She ran forward, scanning her eyes left and right. Tick-where are you?
“Tick!” she yelled when she spotted him, sprinting toward her friend.
He looked terrible, sweaty and cut up, wandering around like a drunk man, feeling at the air with shaking hands, staring with blank eyes. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Every step he took sent a ripple surging through the floor away from him, like a stone dropped in water. Chunks of the ceiling fell and were whipped away just before crushing his body, as if a host of guardian angels hovered above him, protecting him.
“Tick!” she yelled again, but he didn’t respond. He looked so awful, so… crazy, she could hardly believe it was the same boy she knew.
Sofia kept running, looking above to dodge falling objects, winding her way back and forth toward Tick. A few remaining workers pushed past her in the opposite direction, fleeing. A thick man with a spotty beard crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. Sofia screamed something rude in Italian as she scrambled to get back up.
She caught a flash out of the corner of her eye, looking up just in time to see a spinning rod of metal right before it slammed into her shoulder. She fell again, and a boxy contraption plummeted from the sky, landed on its corner, then fell over to pin her legs to the floor. She pushed at the smashed box with both hands, but couldn’t move it off her feet.
The sounds of destruction intensified-crashing, banging, exploding, breaking. Objects of all sizes fell from the false sky like the world’s worst hailstorm, smashing to pieces all around her. The volume of noise pierced her ears, threatening to break her ear drums.
Sofia saw the long rod of metal that had smacked her shoulder nearby. She squirmed awkwardly until she could reach it; she grabbed it, pulled it close. The rod was twisted and curved like a crowbar. Wedging one end under the clunky, destroyed box that used to be part of who-knew-what awful invention of Chu’s empire, she pushed on the other end of the lever with both arms, gathering every ounce of strength left inside her. At first nothing moved, but she let out a scream of effort, throwing every part of her into getting that stupid thing off-
The metal box toppled over with a sound lost in the symphony of destruction filling the gigantic chamber.
Sofia got to her feet, ignoring the throbs of pain lancing through her legs. Half-limping, half-running, she went after Tick. He was so close, still spinning in circles, stumbling, shouting things Sofia didn’t understand. He looked like a man who’d lost his mind. Falling objects from the ceiling were deflected at the last minute as though a shield protected him from harm. Sofia ran on, zigzagging and stumbling herself.
She reached Tick, tackling him to the ground. “Tick, what’s wrong with you?”
“It burns!” he screamed. “Someone help me! I can’t control it! Someone help me! ”
Sofia didn’t think he even knew she was there. She fumbled in her pocket, panic making her hands shake. She felt around, grasped the silver pen, pulled it out.
“My brain is splitting!” Tick screamed, thrashing around, hitting her.
Sofia didn’t know exactly what the pen would do to him, or if it would hurt, or how long it would affect him. She didn’t know anything for sure. But she had to do it.
“Tick, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She jabbed the end of the pen into Tick’s neck and pushed the button. A quick hiss sounded as Tick’s head jerked and hit the floor. His body went limp.
Everything went still-the shaking, the crashing, the ripping, the bending.
Everything stopped.
The only sound was a woman still screaming in the distance.
Chapter 48
Paul grunted as he moved another chunk of black glass off the pile.
“Isn’t there another way in?” he asked.
“Ain’t nary a one that ain’t blocked!” Sally shouted, lifting a piece the size of a large suitcase. He threw it and Paul watched it split into several pieces upon landing.
Then Paul noticed the silence.
“Hey… hey!” he shouted.
Everyone else quit working, looking about.
“It’s ruddy well stopped, it ’as,” Mothball said, a crooked-toothed grin breaking across her face.
Paul ran away from the pile, craning his neck to look up at the mountain as he got farther away. Though full of cracks and missing pieces, the building wasn’t shaking or falling apart anymore. The ground wasn’t trembling. The air had grown still and silent, the dust already settling to the ground.
“Sofia did it,” Mothball said, waving Paul back over to help. “Come on, gotta clear this pile. Gotta find ’er and Master Tick.”
Encouraged for the first time in awhile, Paul sprinted back and started sorting through the rubble with renewed vigor, knowing his hurt arm would be some kind of sore tomorrow. Piece after piece, chunk after chunk, the Realitants worked together until a shaft of light escaped from within. They’d found a way through.
“We did it!” Paul shouted, grabbing more pieces. Soon they had a hole big enough for them to enter the damaged building.
Mothball went first, then Sally, then Paul and the other Realitants. They regrouped inside, sweeping their weapons back and forth in case of an attack. There wasn’t a sign of anyone or anything dangerous, only dust and debris.
“Come on, let’s-” Paul started to say, then stopped when he saw movement up ahead in the hallway. He couldn’t make it out at first-it looked like an injured animal crawling along, slide-and-stop, slide-and-stop.
But then the dust settled and the figures came into the light. Everything became clear.
It was Sofia, her back to them, dragging Tick’s battered body down the broken hallway.
~
Somehow, Jane finally quit screaming.
She lay on the floor, her mind trying to shut down in order to avoid the sheer agony of her pain. It filled every inch of her, every organ, every cell, every molecule. Her nerves bristled with it. The slightest movement of her ragged breathing sent fresh pinpricks shooting across her skin, through her skin, into her blood and muscles and bone. She hurt, she ached, she stung. The pain consumed her. The only thing that kept her from weeping was the promise of even more pain.
I tried to help him, she thought. I was only trying to help him. How? How could he have done this to me?
Her eyes had been closed for a long time, the prospect of seeing the damage to her body too horrific. But finally, she allowed her eyelids to slide up. The movement sent a new wave of agony across her face and through her head, as if needles had pierced her skull. But she kept her eyes open.
She did not, however, have the courage to move anything else. She saw only what she could from her current position, crumpled like a rag doll. But it was enough to let her know her life was over.
Shards of gold, small but jagged, covered every inch of her body, jutting from the skin at all kinds of angles. Blood was everywhere, seeping from the wounds. Her body was like a sea of red, a million tiny golden icebergs breaking the surface. Most of the shards appeared to be fused to her skin, impossible to remove. She could only imagine what her face must look like. A beast. A hideous beast.
A bit of the old Jane returned to her then. The one who’d been courageous and strong, unwilling to break under any task or trial. The one who’d fought on, no matter what.
Realities help me, I can do this. I will do this.
Bracing herself, Jane counted silently to three, readying her mind and soul for what she was about to do. Then, as quickly and as efficiently as she could, she pushed her arms below her and stood up.
The blood-curdling scream that erupted from her was inhuman-the terrified shriek of tortured demons. The
