by Meg Collett
I glanced over at her. She still clenched the railing, her knuckles white, her face whiter. A sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. In her eyes, I read regret and pain and horror.
“They’re going to get in,” Luke said from Ollie’s other side. Hatter stood next to him. Beside Hatter, Thad, Marley, and Mr. Clint watched the desperation unfolding beneath us. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Spurred on by his words, the ’swangs erupted into crackling howls. Punctuated by sharp barks and long whines, their claws scraped down the walls, sending tiny sparks as they fought for purchase. Teeth snapped toward us and at the furred bodies thrashing beside them. They were losing all sense of rank and order, all semblance of calm, in the face of the bombs coming straight toward us.
“I know it’s stupid to even say,” I began in a soft murmur, “but what if we let them in?”
Hatter’s face jerked toward me. “Are you insane?”
“Hey,” Thad growled. “You’re not the person to be calling anyone insane, much less Sunny, so watch it, asshole.”
“She suggested letting them inside!”
“They’re terrified.” I wrapped my arms around my waist, ignoring Hatter’s and Thad’s rising voices. I had to turn my eyes away as the aswangs used one another’s bodies to launch higher up the wall. They crashed back to the ground with dull thumps and sharp cracks of bones.
“Ollie?” Marley asked from farther down the fence. “It’s your call.”
Ollie didn’t answer right away. In the silence, we all knew she was considering it even though the pack had turned on her in favor of Sibyl.
My stomach twisted. I wanted to let them in, I did. It was wrong that any creature should be so afraid for its life. But there were children and students and innocent people in the garage, barricaded against the bombs. Just because the ’swangs weren’t our enemy tonight didn’t mean they might not still kill us if given the chance.
“No,” Ollie said, and my lungs filled with relief even though it had been my idea. Louder, like she was speaking the words down to the aswangs, she said, “For A.J. and Squeak, no. They can die out there with their queen.”
More howls erupted on the ground, and the scrambling intensified. Ollie stared down at it before turning on her heel and heading back into the rook’s nest. Over her shoulder, she called, “We should get downstairs. We’re next.”
We went in through the surface garage door leading down to the subterranean levels. The road slanted steeply down, narrow and twisting, the only light coming from LED sconces set into the ceiling. We’d barely gotten the rolling garage door closed behind us when we heard the high-pitched scream of the planes overhead.
“Get down!” Ollie shouted into the garage.
At the center of the sprawling, low-ceiling space, the lab kids and students sat. Along the perimeter of their circle, the professors and hunters closed in around them with the youngest at the center. At the edge, Zero lay on a low-slung cot, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Everyone ducked, covering their arms with their heads as we ran toward them.
A boom reverberated overhead.
I froze, trapped in that space where I only existed to wait for the moment when the explosion came.
But there was only silence.
“Sunny!” Hatter yelled, suddenly at my side. He hooked his arm around my waist and dragged me down. “Get down!”
He pushed me against the paved floor of the garage, his body covering mine, his hand pressing my cheek against the grit of the ground. His breath poured in a hot wave down my neck. I thought he was trembling on top of me, but then I realized it wasn’t Hatter.
It was the ground beneath us.
My ears popped. I thought I screamed as the pressure threatened to burst my heart. Hatter clenched me tighter while the world unstitched itself around us.
The lights went out.
I went out.
When I came to again, Hatter sat beside me, blood pouring from the side of his face. Bits of the ceiling rained down around us in soft patters of dust and plaster and rock. A few feet away, someone groaned. I blinked to clear my vision of white spots.
But the garage had gone dark anyway.
“Is everyone—” I coughed, tasting blood in my mouth. “Is everyone all right?”
No one responded, but someone was crying. Someone else coughed. A groan echoed from somewhere to my right.
The emergency generator kicked on, sparking a few lights to life and casting the room in a dim, green glow.
I stood shakily. When I could finally see through the settling dust, I gasped.
Part of the garage’s ceiling had caved in, narrowly missing the circle of students and turning an SUV into a flattened pancake. Other cars around us had been pushed askew in the blast. Our pile of supplies had been blown and scattered. Lights hung in dangling cords, swinging back and forth, dark and useless.
Someone whimpered.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked again. “Is anyone trapped? Can we take a headcount?”
“On it,” Marley said from the other side of the circle of kids. In the eerie half-light, I couldn’t see her face.
While the professors and hunters checked the students, I turned to my friends. Zero’s cot was undisturbed, and her eyes were still closed. Thad leaned against a nearby car with his hand on his head. Luke had his arms around Ollie, who sat on the ground with her head in her hands. My stomach flipped.
“Ollie?” I squatted beside her. “What’s wrong?”
Luke’s eyes met mine. A vein in his neck pulsed as rapidly as a rabbit running for its life.
“I’m fine,” Ollie whispered.
“She keeps saying that,” he growled.
“I’m just dizzy, is all.” She pushed against Luke’s tight hold around her. He gave her some space. She looked up and took a deep breath. In the emergency lighting, I spotted tears in her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” I reached for her.
She shifted away, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
I barely heard her whispered words. “What?”
“I’m just … so sorry. I’m going to try, but I’m scared I won’t be enough.”
Luke frowned. He was looking at me again, like I might have the answers to the riddle of Ollie. But I was only her best friend, and not even I knew this one.
“Did you hit your head?” I asked slowly, crouching lower to check her pupils.
“I’m sorry if I can’t. I want to think it’s possible, but in case it’s not, I’m sorry.”
She stared solidly at me. Her pupils were fine. No blood covered her face. If anything, she didn’t even look like she’d been touched by the blast or the dust.
“What are you sorry for?”
She sniffed, her face fracturing into an expression of agony. She just shook her head.
A chill swept down my spine. “You’re scaring me.”
“Sunny—”
Metal screeched near the garage door. It rattled and banged, too rhythmic to be the wind. Everyone fell silent. We all froze.
The telltale scrape of claws filled the air.
“The door,” I whispered, horror dawning. “They’re coming in through the garage door.”
Ollie jumped to her feet, followed by Luke. Hatter stood next to us with Thad on his other side. The other professors and hunters turned to face the darkened direction of the door. The lights were too dim, too scant. We wouldn’t even see them coming until it was too late.
“What’s that noise?” a lab kid asked. His voice was faint and trembling, thick with tears. An older student soothed him with low murmurs.
“The blast must have damaged it,” Ollie said, leaving the other professors to calm the younger kids. She pulled out her whip and silver knuckles from the band of her jeans.
“Take this,” Marley said, appearing beside us. She offered Luke and Hatter large assault rifles with extended clips from the cache we’d stocked earlier. “The students are fine. No
one is injured.”
Ollie nodded grimly.
I slid a knife free from my belt. The blade was cool on my fingertips. Against the metal, I felt my heartbeat echo in my thumb. I counted the beats just to calm myself.
One.
Two.
“We need to circle behind them and fight in the open. We don’t stand a chance if they flood the garage,” Thad said.
“I hate to say it,” Luke added, “but Thad’s right.”
Three.
“Will the door last long enough for us to circle around?” Ollie asked.
Four.
“It’s reinforced aluminum,” Hatter said. He cocked his gun, the sound like the first shots fired. “It can hold for a bit.”
Five.
Six.
“I can help.” Marley flipped off the safety on her shotgun. She pumped it, keeping the barrel pointed up at the ceiling.
“No,” Ollie said, shaking her head. The Ollie who’d sat on the ground, nearly in tears, apologizing to me had disappeared. In her place stood a new Ollie, one resolved and determined. There would be no more apologizing. “You’re going up to the offices. Remember?”
Luke shot her a frown. “Why would she go there? The school is likely in rubble above us.”
Seven.
“No time to explain.” Ollie waved her hand, but I didn’t trust the pointed look she exchanged with Marley. Apparently neither did Luke, but he went on barking orders.
Eight.
“We’ll take the stairs and loop around, leaving some hunters on the steps. Hatter,” Luke said, turning to his best friend. His eyes flicked to Hatter’s missing arm before landing on his face. “If that garage door doesn’t hold, you kill anything that comes inside, got it? Nothing touches those kids.”
Nine.
It was a command. Brother to brother. Warrior to warrior.
Even with just one arm and a misbalanced gun, Hatter was all that stood between Fear University’s future and nearly two hundred terrified aswangs.
Ten.
“I’ll stay with him,” I said, my decision made.
Luke nodded.
After everyone darted off toward the steps, Ollie remained for a beat. She stared at me, her mouth partially open like she wanted to say something. I prayed she didn’t. She would only scare me. And standing with Hatter, listening to the garage door rattle and shake, I couldn’t handle any more fear.
Finally, she left.
I heaved a sigh of relief.
“Let’s get the kids in as many cars as we can,” Hatter said, coming up beside me.
“Good idea—”
The door banged, the metal bending with a maniac’s screech. Hatter and I both flinched and whirled toward the sound. Even in the dim emergency lighting, I could see the door rattle beneath the onslaught.
“The others will get out there soon and distract them,” Hatter said. “But we should hurry.”
I nodded, too afraid of how my voice would sound if I spoke.
The older students were doing a solid job of keeping the lab kids calm, though I still made out sniffling cries in the dark. As we approached, the fifth-years and braver fourth-years stood.
“We can fight,” Viv said, lifting her chin though her hands trembled.
I was already opening my mouth to accept her offer when Hatter said, “No. You get in the cars with the kids.”
His words surprised both Viv and me.
“But—” Viv started.
“No, Viv,” Hatter snapped, sharp enough that I flinched again. “Take all the weapons you can and get the kids in the cars. Then get yourself in a car. I mean it.”
Viv paled, but she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Make sure you keep Zero and Sam separated. They can’t be in the same car, okay?” I whispered.
Viv dipped her chin. “I’ll make sure they’re kept apart.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Hurry.”
She spun to herd everyone into a car and lock them up tight. My stomach sank when I understood what Hatter was doing.
“You think they’re getting in,” I whispered, watching the lab kids scramble into a nearby van. It squeaked on its shocks as their weight shifted inside. Three fifth-years climbed in before Viv slammed the door shut, locking it.
“That door won’t hold long enough.”
“Then why say it would?” My voice was rising with fear. I couldn’t help it. The urge to run to the lab and grab a syringe of saliva made me dizzy. “Why send the others up there?”
He watched the last of the kids pile into the cars with a drawn face. “Because they’re the only shot those kids have.”
He didn’t say anything about us.
I pulled out a second knife.
“Hatter,” I whispered, my voice trembling. It pulled his attention to me. His two-toned eyes fell on me, and his gaze softened. “I’m sorry about us. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want.”
His lips flicked into a sideways grin that was almost—almost—like his old smiles from before. But his eyes were too sad. His face too hollow.
He leaned down. His gun settled cold and hard against my side as he pressed his lips to mine.
It was a short kiss. A tender one. He’d barely brushed his lips against mine before he pulled back. His breath fell in a warm, minty wash across my lips as he said, “Don’t ever apologize for being who you are, Sunshine. You’re the best damn thing in this world.”
My heart clenched crushingly tight. I’d opened my mouth to either kiss him again or beg him to get into a car when the garage door shuddered for the last time.
It tore open on its hinges with a deafening scream. The night breeze whooshed in, along with slivers of moonlight and the clattering scrape of nails on pavement.
I smelled them, the aswangs. They stank of wet dog and terror.
They ran straight for us.
Hatter’s gun blasted beside me, peppering the horde of bodies with bullets covered in wolf’s bane. The aswangs yelped in cacophonous cries and threw themselves out of the line of fire, knocking into each other and sending bodies rolling across the garage floor.
Outside, the others had arrived. Their guns fired with resolute cracks. Some of the aswangs rushing the garage door doubled back to fight outside the narrow confines of the garage.
Hatter and I had advanced toward the garage door without losing ground. We pushed them back, funneling them outside where Ollie and the others could pick them off as they scrambled up the ramp.
I threw knife after knife until I reached for my belt and found none left. Hatter fired sporadically into the last few remaining aswangs to save his bullets. The ’swangs parted, fell back, and revealed a lithe, almost silver ’swang with sharp black eyes and snarling lips.
Sibyl.
Unlike the rest of her pack, she didn’t retreat. She cocked her head at me in recognition and, I think, smiled. I shivered.
“Shoot her,” I told Hatter, backing away without any knives to throw.
He lifted his gun and pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked.
Sibyl let out a huff of air like a laugh and prowled closer, her head low, her eyes bright as she stared at my throat.
“Hatter?”
He reached for his belt to pull out another loaded clip and came up empty. “Fuck,” he hissed, his focus locked on Sibyl.
We backed away together, leaving behind the moonlit entrance and the mangled garage door. Beyond, the others were still fighting. There would be no shouting for help, even if they could hear us above the clamor of battle.
“Get to a car,” Hatter said quietly as if Sibyl couldn’t hear.
“No.”
“Sunny,” he growled in warning.
“I’m not leaving you.”
You need me, I thought. And we’re going to need each other for this fight.
A stream of curse words poured from his lips. He pulled a serrated carving knife from his vest. I retrieved my own defense knife. I couldn’t help
feeling like they weren’t enough. My blade trembled as I held it up.
Bite me, I thought, sending the message to Sibyl’s brain even though the effort was useless. I wasn’t Ollie. I couldn’t mentally communicate with the ’swangs. Maybe it was for the best. At least now, Sibyl could only smell my fear; she couldn’t hear it in my voice.
Couldn’t hear the desperation I felt for a shot of saliva. Of fearlessness.
Sibyl sprang forward. Hatter moved toward her with a grunt of effort, sliding his body between her and me, so that when she was close enough to attack, she hit him first. He fell back into me. I hit the ground with teeth-snapping force. My knife clattered across the pavement.
Before I could twist around to scrabble after it, I saw Hatter slicing through Sibyl’s fur. I saw her teeth sink into his shoulder, his wounded shoulder. And I saw them fall to the ground. I turned away and crab-crawled across the floor, aiming for the silver glint in the darkness.
Behind me, I heard the unmistakable sound of flesh ripping.
The silver glint disappeared. I looked up, still on my hands and knees.
Peyton stood with my knife in his too-tiny hands. His eyes were red from crying, and snot poured from his nose.
“Here,” he whispered, offering me the blade.
I stood and grabbed it from him. “Get back to the car! Hurry!”
“But Mr. Hatter …” Peyton’s eyes darted over my shoulder, and his eyes stretched wide.
It was the only warning I had before a weight crashed into my back.
Peyton screamed.
I lost my grip on the knife, and when I fell facedown, a searing heat punctured my shoulder, stabbing hot and blinding white. My temple cracked off the ground, and everything went black.
It could have been hours or seconds that I was out, but the weight on top of me suddenly left. Breath rushed back into my lungs. I touched my shoulder and found the knife buried hilt-deep just beneath my clavicle. It had missed my heart by inches.
I glanced back at the sound of Sibyl’s howling cry. It cut off midstream, the silence crackling when Hatter buried his knife in the supple underside of her jaw. He drew the blade out and stabbed again. Then again. When he released his hold on her, her body hit the ground, and in the darkness, I saw him sag down in relief. He sat with his hands on his knees, catching his breath, his head hanging, a piece of hair falling forward.
