The eyes, though, were what really stood out, and what really frightened Billy. They were huge, far too large for its head, and subtly faceted, making the creature look almost insectile, like the world’s biggest walking bug.
“What’s that?” Billy managed to stutter out.
The creature zeroed in on his voice, and started to stumble towards Billy.
“Is that what I think it is?” said Tempus.
“Zombie!” shouted Vester. He grabbed Billy’s hand. “RUN!”
Similar shouts went up through the whole of Powers Stadium. Billy glimpsed several of the creatures—zombies, Vester had called them—advancing on cowering Powers who were so panicked they couldn’t even move. The creatures reached out grasping fingers, and the instant they touched the quivering men and women, the people fell over instantly. Whether they were unconscious, magically immobilized, or something even worse, Billy couldn’t tell. But he knew he didn’t want whatever it was to happen to him.
He ran with Vester, Tempus huffing behind them to escape the zombie that now pursued them. Billy glanced back and saw that the creature seemed solely interested in him and his two friends, oblivious to everyone else in its path. But whenever it bumped into an unProjected Power—someone who was really there, as opposed to spectating from afar—that person slumped over instantly.
“Do you have a Key?” yelled Tempus.
“Yes, but we can’t use it,” hollered Vester in response.
“What?” screamed Tempus incredulously.
“We have to get to the Recovery Room!” answered Vester.
“Are you insane?” puffed Tempus. The old man’s knobby knees were a blur of motion as they ran.
Vester jerked Billy’s hand, yanking him up a stairway that Billy saw would lead to a mezzanine that would take them near the Recovery Room. Billy instantly understood what the fireman was doing, but he didn’t like it. Vester needed to get to Fulgora. The fireman was risking his—and Billy’s and Tempus’s—safety to make sure the love of his life was all right.
Billy saw Tempus shake his head resignedly. He apparently knew, like Billy did, that Vester would not be persuaded to leave without Fulgora. The Gray Power turned for a moment and moved his arms in a subtle motion. A small whirlwind erupted in front of the rapidly-approaching zombie, whipping it around in a circle and then flipping it ten feet back, gaining them some time. Billy could also see that all through the stadium, other windstorms and fires were blazing into existence, as well as trees with writhing branches that blocked the zombies’ forward motion as other Powers tried to defend themselves long enough to escape. A few waterspouts erupted from the pool in the arena, as well, raining streams of water that flushed some of the zombies down into the lowest levels of the stadium.
In the midst of all of this, the thing that frightened Billy the most was the panicked look on Tempus’s face, and the fear that flitted in Vester’s eyes. If these two Powers were afraid, what chance would a mere boy like Billy have to get out of this alive?
And then the world exploded.
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH
In Which Billy sees the Hidden Place, and trips into Flame…
A moment later, Billy realized that the world hadn’t really exploded. Not quite. But it seemed to.
There was some kind of detonation, a roar so huge that the sound waves themselves knocked Billy off his feet. A sudden hail of pebbles rained down on and around him, plinking on the plastic seats of the stadium. Billy saw that their zombie pursuer had been knocked down by the blast as well, allowing Billy a moment to look around and see what new terror was being visited on them.
As he did, the ground bucked and heaved. Billy heard the sound of stones shearing away from one another. There was a huge thud as a twenty foot high stone landed within mere feet of him. The good news was that it squashed the pursuing zombie flat. The bad news was that it ripped away a large chunk of the stadium, leaving a gaping hole where seats had been. Billy almost fell into the vast crevasse, and was only saved by Vester’s quick hand snaring him away from the abyss.
There were more thuds all around, more rocks falling from the sky. Vester yanked Billy back into motion, still heading for the mezzanine, as Billy looked up. The falling stones were coming from the tower that loomed over Powers Island. The very blocks that made up the huge structure were cracking off and plummeting to the ground below with nuclear blasts of sound. So far, the tower itself hadn’t collapsed, still mostly held together by the great branches of the Earthtree that provided its support. But Billy wondered how long it would be before the entire structure fell to the ground, crushing everything below it to oblivion.
“Come on!” yelled Vester. “Keep up!”
He yanked Billy forward, Billy’s shorter legs pumping as fast as they could to stay abreast of his friend. Billy heard Tempus say a word that his mother had told him was Not Nice, and then muttered something else under his breath. As soon as the Gray Power did so, Billy felt a gust of wind at his back, propelling him forward. The wind increased, and now he, Vester, and Tempus were all being borne forward by a pillow of air, moving faster than they had been running.
“Thanks, Tempus,” said Vester.
“You Fires are all so impetuous,” was all the old man said in response, but he was smiling. The smile dissipated, though, when they got to the mezzanine, and were faced with hordes of screaming people, zombies plowing through them and leaving unmoving bodies behind. Tempus’s forehead wrinkled in concentration as he made the wind upon which the three of them rested whip through and over the crowd, narrowly avoiding the clutching hands of several zombies.
As they passed, Billy could see that no two zombies were alike. Some were short, some were tall, others fat, some so thin they looked like skeletons. But all had that same flaky, grotesquely colored skin, and all of them had huge eyes that seemed to look everywhere at once.
“Now might be a good time to get your fire ready,” said Tempus. “Just in case.”
Vester pulled out his matchbook and struck a match. It sizzled to life, and immediately he pinched the flame between his fingers and put it in his pocket. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vester said to the Gray Power.
The three of them continued to rocket forward at speeds that alarmed and exhilarated Billy. The space between the mezzanine floor and the beginning of the next level up was limited, and Billy nearly had his head scraped off on the ceiling a few times as they rose to avoid being grabbed by zombies or knocked into by fleeing Powers.
He also thought he could hear several hot dogs moaning that they had been abandoned before being properly eaten. “Woe is me!” screamed one particularly frazzled frankfurter. “Never more shall I know the bliss of being rolled around in someone’s mouth, the pleasure of being sent into his stomach, through his intestines, and at last taking the final step of my journey into—” Thankfully, someone stepped on that hot dog before it could finish its thought, squashing it into a reddish paste and putting it out of its misery.
At last, Billy and his friends reached the doors to the Recovery Room. Because no one had been near here, the area was relatively quiet. Pandemonium still ruled in Powers Stadium, and huge pieces of the tower were still plunging to earth, but Billy was relieved that there were, at least, no zombies nearby.
As soon as they touched ground, Vester was off and running, Billy and Tempus close behind him as the young fireman ran to the closed Recovery Room doors. He pulled at them, but they were locked. Vester immediately reached into his pocket and grabbed his flame. The small fire elongated and rounded into a recognizable shape: a fire axe. Vester swung it expertly in a great sideways arc that bit deep into the locked door before him. Another swing, and the door splintered into two large, smoking pieces.
Vester collapsed the fire axe like a telescope between his two hands, and put the fire back into his pocket again. Then he ran into the room, Billy and Tempus close behind.
Fulgora was there, still unconscious, laying on a white bed in the middle of
the room. No one else was with her; apparently anyone tending her had not felt bound by any kind of doctor-patient loyalty and had fled before Billy and his two friends arrived.
Vester gathered Fulgora tenderly into his strong arms, holding her tight against his chest. One of the fireman’s hands, Billy saw, was now also clutching something tightly, though Billy couldn’t see what. Then the fireman opened his fist, and Billy saw what he had been holding: a small glass marble, the kind Billy had played with when younger. It was bright red, with a streak of orange in its center.
“Ready?” asked Vester.
Tempus nodded. Vester looked at Billy. “I don’t have to tell you, do I?”
“Hold my breath,” Billy said dutifully.
Vester nodded, then maneuvered the marble between his thumb and forefinger. With a flick of his thumb, he tossed the marble into the air. It flew in a straight line for about two feet, then disappeared in midair with a tiny flash of light.
Then….
Nothing happened.
“Well?” said Tempus.
Vester grimaced. “I’m no Artetha.”
“You made the key yourself?” Tempus said incredulously.
Vester looked almost embarrassed—no mean feat with all the destruction going on within mere feet of them. “I like to make stuff,” he said.
“Stuff that doesn’t work!” roared Tempus.
“Just give it a second,” said Vester. Sure enough, as soon as he said that, a shimmering circle of flame about seven feet in diameter sprouted into life at the same spot the marble had disappeared. Vester looked triumphantly at Tempus. “See?” he said.
“Next time we use a professionally made key,” said Tempus. He stepped toward the fire-ringed Transport door. Then he paused. “Where are we going?”
Billy had wanted to know the same thing, but had been too worried about everything going on around them to ask.
“Someplace safe,” said Vester. That reassured Billy. Then Vester added, “I hope.” That did not reassure Billy.
But then a new round of screaming and thuds started filtering into the Recovery Room. A zombie peered in through the ruined door, and spotted them. It immediately started moving forward, its huge eyes leering evilly at them.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” shouted Tempus. He ran through the fire door and disappeared with a flash of color only slightly more vivid than his Hawaiian shirt and pink shorts.
“Go!” shouted Vester, shoving Billy at the door and then jumping simultaneously through as well, still holding Fulgora tightly to him. Billy held his breath, and jumped.
The first thing he was aware of upon landing wherever it was he had landed was that it was somewhere very, very hot. As usual when Transporting, Billy had been blinded by the light that always accompanied the move, so he had his eyes scrunched tightly shut. The wave of heat that hit him felt like he was inside an oven, about to be broiled at around six hundred degrees.
Then Billy opened his eyes, and realized that he had no such luck: he wasn’t in an oven. He looked around, proud of himself for not screaming inadvertently at what he saw. But no matter how much he craned his neck to the left or right, there was no denying where he now found himself.
He was standing on a rocky ledge.
And the ledge was on the inside wall of an active volcano.
As it had done the last time he left Powers Island, Billy’s “Billy—unDetermined” badge disappeared with a puff of smoke and a sizzle of flame. But Billy hardly noticed the noise, since it was drowned out by the far greater sound of the volcano. Everything seemed to be crackling with heat, and far below the narrow ledge on which they stood, magma bubbled and burbled like thick red soup in a huge deadly bowl.
“Why is it always a volcano or a blizzard? Just once I’d like to be transported into a room made completely of pillows, or maybe a planet whose only inhabitants are giant ice cream sundaes with sprinkles,” Tempus was saying to no one in particular, even as Billy and Vester were just stepping through the doorway. Billy looked behind him and saw that the fire ring through which they had stepped was shrinking, now only half the size it had been when they stepped through.
And suddenly, he also saw a hand, mottled green and gray, that gripped the side of the fire. There was a sizzling sound as flesh burned, but the hand just clung all the tighter, physically pulling the ring of fire wider, wider.
Wide enough to let the zombie that had seen them in the Recovery Room at Powers Stadium step through. As soon as it was through, the fiery doorway disappeared behind it with a snap. Billy, Vester, Tempus, and the unconscious Fulgora were now trapped on the ledge with the creature.
Tempus yelled incoherently. He then followed that up with “Zombie!” As though anyone on the ledge needed that pointed out to them.
The creature looked around with its two huge eyes, a bit disoriented. Then it zeroed in on Billy and started toward him. As before, it moved purposefully, though Billy did notice that it had a tendency to stumble occasionally, as though not fully in control of its own muscles.
Billy backpedaled frantically, looking for some avenue of escape. But he was already backed up to the edge of the ledge. Below him, the lava burbled hungrily. Billy didn’t know what would be worse, falling into lava or being touched by a zombie, but he hated the fact that he had to think about such things. He longed suddenly for the days when his worst fears involved being whether he would be put in a locker or have a spit wad blown at him through a straw.
The zombie was close now. Tempus and Vester were screaming at one another to do something.
“Make fire!” shouted Tempus.
“My hands are full!” responded Vester. “Make wind!”
“If I blow the zombie away, I might blow Billy right off the edge!” Tempus screamed back.
The zombie was within feet of Billy now, still lurching forward. It reached out a disgusting finger. Billy saw that the creature’s nails were discolored and rotting, as were the monster’s teeth, which Billy saw far too clearly as it grinned an evilly triumphant grin.
The finger was inches away. This was it. Billy closed his eyes and did his best to prepare for whatever was about to happen. He thought of Blythe, and for once the thought did nothing to make him feel better. He was about to die in a volcano, touched by a zombie. Things couldn’t get much worse.
Then there was a shuffling, slithering noise to Billy’s right. He mentally yelled at himself for thinking that things couldn’t get much worse. That was just asking for it.
And sure enough, things were, in fact, looking even worse now. Because there was something hideous growing out of the bare rock right next to Billy. It was awful enough that even the zombie paused, looking at the fearful monstrosity that swelled to huge proportions beside Billy in a matter of seconds.
Billy couldn’t really tell what it was, but it reminded him more than anything of a Venus flytrap. Only this one was about twenty feet tall, and its green-toothed mouth was six feet or more across. The plant hissed, and its mouth swiveled blindly toward Billy.
Sure, thought Billy. It wasn’t enough that I was going to either be boiled in lava or knocked out by a zombie. Now I also get to choose Door Number Three: a painful death by plant-eating!
The zombie was still smiling widely, its eyes dead and black, its dark, rotting tongue licking its lips in anticipation of coming mayhem.
The smile disappeared less than a second later. In fact, the entire zombie disappeared. Because the giant flytrap suddenly snapped forward, not toward Billy, but toward the zombie. The zombie had a single instant in which it screamed, a thin high-pitched wheeze of a scream that came from deep within its rotten lungs. Then the scream cut off as the flytrap snapped shut around it.
The flytrap straightened up to its full height, the mouth at the apex, and chomped once. Billy had never been very fond of people who chewed with their mouths open. But he determined at that moment that he would rather sit in a room with a thousand open-mouthed food chewers than listen to the
sound of a giant Venus flytrap chomping on a zombie ever again.
The flytrap chomped once more, then something strange happened. The plant heaved and bucked, and its entire body shivered. The plant’s body turned gray, as though it had aged a thousand years in one instant. It withered and wilted. And as it did, Billy saw why. The zombie’s fingers curled around the edges of the flytrap’s mouth, forcing the plant open. Apparently the zombie’s touch worked on plants as well as people, and the Venus flytrap was now as immobile—and perhaps dead—as had been those in Powers Stadium who were unfortunate enough to be touched by one of the zombies.
The zombie in the flytrap’s mouth had been partially crushed, but didn’t appear to mind. It glared down at Billy, looking angrier now than it had before, as the flytrap’s mouth slowly lowered toward Billy.
Billy reacted instinctively, not really meaning to do what he did. But suddenly he found himself at the base of the flytrap, his arms around the plant’s vine-like trunk, pushing as hard as he could. The zombie, seeing what Billy was trying to do, screamed its horrid scream again. It pushed even harder against the mouth of the flytrap, trying to force it open far enough that the zombie would be able to jump out.
It almost made it. But the second before the creature could get itself untangled from the immobilized plant’s toothy grip, Billy heard a wonderful sound: the sound of tearing roots.
The flytrap lurched slowly to one side. Billy redoubled his efforts, pushing even harder. All the time spent trying to get out of lockers had thankfully built up his pushing muscles, so with a last ugly ripping, the flytrap slowly toppled over the side of the ledge, the zombie still in the huge plant’s mouth.
Together the two monsters plummeted downward, and at last fell into the lava below. They disappeared with a hiss and a gout of flame. Billy breathed a sign of relief. Then he turned to look at Vester and Tempus, who were looking at him with a mixture of shock and relief.
“Well,” Tempus finally managed, “that was a stroke of luck.”
Billy: Messenger of Powers Page 20