The Blade of Shattered Hope 1r-3

by James Dashner

  Tick barely heard the words. He couldn’t hold back the Chi’karda anymore. He’d let it go too far, and now it was too late to stop it. His insides had become a roaring inferno.

  Something seemed to rip deep inside of him, and he screamed from the pain. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. Trying to escape it, he curled into a ball and screamed again, as loudly as he could.

  Everything changed.

  The dusty desert around him vanished, replaced by trees.

  The power and burning disappeared, as did the pain, and everything was perfectly silent, except for his quick and heavy breaths.

  He was in the middle of a forest. And he was alone.

  Chapter 25

  Silver-Blue Light

  Tick didn’t move for a long time.

  The forest was dark, only the slightest traces of moonlight seeping through the thick canopy of branches above him, dappled here and there on the ground. He heard nothing but a few insects and the very distant sound of a dog barking. The woods smelled fresh and pungent, the scent of the pine trees closest to him by far the strongest. It made him think of Christmas.

  Which made him think of his family, which pulled at his heart like a huge rock had been tied to it and dropped to his stomach. He ached for them, and he didn’t know how he could survive if they’d been hurt or killed. For now, not knowing anything for certain, his mind only allowed him to hold onto hope. He didn’t let anything too dark settle on his thoughts. They could be alive. There were a million possibilities for such a thing, and he held onto that.

  He had to get going. He had to figure out where he’d been sent. Had he actually winked himself? That seemed the only logical explanation, but the instant he’d arrived in the forest, the flames of Chi’karda had burned out, leaving him empty. He was cold, and not just because the air in the forest was cool and wetly crisp, as if a storm might be coming. He also felt the chill of fear.

  He stood up and turned in a slow circle, scanning the woods. He saw only trees, some thin, some thick, all of them crowded one after the other until they faded into obscure shadows. He closed his eyes to focus, but again, he heard only the insects and that frantic dog, still in the distance. Unless some super spy was nearby, watching him in silence, he was alone.

  What had happened? His experience with winking kept the situation from being completely bizarre, but had he really done it to himself? Or had it been Sally back at headquarters? He doubted that since no one else came with him; also, it would have made much more sense to wink him to Master George’s compound in the Bermuda Triangle, not to the middle of the woods.

  A lot of questions, no answers, and it was cold. He shivered, rubbed his arms, and told himself once again that he needed to get going. But the worry that he’d go in the wrong direction kept his feet glued to the forest floor.

  Go, he thought. Just go. That way.

  He stepped forward, but stopped when the sound of crunching ground cover startled him. He took another quick look around him. Nothing.

  Shaking off his childish worries, he walked forward resolutely, moving aside tree branches and stomping down weeds. The crick-crash with every step filled the air with echoes until it almost seemed like someone was following him. He realized he was acting a little ridiculous and feeling way too paranoid. Refusing to slow again for another look, he kept going through the trees.

  He’d just squeezed through two big oaks when he definitely heard something behind him: a quick but loud moan, as if some giant had awakened with a stomachache. Sucking in a breath, Tick spun around, throwing his arms out to catch his balance on the thick trees. There’d been an odd glimmer of light behind him, he was certain. But it disappeared the instant he saw it.

  Silence returned, thicker than before. The moan must have spooked the insects, because they’d quieted as well. Tick felt a sudden burst of claustrophobia, there in the darkness with the trees pressing in around him.

  Childish or not, he was officially scared. That stifled groan had sounded otherworldly, like a…

  Well, like a ghost.

  He turned and ran, not taking the time to be careful anymore. Branches slapped his face, and twigs and leaves scratched his skin. He didn’t stop, dodging the obstacles as best he could.

  Ooooooohhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn…

  There it was again-the low moan. It was still behind him, but this time it lasted much longer. A flicker of terror, like icy water shooting up his throat, made him cough and wheeze. He wanted to look back. Every instinct screamed for him to look back, but he knew he’d have to slow down to do that, or he’d run right smack into a tree. Weaving, dodging, ducking, he ran on.

  A flash of silvery light gleamed from behind him, illuminating the woods. Unable to fight the urge to look, Tick stopped, put his hand against a pine tree, and turned around. Once again the strange glow vanished as soon as he saw it, but he’d caught a glimpse of wispy brilliance, as if streamers of fog had magically transformed into a cloud of almost blue light.

  Ooooooohhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn…

  The sound came again, along with another few flashes of the silver, misty beams. There was something oddly metallic about the light, making Tick think of aluminum or steel. And then it was gone.

  Tick turned and ran again, swearing to himself he wouldn’t stop again until he found a person, a building, something. A policeman or a ghost hunter would be great.

  Because of the darkness, he had no idea he was at the edge of the forest until he broke through the last line of trees. A sharp but short hill sloped up, and he stumbled and fell before he could slow down. His face smacked into a clod of dirt. He spit the gritty stuff out of his mouth as he scrambled with his hands and feet to move up the hill.

  He reached the top, pumping his legs and flailing his arms until he found his balance and could run again. His feet slapped pavement-a road. It took another few seconds for Tick to realize where he’d been sent. Or where he had sent himself. A mixture of relief and confusion consumed him, almost making him stop again.

  But he didn’t stop; he didn’t even slow down. He knew exactly where to go, and a fresh surge of adrenaline lifted his energy and spirits.

  He was in Deer Park, Washington, on the road leading to his neighborhood, a path he’d walked thousands of times in his life. The why and how ceased to matter in his mind. Something creepy was behind him, and his house was in front of him.

  He ran for home.

  As Tick rounded his mailbox and shot up the driveway, he couldn’t help but feel a trace of deja vu. His thoughts went back to his very first wink, when he’d gone to the cemetery as instructed and performed the strange initiation ritual he’d had to figure out from the twelve clues sent to him by Master George.

  When he’d winked that night and felt that cool tingle down the back of his neck, the first of many more to come, he thought it hadn’t worked. Sullen and heartbroken, he’d headed for home only to discover he’d been sent to an alternate Reality, one in which a strange, nasty old man lived in Tick’s house.

  What if that old man was there again? Or another one?

  What if Tick had been winked to another Reality, and his Alterant was in the house, sleeping or sitting at the computer or about to come outside? Though he’d been totally unconscious in the Fourth Reality, Sofia and Paul had told him about what happened when the two versions of Reginald Chu met. There had been an earthquake, a wave of air, and the Reginald from the Fourth had disappeared, gone to some place Master George called the Nonex.

  What if that happened to Tick when he opened the door?

  Then, despite the darkness, he noticed the crashed garage door from when the water creatures had attacked his parents. His doubts washed away, and he ran up to the bushes lining the house and dropped to his knees, searching for the fake rock that contained a spare key. The key had been missing before when he’d unknowingly been winked to an alternate reality. This time he found it, and, pulling the key from the rock, he ran up the porch steps and unlocked t
he front door. He went inside and flicked the light switch in the hallway. Nothing happened.

  He walked into the kitchen, the moonlight seeping through the windows just enough to aid his way. The lights there didn’t work either. He paused and listened for a minute. Nothing, not even the sound of the fridge or the heater.

  So the power was out. Maybe nearby areas had been hit by the same devastation he’d witnessed on the screens back in the Thirteenth.

  Based on what little he could see, he no longer had any doubt this was Reality Prime, and that this was his very own house. Just to make absolutely sure, he made his way back to the stairs and went up them to his room, feeling carefully along the wall in the dark. Every bit of furniture, the blankets on the bed, the wall decorations-everything was exactly as he last remembered seeing them.

  He felt a little disappointed. Deep down he’d been hoping to find his family here, even though he knew it was a long shot. Jane had taken them, but then Frazier had said they’d disappeared. Tick had hoped the same thing might have happened to them as what had happened to him. He’d hoped they had been sent back home too.

  Bad thoughts drifted through his mind, images of all the terrible things their vanishing from Jane’s captors might mean.

  To get his mind off it, he knelt down on the floor and reached under his mattress. After feeling about, he found what he’d been looking for and pulled it out, then sat on the bed. Though he couldn’t see it very well in the pale light coming through the window, he knew every detail of the object anyway. His Journal of Curious Letters.

  Yes. Unless this was a Reality that had split from Prime very recently, he at least knew he was in the right place. But what in the world was he supposed to do now?

  He set the book on the table by his bed and kicked up his legs onto the bed, not bothering to take off his shoes. He lay back onto his pillow, hands clasped behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. Odd-shaped shadows from the moonlight slanted from corner to corner, dark and menacing. He closed his eyes.

  Sleep. Could he really sleep despite all the terrible things going on that very instant? He didn’t know, but he needed it for sure. Surprising himself, he relaxed, feeling the first trickles of sleep edge his mind.

  A minute passed. Two. The darkness was deep. No sound except a slight breeze pushing branches against the outside of the house. Something smelled good, like the fresh scent of laundry detergent and dryer sheets. All of it seemed to pull him down into the bed, as comfortable as he ever remembered being. Almost feeling guilty, he sank into the welcome pool of slumber.

  Ooooooohhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn…

  This time the sound came from the hallway right outside his room, a miserably haunted, ghostly moan. Tick shot up in bed, his feet swinging to the floor. A silver-blue light glowed through the space under the door.

  So much for sleep.

  Chapter 26

  Many Faces

  He heard the sound again. Then again. And again. Each time it was only a few seconds apart. The moan had such a creepy, deathly feel to it that prickles of goose bumps shot up all over his body, and he felt like every hair on his head reached for the ceiling. This was a new kind of terror-something very different from the constant worry of being killed or hurt, something he’d almost become accustomed to.

  No, this was like a real-life ghost story. He was in a horror movie.

  He quietly stood up and walked over to the window, carefully stepping on the non-creaking spots of his bedroom floor. He looked through the glass, wondering if he’d have the courage to jump out. The moon cast its pale glow on the yard outside, making the trees look dark blue and creating shadows in which he could imagine every monster from his every nightmare hiding, waiting.

  Ooooooohhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn…

  Tick turned around to face the door. His mind felt hollowed out. How had it come to this? An hour ago he’d been in the middle of a desert in the Thirteenth Reality, watching Mistress Jane destroy an entire world. Now he was back in his house, in the dark, staring at a sheet of silver-blue light panning across his floor. He saw that it wavered with flashes and glimmers of shadow as though the source of the light was a gigantic TV out in the hallway, showing an old black-and-white film.

  He didn’t want to face whatever was out there. He turned back to the window and unlatched the lock. After pulling up the window, he unhooked the screen. He stuck his head out to look at the ground twenty feet below. If he could land in that clump of bushes…

  Behind him, the moan took on a different pitch, stuttered. Then something sounded almost like a cough, followed by an odd crackle. Tick couldn’t help but look back at this new noise.

  Tendrils of bright white electricity danced around the doorknob, sparking and zigzagging like small bolts of lightning. It had a charged sound to it, like the monster-making machines in the old Frankenstein movies. There were dozens of small sparks casting flashes of light all over the room.

  Tick was pretty sure he had stopped breathing and didn’t know if he would ever start again.

  The lightning and electricity intensified, spreading out and growing larger until they covered the entire door and the walls around it. A glow of silvery light formed in the middle, growing brighter and brighter until Tick couldn’t see the features of the door or his wallpaper. Just a globe of metallic blue.

  He realized he was in some sort of a trance. He was about to turn away and jump out the window-he’d take the broken leg or arm instead of whatever this was-when the entire display in front of him collapsed into an oblong and upright shape, standing maybe six feet tall. Crackles of electricity still danced along the surface, but they seemed more controlled, swirling around the oval body of light.

  Then, to Tick’s shock, a large face appeared in the middle of the light. It was a young woman, her features shimmering but smooth, and her expression showing a small struggle, as if she was concentrating on a difficult task. But then she was gone, replaced by another face. This time it was a man, his features rigid and angled. Then another face formed-a young boy. Then another one-an old woman, her wrinkles lines of blue against silver. A second later, a younger woman appeared, this one with a round face and eyes.

  More faces appeared, each one lasting only a few moments before another took its place. Boys and girls, men and women, all ages and all races. They all had that same look of intense effort, their eyes focused on Tick, sometimes with their tongue bit between their lips.

  Tick realized he’d relaxed. He was breathing normally and no longer felt the urge to jump out the window. If this thing was a ghost, it didn’t seem very scary. After all the studying and intense reading of science and its inner workings he’d done over the past months, his rational mind had finally taken over. What he saw before him had to be some kind of explainable phenomenon, and his fear had been replaced by excitement to find out what it was.

  The faces continued to change, one after the other, all types and ages. The light cast from the glowing oval shimmered and danced in the room, which had an even more relaxing effect on Tick. He stepped over to his desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down, never taking his eyes off the apparition.

  The morphing faces seemed to relax a bit. When a young Asian man appeared, the lips of his mouth parted. He transformed into an African-American woman, and her lips began to form a word. When the sound finally came out, traveling across the room for a very shocked Tick to hear, it came from a teenage boy. Then a fat man. Then a beautiful woman. Then an old man. Face after face, image after image, their lips remained in sync as the odd phenomenon began to speak. The voice never changed, however; it was deep and charged with energy, laced with crackles of electricity.

  “Atticus Higginbottom,” it said. They said. “We need to have a very serious talk.”

  ~

  Sato had learned a lot about Tick’s sister. There wasn’t much else to do when you were stuck in a place that stretched to infinity in every direction with nothing to see but colored marble squares. They’d walked for
awhile as they talked, but eventually had given up, deciding they were just as well off sitting and waiting for something to happen as they were wandering about aimlessly.

  “I’m sure your sister is safe,” he said after a long lull in their conversation. “Somehow those bolts of lightning sent us somewhere else. Here. Maybe other places. Maybe totally random, I don’t know. But the more I think about it, the more I think it has to be something like that. If the lightning had been killing people, it would’ve left behind charred bodies.”

  Lisa nodded absently, staring down at her finger as she traced the lines in the red marble square on which she sat cross-legged. “Charred bodies. Pleasant.”

  “How much do you know about the Realitants?” Sato asked.

  “Most of it,” she replied, looking up at him. She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were still puffy and red. “I tried to keep living my normal life and pretend it was just something for Tick, something I didn’t have to worry about. I have my friends, you know? I have my own life. My mom and dad tried hard not to put all their attention on Tick and his fancy Realitant stuff, but they couldn’t help it. I don’t really blame them. I was happy to kind of ignore it all. Guess I have no choice now.”

  She pulled up her legs to wrap her arms around her knees. “This has something to do with Tick, right? It can’t be a coincidence that I’m his sister and was kidnapped and then sent here by a bolt of lightning.”

  “I’m sure it has something to do with Tick and Mistress Jane,” Sato said. “Our boss had a meeting scheduled with her, and I’m sure it all went to pot right about then.”

  “What’s really happening? I’ve never been in an earthquake before, but I’m pretty sure what I just went through wasn’t normal. Especially with all the lightning.”

  Sato shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re not sure what happened to Jane after the crazy stuff in the Fourth Reality, but if she survived, I’m guessing she’s one ticked-off lady. And she has weird powers. She can do things with Chi’karda. For all we know, she’s messing things up pretty bad out there.”