by Natasha Deen
The mic screeched and put Principal Larry on pause. Another screech.
Crap. Too late.
Static hissed through the speakers, The Voice began to weep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The lights flickered. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Around me, people murmured. No fear. Just confusion. A few of them pulled out their phones and started recording.
Through the strobe lighting, I tracked Craig, Serge, and Kent. Craig went into ferrier form, wrapped his wings around Craig and Serge, and disappeared. I pulled out my cell and texted Nancy and Dad an SOS.
Principal Larry waved his hands. “If we could all stay—”
The gym plunged into darkness and confusion gave way to fear.
“If we could all stay calm!” he yelled.
No one was listening. Least of all me. I sent the message, tucked the phone in my back pocket. Did a quick eye-contact vibe-thing with Nell, hoped she’d feel it in the pitch black. Going by my memory of where everyone had been before the lights went off, I grabbed her hand and moved us toward the exit.
Light from camera phones lit up the dark interior, bobbed and weaved like fireflies.
“People—”
The lights snapped back on.
“PLEASE!” The last part of the principal’s command, caught by the now-powered mic, boomed in the gym and made the speakers screech.
There was awkward laughter, shuffling as folks found their seats.
“Now.” Principal Larry adjusted his tie, craned his neck as he straightened his collar. “As I was saying—”
The lights brightened, dimmed. Throbbed.
“What are the odds this is a short-circuit?” Nell asked.
“What are the odds of you swearing an oath for a life of celibacy?”
“That bad, huh?”
“If we could all focus—”
Nell snorted at the principal’s instructions, then turned back to watching the humming lights. “Is this Kent or Serge, or the two—”
“It’s The Family. There must have been a leftover soul and it latched onto Kent.”
“What about the worm—”
“He thought it was the flu. The rest of The Family honed in on them.”
“So get Kent out of here.”
“That’s been done,” I said, “Serge too, as a precaution.”
“Then why the freaky light show?”
I kept pushing through the crowd, moving for the exit. “Craig said time and space aren’t the same on the other side. Maybe there’s a delay in communication and The Family still thinks Kent’s here.”
“Great,” she muttered. “You’d think with that many souls, they’d have a better honing device.”
“The Voice is here, too.”
“Doubly great.”
The principal stepped back from the mic, powered it down, and shut off the speaker.
A second later, the microphone surged to life with a squeal and static poured through the speaker.
Maggie, oh, Maggie.
The crowd went silent. They couldn’t hear The Voice, but they could see the light show. There was no sound, save the pulsating hum of the lights as they brightened and dimmed, no sound except the shallow, frightened breaths of those around me, no sound but the beating of my heart.
“Find Dad and Nancy,” I told Nell. “Get the crowd out.”
“Maggie, oh, Maggie.”
“Get them out, now.”
The lights flared, bright and brighter still, and Nell moved into action. So did the rest of my family.
“People,” Nancy’s voice boomed with authority and confidence. She strode to the front of the gym. “This section—” She swept her hand from the middle of the gym to the left. “Exit through the doors on your right. The rest of you, exit through the left doors. People in the front row, move out. Now!”
He’s coming, Maggie. He’s coming for you.
The crowd may have ignored the principal, but no one questioned Nancy. As though they had practised the exit drill before, people turned to their respective sides, waited for those in front of them to leave the bleachers.
“Maggie. He’s coming for you—”
“Faster, people!” Nancy glanced up at the lights.
I didn’t know what the wattage of the bulbs was, but the gym was five times brighter than normal and the luminosity was increasing. As was the heat. I wiped the sweat from my eyes, thankful as Dad directed one group through one exit, Nell the other, and Nancy supervised.
“Maggie, oh, Maggie. He’s coming, Maggie. He’s coming for you—”
I fought off the panic, pushed forward to the doors.
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Nancy spun her hand like a windmill. “Pretend your PVRs are broken!”
The Voice screamed.
The lights exploded and the gym plunged into darkness.
There was a moment of shocked silence, punctuated by sudden screaming. Mothers and fathers cried out their children’s names. In the distance, I heard a faint buzzing. The static pull of my hair on my arms and the back of my neck told me what was coming.
The legion came through the ceiling in a red cloud. It wasn’t just its shape that was different this time, though I found the cloud way creepier than the centipede. There was something about it…the specks of gold highlighted by its internal lightning that said this was a bad development, that somehow The Family had evolved and morphed into something that could affect the living. But whether that was knowledge from a previous life or instinct, I didn’t know. And right now, I had other things to focus on than its evolution. The legion’s evil energy lit up the gym in a crimson glow. Moving one way then the other, it tried to hone on Serge and Kent.
When it couldn’t find them, it spread out, thin and rectangular and rained itself on the remaining people in the gym.
Oh, crap.
They coughed, blinked as the specks of the souls was absorbed into their bodies and turned their flesh luminescent.
I moved in the direction of the fire exit and used the demonic light cast by the infected to see if anyone I cared about was still around. Nancy was still here, directing people to stay calm and exit in an orderly fashion. Dad and Nell were at separate entrances, making sure everyone got out safely.
Craig, Kent, and Serge were gone and that meant any of the specks of the legion hitchhiking in people’s bodies wouldn’t be able to find them. Which meant I could turn my attention back to the fog. Getting it to pool together into one mass.
And deal with it.
Only, I hadn’t a clue how to handle it.
Think. Think. Think.
I had a cell phone. Somehow, I didn’t think I’d be able to scare the fog with my overage charge or monthly fees.
Think, Maggie, think! Your boyfriend and best friend are off, protecting a soul from evil from hell and you’re standing around like a moron.
I glanced at the panicked crowd.
The frenzied crowd.
Bodies pushed against bodies as they turned from fighting for the exit to fighting with each other. The Family’s infection made them more violent and angry.
The Vancouver riots were going to be nothing compared to the injuries and assaults if these people didn’t get into open space, soon.
C’mon, c’mon. I didn’t want to be one of those stupid girls who needed to be rescued all the time. But I couldn’t think of how to save them.
Craig had said once that my destiny was to be a guardian, a watcher of worlds. I wasn’t even doing a passable job watching over a crowd. How was I going to solve this?
Evil versus good.
Craig had cleansed me with heat.
Setting fire to the gym was probably out of the question.
Plus it wasn’t just heat, it had been good heat. Clean energy.
<
br /> And that told me exactly how to save them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I called Serge to me.
“I thought you didn’t want me near this,” he said when he appeared.
“I know, it’s risky but the fog is infecting the living. I think we have a way to save the people.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
“Give me a hug.”
Serge’s jaw went slack. “You’re kidding.”
“No. Hug me.”
“Isn’t this the wrong time for a comforting—?”
“Serge! When you and I hugged that time, we gave off energy, remember?”
“Okay.” He dragged out the word like he was wondering if I’d suffered some kind of head injury.
“The Family is using their collective energy to become more than they are and to evolve into something that can influence the crowd.”
“I noticed.”
“So why can’t we do the same? You and I put off energy once when we hugged and it was powerful enough for Dad to see—”
“Oh, yeah! Okay, come on. Hold me tight.” He stepped close to me, pulled me into his arms, and hugged me hard.
Which felt nice but I could still hear the crowd wailing and pounding on each other.
“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said into my hair.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Should I hug harder?” He suited action to words.
And I was in line to break my ribs. “I can’t breathe.”
“Oops, sorry.” He loosened his grip and stepped back. “What are we doing wrong?”
“I don’t know. It was the morning after you exploded—”
“Please don’t tell me I have to explode again—”
“No—”
“Thank God.”
“But…” I closed my eyes, thought hard and fast. “The morning after, we had a talk. That’s when I forgave you for all the horrible stuff you’d done and you forgave yourself—”
“Yeah.”
“We glowed. That’s why there was an energy between us. Because of the emotion behind the action,” I said.
“Oh. Oh! Okay, so if I remember how I felt that day and then, when we hug, it should work?”
“Something like that.”
He stepped close.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled in close. Inhaled the freshly fallen rain scent of him. “I’d spent so much time being mad at you. Then all of a sudden, I saw what your life must have really been like, and I felt so bad. So bad for you that you’d lived it. So bad for me that I hadn’t been smart enough to see what was really going on—”
“That wasn’t on you, Mags, that was on me. I should’ve been strong enough to get help. Should’ve reported what was going on. I thought for sure my death meant an eternity in hell, then all of a sudden to get that second chance, and to have it start with your forgiveness—”
He was crying and so was I.
“You’re everything to me, Mags.”
“You too, Serge.”
We held each other tight and I felt the heat, the light. It started where our heartbeats connected and spread out. Still holding him, but opening my eyes, I watched as the white light rose like a beacon, expanded and washed over the crowd. It passed through them, outlined their forms in a golden yellow, then faded to dark.
Nell picked me up at the parking lot. I climbed into an interior warmed by both the vent and the cup of Tin Shack coffee-hot chocolate sitting in the cup holder reserved for me.
“Should we really be doing this?” I asked. “I just defeated an ancient evil less than an hour ago.”
“Calm down. You didn’t defeat an ancient evil. You delayed a bunch of loser ghosts.”
“Thanks. So nice to have you to put my life in perspective.”
“Sorry,” she sighed and took my hand. “I can’t stand silently by with Rori, anymore.”
I laughed. “Nell, you weren’t standing silently by before. And if you’re going to get vocal now, then I’m super afraid for the Piersons.”
“You should be. They should be, too. How stupid are adults?” Nell scowled at the steering wheel as she pulled out of the lot.
“Is that a trick question?” I belted in and freed the cup from its holder. “Because if you’re asking it seriously, we may be here awhile.”
“Huh. Ain’t that the truth. Mom and Dad say to stay out of it, but there’s a kid involved. How do you not step in?” She put the car in gear and eased onto the slippery road.
“I don’t think they’re worried about you stepping in, as much as they’re worried about what you’re stepping into.”
“It’s a kid, Maggie. That should be the beginning, middle, and end of the story.”
“I don’t disagree—but are you sure you’re the one that needs to do something?”
“I have to. No one else is listening.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound right. Your folks—”
She laughed. “They’re good people, Mags, but I’m not tight with them the way you are with your dad.” She gave me a quick glance then turned back to the road. “You guys have a special relationship. He looks at you like you’re an equal”—She shrugged—“for the most part, at least. My parents look at me like they’re stunned I no longer need diapers. I’ve tried to talk to them but I’m getting a lot of pats on the head and ‘there, there, dear.’”
I took the hard set of her mouth and jaw. “—But there has to be a better way than storming in and…what exactly are we doing?”
“Going to the Piersons.”
“Yeah, I know. But what’s your grand plan after we get there.”
“Channel The Family and bring some Old Testament justice on their—”
“That’s not funny.” I glanced around, as though the legion could be called by us speaking its name. “Don’t even joke about it.”
She took her foot off the accelerator and sighed. “I don’t know what I want to do, other that get Rori away from them. Even for one night.”
“Maybe Nancy can step in and—”
“I talked to her but she said if she stepped in and pulled Rori out—even for a night—it could have detrimental consequences because Rori would be flagged in the system. Plus, she’s not in a dangerous situation. There’s no reason for them to take her out of her home.”
“You were asking Nancy to step in as town sheriff?”
“I thought some law and order might serve to smarten them up. And if that failed, Nancy could give them that look she gets when people are wearing on her patience—you’ve seen that look—”
“I have nightmares about that look.”
“—exactly. But she said no.”
“Maybe to stepping in as a cop, but we both know Nancy, no way is she letting Rori suffer through in silence.” I squeezed Nell’s shoulder. “And I know your mom and dad. They’ll do something.”
“But when?” she cried. “When are they going to step in for this kid?” She pulled the car to the shoulder and put it in park. Her hand gripped the top of the wheel and she bowed her head over the steering column as though she was about to offer up a prayer. “I see what’s going on, I hear them fighting and Rori crying, and I lie awake at night, thinking about how much pain he must be in, how scared and terrified he must be, and all I can think of is, ‘I’ve got to do something. I’ve got to help before it’s too late.’”
I let silence speak for a little while. Then I unbuckled my belt, scooted as close to her as I could, given the console, and rubbed her back. “You said ‘he.’ This isn’t just about Rori, is it?”
Crying, her forehead on the wheel, she shook her head. “I think about Serge all the time.” Her words were muffled but audible. “All the abuse and beatings, and I feel so bad, so horrible.” She lifted her head
and looked at me, the tears formed a wet layer on her cheeks. “He’s such a good guy, Maggie. He’s such a nice guy. And he’s been so sweet to you and protective.” The tears overtook her and she struggled to get the words out. “I was horrible to him in life. Rude and mean and cutting. And when I think of all the times I was so proud of myself for taking him out at the knees, all the joy I got when his face flushed with embarrassment or shame—”
A light glowed from the back and Serge appeared in the middle seat. “Hey, Mags, were you calling, ’cause—”
Don’t text anything.
His eyes locked on Nell. What’s going—? Why’s she crying?
I’m sorry. I was connecting with what she said and it must have acted like a beacon and brought you here.
His eyebrows pulled together. What’s she talking—
“Every time I think about Rori crying, I see him, and I feel like such a bad person,” Nell said.
“You’re not.” I rubbed in between her shoulder blades. “You’re not.”
Serge scooted forward, his face etched in worry.
“There’s so much guilt I carry,” she continued. “And no matter what I do, I feel like I can’t get rid of it.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty—”
“Of course I should! We all should! He was talking to us every day about what was going on at home—”
Is this about Kent? asked Serge. Did she find out something bad?
“—and none of us was listening because we couldn’t understand his language.”
“Nell—”
“It was violent and brutal.” She reached out, grabbed my hand in an awkward, painful grip. “But what else could it have been? What other language did Serge know except one that was violent and brutal?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Serge’s face go slack with surprise.
She’s crying over me? Crying for me?
“It was a hard life he led,” I told her, “and I feel the guilt—we all feel the guilt. But life isn’t about making the right decisions. It’s about being right with the decisions you make. Did the town step wrong with Serge? Yes. Did Serge step wrong with the town? Double yes.”
