concentrated, I could sense her. She was reaching out from the top of Alto Do Mundo to find us. Something was wrong.
“We left the Stillwell base,” Penny said. “We’re headed back now.”
“You left the Stillwell base nearly two hours ago,” Ai said, still staring into space. “Listen to me carefully: forget whatever you’re fighting about and—”
“She started it—” I said, and before the last word even got out of my mouth, I felt her reach into my head. She reached right through the anger and the drunkenness, and it was like a cold hand grabbed some primal part of me and made my body jump. Penny jumped in the seat next to me, her mouth stuck open.
“Don’t ever interrupt me,” Ai said. “Listen, and do what I say. You’re both in danger—”
Penny could still drive, but that didn’t change the fact that she was drunk and about as distracted as you could get. Her reflexes were good, but even she wasn’t fast enough to react when a man appeared in the headlights in front of us.
For a second, everything seemed to slow down so much that it almost stopped. I could see Ai’s big lips move as she kept talking, but all I could hear was a sort of dull, white noise as Penny cut the wheel and the car tilted on its suspension. Through the windshield, big flakes of snow drifted toward us, past the man in the street. He was dirty and bundled in filthy clothes that hung from his scrawny frame. His cheeks were hollow, and through his parted lips I could see teeth that were yellow and brown.
He looked up from the headlights that bore down on him. He looked right through the glass, right at me, and I could see black spots that branched through the whites of his wide eyes. They followed me as the car began to veer, and he just stood there like he was completely unaware of what was happening.
I didn’t think; I just reached out to the man in the street the same way Ai was reaching out to me. Certain minds were easier to control than others. If a mind was receptive enough, I could reach across the city and touch it, but from a few feet away I could push almost anyone. If I could snap him out of his trance and make him move, then he might have enough time.
The inside of the car got bright as my pupils opened all the way and the light from the dash and the headlights swallowed up almost everything except the man’s face and those strange, blotchy eyes. I concentrated on him, looking for the swirling colors of his consciousness and the bright electric bands underneath that controlled everything. I focused on him as hard as I could as we bore down on him, but instead of the aura that should have been there, I pushed through into nothing but a black void. It was like stepping off the side of a cliff into a huge, bottomless pit.
The car struck him above the knees, and the expression on his face never changed as muscle rippled under the impact and the bones inside snapped. His body pitched forward over the hood as his feet left the ground and one old boot flew off, the rubber heel flapping. His face struck the windshield, and half-rotted teeth shattered against the bulletproof glass.
The car was sliding, and Penny cut the wheel again to compensate as the man’s body tumbled past, tearing the side mirror free as he spun like a rag doll in the air. Only a few feet away, two more men stood in the path of our car, and as I heard the shriek of tires cut through the white noise, I screamed.
Past the two men, I saw three more, and then the road curved past a building face to join the main drag, where every car was stopped. Penny cut the wheel again, but it was too late. The car went into a skid, and I felt the two bodies slam against the door. A head struck the window and sprayed blood, but as everything streaked by, I saw nothing but darkness around them. They had no lives to lose. They were all already dead.
We hit the guardrail head-on. The street, the people, and all the cars whipped past the windshield as the rear wheels came up off the ground behind us, and then we were spinning, end over end through the air.
Nico Wachalowski—VA Hospital
It was dark, and they were all around me. Their bellies were swollen, and the meat inside them had begun to rot. They’d dragged me underground into what used to be an old ammo dump, with decaying wooden walls and a ceiling that buckled under the soft earth above it. It was filled with bones and scraps of clothing. They’d used this place before.
I’d relived that day more times than I could count. Every time I told myself to fight, and every time I didn’t until the first set of teeth bit down. No matter how many years passed, I couldn’t shake it; from the crooked teeth that punched through first, to the cold tongue that touched the mouthful of skin.
Pain bored into my shoulder as the thing’s wet, grimy hair tickled my neck and face. I heard the crunch and screamed. It raised its head with a chunk of my flesh clenched in its teeth, while another one crowded in and bit down where the blood was pumping out. They were eating me. They were eating me alive.
I pushed against them, but the space was too tight. They were too heavy. A knee bashed into my ear. I tried to twist my head, but they had me pinned. A thumb slipped into my eye socket and warmth gushed down my cheek, into my ear. With the eye I had left, I saw one of them pulling a big strip of skin away. In the dim light, I could make out the chest hairs sprouting from it.
I vomited. One of them shoved the eye it had popped free into its mouth. Cold fingers groped at me, holding me. All I saw were sets of teeth stained red. I slipped into shock, and my mind disconnected. The cold feeling turned warm, and something deep inside began to soothe me. It whispered for me to let go.
I’d relived this memory again and again, but a part of that day was gone. They told me it might never come back. The next thing I could ever remember was Sean’s voice calling my name.
Then there, in a gap between the bodies that crowded around me, I saw a face I couldn’t remember ever seeing before.
It was the face of a young boy with black skin and tangled black hair. He was a native; scrawny, dirty, and out of uniform. He couldn’t have been older than twelve. His pulse throbbed at his neck and his eyes were wide.
Someone else had been down in that tunnel with me. In the light of the single, swaying overhead bulb, I saw the flash of metal as the boy positioned the tip of the blade behind the closest revivor’s neck. How could I have forgotten that?
He pushed the knife into the flesh and twisted it. From the way the revivor dropped, I knew he’d severed the primary nodes at the brain stem. He moved to the next one, the blade shaking and dripping black.
I fought them then. My brain seized on the hope that I might still survive, and I fought.
They saw the boy. One of them swung, but he got out of the way as the bayonet tugged at his filthy shirt. With most of my strength gone, the others turned their backs to me and closed on their fresh victim.
He tried for the side tunnel he’d come through, but another one had come in behind him. He was cut off. He scrambled back until he hit one of the makeshift walls. One of the planks was broken, and behind it was a small space that someone had dug out to hide food or munitions.
The boy squeezed through just as they reached him. He retreated back into the cubby as grimy fingers clawed an inch from his face. I pushed myself up and got on my hands and knees next to the revivor that lay facedown in
