. I can’t explain it. But I just love that you can do that.” She looked down at the chair. “I love what it means. Everything’s so different now. So exciting. I feel like there’s a point to all this. Nothing’s meaningless anymore.” She smiled. “And you are officially the most interesting guy in the world!”
“Nah.” He smiled back shyly. “It’s still that old bearded guy with the cool accent. Whose chair is that, anyway?”
“Caitlin’s.”
“Really? Shit. I keep trashing her stuff.”
They started laughing.
“What the—?” a voice said.
Harper stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other covering her mouth. She looked absolutely stunned, frozen in place, as she watched Felix and Allison locked in an embrace and laughing like they were enjoying their first dance as husband and wife.
Felix clumsily let go of Allison and stepped back numbly, digging his hands into his pockets, staring stupidly at his feet. He felt like his mom had just walked in on him making out with Emma.
“Have you seen Caitlin?” Harper asked, her voice cold and stiff.
“She’s in the caf,” Allison said lightly. Unlike Felix, she wasn’t acting like the cops had caught her drinking beer out of a paper bag in the park.
Harper noticed the chair and did a double take.
“Felix was just helping me with it,” Allison said preemptively.
“Looks like he was helping you with something.” Harper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What happened?”
“I was trying to get something out of my closet,” Allison said pleasantly, smiling. “Piece of advice: don’t stand on the chairs. They’re pretty flimsy.”
“How’s he going to fix that?” Harper asked dubiously, her gaze trained on Allison. Felix felt like he was no longer in the room.
“He’s not,” Allison replied. “We decided that it’s unfixable.”
“Are you eating?” Felix asked Harper, hoping he sounded less guilty than he felt.
“Yeah.” Harper didn’t look at him—she just turned and stalked out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.
Great, Felix thought miserably. Now she’s even more pissed at me. He shook his head in disgust and headed for the hall. Allison followed, stealing a glance at the chair on the way out, smiling. The last thing she seemed concerned about was whether Harper was mad at him.
Chapter 39
Heaven’s on Fire
The world was hazy, cloaked in shadows. Felix was lying on his back, looking up. He was on a bed and in a room—that much he could tell. For no good reason, he had the curious sensation that he’d been here before. He tried to get a better look, but he couldn’t turn his head. He tried to move his arms, then his legs. They wouldn’t budge; it was like he was glued to the mattress.
The shadows were getting darker. The room grew warmer. Sweat slid down his face as the temperature rose rapidly. The area around him began to glow a deep reddish color. The bed started to move, vibrating and rattling in short staccato bursts. Then it heaved violently like a boat caught out at sea in a raging storm. The red cloud spread outward, expanding, stretching out to the edges of his peripheral vision. And then it all stopped. The bed was still. The temperature dropped. The room was peaceful and silent.
What just happened? Felix wondered. Where the hell am I? Before he could even begin to unpeel the first of the infinite layers of his confusion, a roaring tornado consumed the room. The winds were ferocious. Objects were whirling through the maroon-tinted mist, crashing into the walls and exploding into flames; burning fragments fell onto the bed and all around the room. He struggled against his invisible c
hains. But it was no use. He was stuck to the bed like an insect snared on a strip of flypaper.
The blanket caught fire and the flames danced across the foot of the bed. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t find his voice. His heart was racing. Sweat dripped from his body, soaking the sheets. The carpet ignited. The fire spread across the floor, climbing up the walls and covering the ceiling as if the heavens were aflame. Thick smoke billowed all around him, stinging his eyes. The fire ate through the blanket and crept steadily up to his legs, and then his stomach, and then his chest, inching closer to his face. He watched in horror. He tried to scream but all that came out was a shrill, hollow whistling sound. The heat was unbearable. The air scorched his lungs. The hot flames lapped at his face like a thirsty demon. He felt his cheeks and forehead blistering. Something warm and gelatinous oozed from the bursting pustules. His hair caught fire, crackling. His skin melted away, devoured by the scorching heat, and now the flesh beneath it was charring like a side of beef on a grill. The scent of meat filled the room. Even through the agonizing pain, Felix’s tortured mind understood that it was the smell of his own cooking flesh.
He screamed. He screamed again. And again. And again.
“Felix! Felix! Wake up! Holy shit! Wake up!”
His eyes snapped open. Lucas was standing over him—screaming. It took Felix a moment to realize that Lucas wasn’t screaming. The voice he was hearing was his own. I’m in the dorm, Felix thought, intensely relieved that he wasn’t burning to death. It was a dream. Just a dream. And then he panicked, every nerve in his body firing at once. He felt a thin sheen of sweat coating his body as he swung his legs off the mattress and staggered out of bed, looking frantically around the room.
“You okay?” Felix shouted at Lucas, fearing he might have gone nuclear again in his sleep. “Everything all right?” He threw himself on the floor and checked under his bed. Then he jumped up and wrenched open the closet doors.