I watched through dimming vision as the axe hurtled downward, but Ell blocked the blow with her rifle. Scrambling and off-balance, she slammed the gun against the side of Fatima’s head, and Fatima collapsed.
By that time it was too late.
Berretti pounced on her and shoved a revolver against her temple. He no longer seemed sick and weak. His energy had been renewed.
“That’s enough, Eleanor,” he snarled.
Lee and Larry tied us up. We were placed only a few feet from the ground’s opening, at the apex of the triangle.
Berretti knelt down in front of me. He was sick—you could see it in his eyes, the way they sunk into his face—but for a dying man, he was quite agile and lively.
“I knew I should’ve had you killed when I had the chance, Grady,” he said. “You’ve been nothing but a problem for me ever since you crawled through the snow and begged for our help.” He laughed, but the laughter morphed into a coughing fit, which he quickly got under control.
Credence sidled up to him and rubbed his back. “Soon, my love, soon,” she said.
He waved his hand and focused on me again. “You know, that beating Larry and Ray gave you got me in hot water with Nick and George. They started wondering why they needed me around. Then when you started getting buddy-buddy with Nick, all of sudden he became a little more cautious about my work. Coincidence? I don’t think so. And tonight, you try to break up this beautiful event? No, no, no. No more. That’s it. The City’s mine, and pretty soon, both it and I will be one with the shadows.”
Credence laughed. “Oh, yes.”
The floor trembled. Dust and debris fell from above, clattering in the distance. The temperature of the hub had somehow decreased drastically in a matter of seconds.
“She’s coming!” Credence yelled. “She’s almost here! I can feel her! Can you feel her, John?”
Berretti didn’t answer. He was looking up, oblivious to everything else. I wanted to see what he was focusing on. The light inside stayed ethereal, like a graveyard at dusk, but I could still see the wraiths hovering above, an entire wall of them. They were waiting, biding their time, the same way they had when Ed Hark murdered Jonas, their hunger and malice radiating throughout the icy air.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered to Ell. I don’t know how many times I had told her that in the past. Too many times. Each time I had, some part of me thoroughly believed it was going to be okay. Right then, however, not one fiber of my being believed we’d get out of this alive. It wasn’t a matter of life and death anymore; it was now a matter of when we’d die.
But Ell, who’d been quiet and mostly calm up to this point, leaned back and smiled. “I know it is.” She then slid her hand across the floor and grabbed mine.
“What? How the hell—?” I began. She was tied like I’d been tied. Now she wasn’t.
“Here.” A small piece of glass filled my palm. “Easy.”
In awe, I slipped it up my sleeve just as Lee strode past. He was blank-faced and moving like a zombie from some cheap horror movie. The black marks on his face had seemed to turn darker. It could’ve been the dying light, but I doubted it.
Once he turned his back, I got to work sawing the rope. It wasn’t easy. Hell, the sharpness seemed to cut through my gloves more than it did the twine, but after a few moments of trying, I felt the binds loosen enough for me to be able to pull my wrists apart.
Only, it was still too dangerous to make a run for it.
Turning my head, I caught Nina’s eyes. Her execution had since been forgotten, thankfully—but for how long, who knew. I tried to convey to her that it’d be okay; I don’t know if I was doing a good job.
Credence stood to our side at the triangle's point. Berretti knelt beside her, his head bowed and eyes closed.
Staring at her open notebook, Credence spoke nonsensical words. As her voice rose, so did the strength of the tremors. This caused a few of the stacked corpses to slip into the fissure, and that eerie ethereal light pulsed from inside of it.
And deep, deep down, I caught the grotesque silhouette of some emerging beast.
“Here she is!” Credence repeated. “The Matron is coming!”
The screams of the few remaining survivors weren’t enough to drown out her voice.
Berretti, Lee, and Larry stayed silent. In shock and awe, most likely.
“Turn away,” I said to Ell. “Don’t look.”
But that was impossible.
With a thundering boom, a black hand as large as a car reached from the opening and gripped the side.
The floor dipped inward, and more corpses fell through.
Now the droning graduated to a horrible buzz, causing something wet to begin trickling out of my ears.
Blood.
“Run!” I shouted at Ell, pulling her to her feet. “Run—”
A second explosion sounded behind, joining the horrible cacophony.
I snapped my head in that direction and saw the tank, its high beams on, trundling through the hole in the wall and over debris before it stopped a few feet away.
The doors flew open, and Stone and George fell out with rifles in hand. They fired at Credence and Berretti, Lee and Larry, who all scrambled for cover.
They weren’t fast enough, however.
Berretti took a barrage of bullets and crumbled to the floor. Lee and Larry were cut down by Stone’s shots. Credence, her back to them, was hit in the shoulder/neck area. She promptly fell forward, landing face-first among the blood she was so eager to spill, dead before she hit the floor.
“Let’s go!” Stone shouted, lowering his gun. “Come on! Double time!” He dropped to his knees, moving as smoothly as I could remember since his accident, and began
