by Chris Cooper
Gideon smirked as he pinned the man’s hands down.
The Collector opened his eyes, but only the whites were visible. Tears formed in the corners as his irises appeared from behind his eyelids and seemed to pulse, shifting in hue from hazel to dark brown. As the man’s aggressive expression faded, so did the shade of his skin.
Gideon let go of him and knelt back in disgust.
The Collector’s body convulsed on the ground, his bright-red hair receding into his scalp and long brown locks shooting out in its place. His body seemed to absorb his clothing, and his hips expanded outward as his legs lengthened.
Gideon stood and looked at Oliver, who eyed the shifting form.
The short angry redhead had transformed into a woman, lying unconscious on the station floor. Oliver immediately recognized her tattered dress.
Gideon looked at Oliver as if waiting for instructions.
“Prop her up,” he said, still unable to make sense of the scene.
Gideon slung the woman over a shoulder then set her against the lamppost, holding her arms securely behind her.
She let out a soft sigh as her head nodded against her chest.
The woman shook herself awake and shifted uncomfortably against the pole as Oliver and Eric knelt across from her. Her eyes darted between them as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings.
“Where am I?” she asked.
Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.
“No, no! Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me anything. He might be listening.”
“Who are you?” Oliver asked.
She ignored his question. “Is the boy safe?”
“At the moment,” Oliver replied, looking back at Asher.
“We have little time.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she struggled against Gideon’s hold. “There’s a key around my neck. It’ll give you access to the train.”
Oliver leaned in close and pulled the chain over her head. “How are you controlling the weather?”
“It’s stolen magic,” the woman said. “The flames, the storm—it’s all stolen.” Her eyes widened.
Magic left behind. He’d first learned about it from Ruby. Unnaturals could leave some of their powers behind in objects. The force field that once protected Briarwood was an example. Oliver still wasn’t sure how it worked exactly, but the lighter must have been another magical artifact.
“He’s got something on the train for the storm. I don’t know where—he’s hidden it from me, but if you find it, the storm will stop.”
“Why are you helping us?” Oliver asked, still unsure of whether to trust the woman.
“I can’t see everything,” she said. “But I know he plans to kill you and destroy the town once you’ve given him the boy.”
“But why?” Oliver asked. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “He’s been with me since I was a child, and the older I get, the more I sleep and the longer he’s awake. You must have knocked him out.”
“How did he find you?” Oliver asked.
“I found him, hiding under the foot of my bed.”
“He was hiding under your bed?” Oliver asked.
“No, I was hiding. I’d made Father mad again. He tripped over one of my dolls on the floor. So I hid, and he reached out from the darkness and told me he could help. But he was inside me, in my head.”
“I told my parents about him, but they didn’t believe me. My father even tried to beat him out of me. He didn’t like that. He told me to trust him, and I let him take control. He’s always had a thing for fire. He went to the garage and pulled out the gasoline can that night—oh, how the house burned! I remember their screaming as I watched from the lawn. He’d shoved a doorstop under their bedroom door.” Her eyes became red as she told the story.
Eric’s face had gone pale.
“I tried to tell them I didn’t do it. I could never have done something like that, but the police didn’t believe me. They sent me away. I thought he was gone after the fire, but he came back. It was the guard—when the guard would…”
Oliver’s stomach soured.
“He killed him—I’m sure of it—and when I woke up next, I was sleeping under an overpass. He escaped somehow, I don’t know how, but he did.”
Eric motioned for Gideon to loosen his grip.
“No!” the woman shouted. “If you let me go, you will all die.”
“Where did he get the lighter?”
“Met a man in an institution a few years ago who liked to start fires too. They became good friends. He could start fires with gasoline, sure, but this man could start them with his hands. All he needed was a spark. That’s his magic in the lighter. He stole it too.”
“Why is he after Asher?”
The woman shrugged. “Power? Using the lighter has its costs, but the blood heals his wounds.”
Oliver sat back on his heels. He swept his hand through a pile of snow and let the flakes fall through his fingers. He thought of the radio and the phones, all unusable since the storm started. The sudden blizzard and the isolation from neighboring towns seemed impossible.
“If the storm comes from stolen magic, who did he steal it from?” Oliver asked.
The woman looked down at her lap. “The woman who held the tanks of blood in her shop,” she replied.
“Ruby?”
She nodded.
Oliver felt as if his veins had been injected with ice water. “Where is she?”
The woman remained silent.
Oliver reached over and shook her by the shoulders. “What did he do with her? Is she still alive?”
“I think we have a problem!” Anna shouted from the edge of the station.
Oliver turned toward her. “What?”
“I hear screaming coming from the town hall.”
Chapter Eleven
Anna stood at the entrance of the station, overlooking the square as another shrill scream pierced the air.
Oliver pointed at the woman. “Get her inside,” he told Gideon. He hopped up to the door of the first car and unlocked it with the Collector’s key as Gideon helped the woman to her feet.
“Stay here with her,” he added.
Anna took off toward the hall, and the rest of the pack followed close behind.
A pair of blood seekers were pulling at the building’s rear door, and Oliver arrived just in time to see a metal flagpole pop out from the crack in the door and catch one on the side of the head. Eric pulled his pistol from his holster and fired five staccato shots, knocking each of the seekers to the ground.
As the seekers lay motionless, Eric tried to open the rear door, but the overzealous townsfolk inside mistook him for another seeker and smacked him with the flagpole.
“It’s me, for God’s sake. Is everyone all right?” he shouted to the people inside.
The door shot open, and Tom stood on the other side, brandishing the improvised weapon. “Everyone’s fine. Are there any more of them?”
Oliver stood next to Anna and Asher by the back door of the hall and stared down into the snowy field below. The moonlight reflected off the snow, making it easy to see three figures breaking through the tree line, highlighted against the white backdrop.
“Guess they’ve figured out the barrier’s broken,” Anna said.
“The blood seekers are coming,” Oliver turned toward Eric.
Eric stepped forward and looked down at the field. “How many?”
“Three that I can see, but there could be more,” Oliver replied.
“Definitely more than three,” Eric said, squinting at the field below.
Oliver took another look and saw the pack had grown to five or six. He swallowed hard. “How much ammunition do you have?”
“Two spare clips and what’s left in this one.”
“If the blood seekers get inside, they will kill everyone. The townspeople will have a much better chance if you stay with the gun. I don’t know how many there will be,
but all they’ll have are knives and swords.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?” Eric asked.
“I’ll lead them away from the hall. I’ll try to get them to the train station and Gideon.” He paused. “Where’s Madeline?”
“She went inside to find Martin,” Eric replied.
“Perfect. She’ll be better off staying behind with the rest of the town.”
“I’m going with you,” Anna said.
“Me too,” Asher added.
Oliver looked at Asher, who had nothing but an empty flare gun. “How are you going to defend yourself?”
Asher lifted his shirt and pulled a leather-wrapped dagger from his belt. “Gideon gave this to me before we left. Guess he thought the flare gun might not be enough.” He grinned.
“I can’t let you go running off and getting yourself killed,” Eric said.
“I’m not asking. The townspeople need you. Even if they get in, you’ve got your weapon. I don’t know how many more are coming, and if they find out the townsfolk are hiding in the hall, you likely won’t have enough bullets. Just lock the door, stay quiet, and don’t open it until we get back.”
Eric’s eyebrows twitched, and Oliver assumed he was having a hard time taking orders, but his expression softened as he looked back at the people inside.
He turned toward the trio. “Just be careful.”
“We will be back,” Oliver added.
Eric patted him on the shoulder, and Oliver pushed the door closed.
“They’re getting closer,” Anna said, gripping her bat tightly.
The trio positioned themselves at the end of the dirt road, next to the marketplace.
The pack of blood seekers came into focus, six in total, led by a hulking beast. Oliver raised his weapon and prepared to fire. Once the seekers were close enough, he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through the leader’s left shoulder. He stumbled for a moment but regained his balance, grunting loudly as he ran toward them.
Oliver cocked again and fired, this time ignoring the giant in favor of one of the others flanking him. The bullet struck that seeker in the chest, and he fell, sliding in the snow.
“One down,” Oliver said.
“At least we have their attention,” Anna added.
As the trio sprinted toward the train station, Oliver struggled to reload his gun.
Gideon was watching from a distance, and by the time they’d reached the train, he had jumped down from the engine door and raised his sword, ready to strike.
The pack split in two, with the leader peeling off toward Gideon as the rest continued the chase.
As Oliver reached the side of the train, he twisted around and fired. The first shot missed completely, but the second struck one of the scrawnier blood seekers in the abdomen, sending him tumbling against a trash can.
“One for each of us!” Anna swung hard at an approaching blood seeker and knocked it back, but the creature quickly recovered.
Asher stood with dagger drawn, swiping wildly at another.
The third lunged at Oliver, who had no time to reload. The seeker brought his rusty sword down, but Oliver deflected with his weapon, which sent his gun sword flying down the station platform.
The seeker closed in and raised his sword once more. He grinned widely, flashing his broken yellow teeth.
As Oliver backed against the train, he remembered the lighter in his pocket—the magic left behind—and pulled the metal contraption free. He had no clue how to operate the device and no time to learn, but he flipped the lid and clicked the flint wheel as the others fought in his periphery.
A burst of flame shot from his palm, rushing from his hand and knocking him against the train. The fireball exploded off the seeker, who let out a bloody cry. Oliver screamed, too, because the flame had backfired, scorching his sleeve and burning his hand and lower arm.
The blood seeker writhed on the ground, rolling around in agony until he gradually came to rest, his burning body hissing in the snow.
Oliver turned toward the others and fired another incendiary burst at the seeker who had cornered Asher. The pain was more intense this time and radiated through his arm to the rest of his body.
Anna seemed to be holding her own, so Oliver set his sights on Gideon and the leader of the pack. The pain in his arm made focusing difficult, and Gideon was too close to his adversary for Oliver to send another clumsy burst of fire his way.
Although Gideon was tall and muscular, this seeker was more so, somehow thriving while the others had starved. He reflected every heavy blow Gideon delivered, and Gideon was slowing.
“There are more coming!” Anna yelled as she stood over a struggling blood seeker.
Oliver heard a predatory scream in the distance and broke into a cold sweat. How many are there?
Although Gideon’s skirmish was blocking access to the engine and the first passenger car of the train for the time being, the door to the caboose sat exposed. Oliver hopped up on the metal step and unlocked the door.
“Get in!” he shouted to Asher. “We’ll be right behind you. We won’t be able to take all of them like this.”
Asher hesitated.
“Just go!” Oliver shouted.
Asher climbed the steps into the caboose, and Oliver triggered the metal door behind him, sliding it into place.
“Get away from him!” Oliver shouted at Gideon.
The blood seeker swung, and Gideon stepped to one side, leaving enough room for another fireball. Oliver raised his aching hand and flicked the wheel, but the burst stopped short as the pain became too much to bear.
Gideon moved in to strike, but the creature delivered a swift kick to Gideon’s chest, knocking him backward against a station bench. He then set his sights on Oliver, who tried to conjure another burst of fire with no luck. The fear of incinerating himself was all too real, and the pain made him shake. His mind raced to find a solution. As the seeker closed in, Oliver turned and sprinted toward the second train car, then he unlocked the door and climbed inside.
“Come and get me!” he yelled.
The plan was foolish, he was certain, but the seeker plodded after him, holding his makeshift blade ready to strike. He entered the car with the elaborate office and fish ponds then opened the door between his car and the caboose.
He waited for the blood seeker to follow him inside then shut the door as he hopped back down to the tracks.
As Gideon approached the door to the second car, Oliver shouted, “Wait!” He jumped in front of Gideon and pressed the button to close the exterior door, locking the blood seeker inside.
“He’s trapped,” he panted. “Not going to do any harm in there.”
“They’re coming,” Anna said, looking toward the square.
Oliver fell to the ground as the pain in his arm pulsed.
“Are you all right?”
The train lurched forward on the tracks, its wet joins squealing to life after days of sitting stationary in the Christchurch station.
“Where's the woman?” Oliver asked as his head spun. He had forgotten all about her during the fight. He rolled over toward the engine, but the door was shut. He caught his breath while he searched the horizon for additional blood seekers.
“We’ve got to get him to the train before the blood seekers get here,” Anna told Gideon.
“No! What are you doing?” Oliver slurred.
Gideon lifted him by his shoulders as the train crept by.
“Let me go!” Oliver shouted but was too weak to fight Gideon off.
Anna hopped onto the end of caboose and helped Gideon lay Oliver on the caboose platform, tossing his gun blade next to him.
“Come on,” Anna told Gideon.
Oliver lifted his head just in time to see Gideon leap from the end of the caboose back onto the station platform.
“What are you doing?” Anna shouted.
As the train pulled away, Gideon raced toward the town square, the direction of the blood seekers’ ho
wls.
Oliver’s head fell backward against the metal grate as dizziness overcame him.
He looked into the sky, which flashed like a static channel on an old television, shifting from overcast gray to light blue. He turned his head, and the snow seemed to wriggle on the ground, expanding and contracting, until it receded completely, replaced by green grass underneath. The signs of the storm that had ravaged Christchurch for several days disappeared in an instant, then Oliver’s world went black.
Chapter Twelve
Oliver awoke to Anna and Asher leaning over him. The ceiling of a train car had replaced the shifting sky.
“Feeling all right?” Asher asked.
Oliver rubbed his forehead. “I think so. How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes,” Anna replied. “Your face went pale, and you stopped responding. You must have gone into shock.” She held up a vial of Asher’s phosphorescent blood. “Fortunately, we found a few of these in the Collector’s drawer.”
Asher grinned. “I should start a business. I’ve seen the miracle cures on daytime TV. We would be rich.”
A twinge of pain brought Oliver’s attention to his arm. His sleeve had been burned, but his blistering red skin had mostly healed, and the last patch was bubbling as if insects were running underneath. Three empty vials lay on the floor next to him.
Anna and Asher helped Oliver sit up and leaned him against a wall.
Oliver looked around the room. The car must have served as both the Collector’s sleeping quarters and his storage. A bed sat against the far wall, and stacks of wooden storage crates sat in one corner.
Oliver pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the blacked-out window. “Did you see the sky?”
“It flashed from gray to blue,” Anna replied, “and Christchurch was back to normal by the time the train left town.”
“That means Ruby’s magic has to be on the train, right?” Oliver asked.
“We couldn’t find anything in the car,” Asher replied.
“If he’s using her powers, do you think she’s still alive?” Anna asked.
Asher lowered his head.
