“What’s going on?” Zoey whispered. Tristan shrugged.
Finally, the voices calmed. One of the Chacras raised his spear and pointed it towards the city.
“You come with us. Leave the dead one. Cannot make trade with dead one—”
“What?” Zoey stepped forward. “He’s not dead, you overgrown chipmunk. He’s hurt.”
She stood protectively in front of Simon. “I’m not going anywhere without my friend.”
The Chacras raised their spears at Zoey. “He old. He dead. You do what we say.”
Zoey knocked the spear out of her face.
“I don’t think so. You’ll have to kill me,” she growled. “He’s just hurt . . . he’s unconscious.”
If they tried to hurt Simon she swore would tear them apart with her bare hands. Well, at least she hoped she could.
The Chacras raised their weapons at her and yelled angrily.
One of them yelled something that seemed to calm the others down a little, although they still shifted nervously and held their tiny fingers on the triggers of their big guns.
Tristan stepped carefully over to Zoey.
“Zoey, we can’t shut the portals if we’re dead. You’re upsetting them, and in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot more of them than us.”
Zoey knew Tristan was right, but she felt overly protective of Simon because he was injured and because he was an old man.
“You worth more living. No dead, no dead,” said the Chacras. It shook its head and lifted up three fingers. Zoey noticed that its skin was a light yellowish color.
“We make three trade. You take friend with you. Three trade. We make trade in city. You come now.” He shoved his spear at Zoey.
“I swear I’m going to break that spear over his head—”
“Zoey,” warned Tristan. “Let’s do what they say. We need to get to the city anyway. Think of them as our guides.”
“Fine. Okay. We’ll go with you.” She waited for Tristan to lift Simon up on his shoulders and then followed the Chacras.
The Chacras moved fast across the red dunes. They looked more like they were gliding than walking. And when Zoey glanced down, she noticed that the only footprints in the sand were hers and Tristan’s.
Every now and then a Chacras would hit Zoey or Tristan with the blunt edge of a weapon. “Faster. You move faster.”
“Okay, okay,” hissed Zoey.
The lack of oxygen and food was taking its toll. Zoey was beginning to struggle just to walk. Sweat poured down into her eyes, and she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling over. Tristan’s face was strained and dirty. She could see that his skin was back to its natural olive color, which meant he was relying on his non-Mysterian strength to carry Simon. She could tell he was tiring, too.
After what seemed to be two hours of walking, all she could see was a wall of red sand. They were in the eye of the blizzard. How did the Chacras know where they were going? She realized that even in their misfortune they had been lucky the mystics had found them. They would never have made it to the city without them.
Then the winds died. Zoey looked up and quickly understood why.
The city was cupped protectively at the bottom of the black mountains, as though two giant hands were holding it up. She had been so preoccupied with trying to breathe and not trip she hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived at the city. The winds didn’t reach them here, and the air seemed easier on her lungs.
The city was huge—the size of a major metropolitan city in her world. But instead of tall glass and metal skyscrapers, the Nexus city was a jumble of mismatched subterranean and above ground dwellings made of clay and the black stones from the mountainside. Thousands, perhaps millions, of mystics scurried around in the labyrinth of streets and passageways.
Two colossal stone statues carved with the body of a lion, the upper torso and head of a woman, and eagle wings guarded the entrance of the city. They looked like Sphinxes. They had ruby eyes, and they frowned to ward off intruders. Zoey was both impressed and frightened by the looks on the women’s faces. Both statues held signs. One was written in a language she couldn’t understand. Although the other was damaged, she could read it. NEXUS CITY.
Zoey had absolutely no idea how many cities there were in the Nexus, but she hoped this was the capital and prayed that Director Martin and her mother were here somewhere.
Zoey heard a whining sound and turned to see a large cow-like creature with long brown hair pulling a wagon. Another Chacras sat in the driver’s chair, and some of Zoey’s abductors went to speak to him.
“You get in,” said the Chacras who spoke English.
He hit the end of his spear against the back of the wagon. “Get in. We go to city. We make trade.”
He ushered Zoey and Tristan into the wagon. She was so grateful for a break from walking that she didn’t need to be told twice.
Tristan laid Simon gently on the floor. Zoey quickly slipped her backpack off and placed it carefully under his head. He was pale, really pale. She tried to wake him up with a little bit of water on his mouth and face, but it didn’t work. She took a small sip to rinse the sand from her mouth and gave the bottle to Tristan.
The English-speaking Chacras and two others jumped into the back of the wagon with their weapons drawn. The rest of the group spread out and disappeared back into desert. Zoey watched until they were swallowed up by the red storm. Apparently they felt that Zoey and Tristan were no longer a threat. Why? Whatever the reason, it made her more nervous.
“Uttik, tuk, tuk,” the driver called as he lashed the reins. The beast whined, and then the wagon shifted and bounced. Zoey sat with her back against one of the side panels, and Tristan sat across from her. The touch of each other’s feet was their only source of comfort. The Chacras still pointed their weapons at them, and Zoey tried to ignore them as she took a closer look at the city.
Like any major metropolitan city, the streets of Nexus were packed with creatures big and small. A dog-like creature with a large human face and tall rabbit ears walked beside a creature with a large green body, long tentacles, wings, and talons. Blue-skinned females with backwards feet shopped in a store tended by a small bear-like, hairless beast with spikes. Behind them coiled a large serpent with horns, and beside it was a hideous monster made of deceased human body parts. It reminded Zoey of Frankenstein. She recognized clay golems from her studies. An enormous black dog with blue flames around its head talked with moth and human hybrids with yellow glowing eyes. Everywhere she looked she saw more mystics she’d never seen or heard of before. The mystics paid no attention to her and Tristan, like they weren’t very interesting. She wondered why that was. Were humans a regular thing in the Nexus?
The deeper they ventured into the city, the deeper her sense of dread.
Was her mother here? This city was enormous. How would she ever find her? It would take years to go through every building. She could see that Tristan was thinking the same thing. The city was just too big, and they were running out of time . . . .
The wagon came to a halt before the tallest building in the city. It stood around ten stories high and was made of a black stucco-like material. Red painted animal bones formed the moldings around the rows of windows. The front door was also made of large red bones, as though they were still fresh and wet with blood. It looked like a black cathedral, a bone church.
“Those doors are seriously disturbing.”
“SIMON!” She threw her arms around him and squeezed.
“Zoey—can’t—breathe,” said Simon into Zoey’s shoulder. “Seriously, you’re killing me.”
Zoey released him. “Sorry, it’s just . . .” she hesitated, her heart thumping, “I thought you’d never wake up. I’m so happy to see you’re okay.”
Tristan shared a smiled with Zoey and then patted Simon on the back. “Really glad you’re back with us, man. You had us really worried.”
“What? And miss out on all th
e fun?” said Simon. “Not a chance.”
He pulled himself up and rubbed his head. “I have a nasty bump on my head.”
He hesitated and then asked, “Am I still . . . old? Or do I look like me again?”
Zoey saw the glint of hope in his wet blue eyes. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she couldn’t lie either. “Sorry, Simon, but you still look like someone’s grandfather.”
Simon was silent for a moment. “Where are we? And what’s up with the hooded munchkins?”
Tristan quickly explained what had happened after Simon had blacked out.
“So this is Nexus City, eh?” said Simon as he examined his surroundings. “What do you think the Chacras are going to do to us—”?
The front doors made of bones swung open.
A tall, hunched creature with long spindly legs and arms and a round torso that looked as though it was filled with air walked down the stone steps and made for the wagon. It had no visible neck, a small, flat bald head, and lopsided shoulders. It wore a white lab coat and looked at them with bulbous pink eyes. The coat was stained with burgundy and green spots, and Zoey thought she could see chunks of flesh splattered over the front and sleeves.
“That dude looks like a cross between Dr. Frankenstein and Mr. Hyde,” laughed Simon.
Zoey glanced at Simon. She still felt weird that her friend’s voice and face looked and sounded so old. She hoped the effect wasn’t permanent.
“It’s worse than that,” said Tristan. He leaned back and lowered his voice. “He’s an Anerak.”
Zoey’s throat tightened. “Those are the mystics Mrs. Dupont sold my mother to . . . the doctors.”
Tristan nodded. “I wouldn’t call them doctors. They’re rumored to be responsible for unethical experiments. They call themselves doctors, but they’re the worst kind of doctor monsters.”
When Zoey had first discovered that Mrs. Dupont had sold her mother to these experimental doctors, she did her best not to imagine the worse, but she couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to visualize the atrocities in her mind, and now she could finally put a face to this evil.
As the Anerak spoke to the Chacras, its thin lips spread into an evil smile. Zoey wondered if the creature had smiled like that right before it had poked and prodded her mother. She glared at the creature in the white coat.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” asked Zoey.
One of the Anerak’s bulbous eyes watched her, while the other focused on the Chacras it spoke to.
Tristan leaned forward, frowning. “Probably making a trade.”
“You mean us.” Although Zoey wasn’t thrilled at the idea, she still really wanted to know why the lab-coated creature looked so familiar.
And then it hit her.
The Anerak was the creature from her nightmares—the ones torturing her, performing experiments on her while she was chained to a bed. It was all coming back to her. The doctors in her nightmares weren’t human doctors. They never were. They were Aneraks. Zoey had the horrible feeling that the girl in her dreams wasn’t her at all—it was her mother. As the realization hit her, she knew it was the truth. Somehow, she had seen her own mother being tortured. Her stomach was in knots. She had to be alive . . . .
After a brief conversation, the Anerak dismissed the Chacras with a wave of its skeletal hand, and the Chacras waddled back towards the wagon.
“Out!” it barked and shoved Zoey. Its eyes widened at the sight of Simon sitting up, but it didn’t say anything. It looked pleased.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Zoey jumped down from the wagon. She felt slightly revived after the short trip and helped Simon down.
The Chacras shoved Zoey, Simon, and Tristan up the steps. When they stood at the top of the stone steps and faced the Anerak, the creature drummed its gangly fingers together in excitement. Up close it was taller than Tristan and much, much uglier. Its pale greenish skin was covered in pimples, scabs, and oozing blisters.
“Humans!” said the Anerak in a voice that sounded like it had swallowed an accordion. “Good, good, yes, yes.”
It paused for a moment, measuring Zoey. A small, triumphant smile twitched on its lips, and she had the eerie feeling it had seen her before. It was almost too pleased to see her. While one of its pink swollen eyes still focused on Zoey, the other rolled over Tristan like he was the next best thing to candy. But when it examined Simon, both of its eyes focused on him. Its thin mouth was slightly open in astonishment.
“You are old,” it said in more of a question than a statement. It poked him repeatedly with its pencil-thin finger.
“Hey, stop that!” growled Simon and he took a step back. “I’m not a wax figure. I’m real you know. I’m alive.”
The Anerak leaned over him, its long nose inches from his face, and sniffed. “You smell young, but you look old? Why is that?”
“It’s called aging,” grumbled Simon, as he tried to wiggle away from the creature.
“Very curious.” The Anerak stood back. “Old . . . and very ugly.”
“Look who’s talking, stick-man,” muttered Simon. He leaned away from the Anerak’s curious eyes, like he was afraid they were going to jump out at him.
“No matter. We can still perform the Dream Purge.”
Simon paled. “What’s the Dream Purge?”
The creature ignored him, and its eerie smile widened. “I am Doctor One. You may address me as Doctor One.”
“Is this freak for real?” chortled Simon. “I feel like I’m stuck in a really bad rerun of the Outer Limits—” He was struck in the back of the head with a spear, and he fell to his knees.
Tristan moved to defend Simon, but a gun and two spears were aimed at his head. He froze. The muscles in his face twitched, and Zoey could see his skin tingle with a little blue hue. She met his eyes and pleaded with him. She didn’t want him to get hurt, and somehow she knew she needed to get inside that building, even though every inch of her was screaming not to.
Doctor One scratched a scab on his arm and then flicked a flaky piece away.
“Humans are very hard to come by in these parts. You are very rare commodities in our world and very expensive,” said the doctor happily. “But as you stand here before me, I can see that you were all worth the trouble . . . and more. My little friends have done very well today, very well indeed.”
The doctor drew a small bag from the folds of its coat and tossed it to the Chacras. Their kidnapper examined the contents of the bag and seemed satisfied.
There was something odd about the way the good doctor was eyeing them, more like a mortician than a doctor.
Zoey shared a worried look with her friends. If they were going to make a run for it, now was the time.
Just as she thought about running, something cold and heavy was latched around her neck. She jumped back in surprise, but the collar tightened around her neck like a metal scarf.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
She tried to pull it off, but she couldn’t. Before she could react further, the Anerak seized her arms and chained her wrists together.
Zoey was stunned. What had just happened? Tristan and Simon were shackled with large metal collars around their necks just like hers, like they were dogs.
Tristan fought against his restraints. His skin shone blue, and he tried to break free desperately.
“It’s pointless, Mysterian,” said the doctor. “Even with your strength, you cannot break free. A word to the wise: keep your energy for later. You will need it.”
The creature grinned, its pointy teeth blackened and rotten.
Zoey glared at the doctor and raised her wrists. “Why are you doing this? We haven’t done anything.”
Doctor One’s smile sent a chill through Zoey.
“What did you expect? That we’d throw a party in your honor? You can’t just waltz into our world without suffering the consequences. You agents imprison our kind when we venture into your world. It’s the same here. There are rules. Trespas
sers are dealt with harshly. But it’s lucky my friends found you first—”
“I don’t feel very lucky,” grumbled Simon. “I guess it’s these chains. They’re weighing down my otherwise high spirits.”
One of the doctor’s pink eyes rolled in Simon’s direction. He still seemed puzzled by Simon’s age.
He waved a thin, bony arm in the air. “Now, you will follow me inside in silence. Your kind is not permitted to speak. I’m anxious to begin.”
Zoey frowned. “Listen, you need to know something. Both our worlds are in danger—”
The metal collar tightened around her neck immediately. She was suffocating. Black spots danced before her eyes as she tried desperately to remove the collar, but she could hardly think. She staggered and then fell to the ground. She tried to focus, but she went spinning into darkness.
Chapter 16
The Doctors Are In
When Zoey regained consciousness, she was lying on the floor. She blinked at a pair of white boots with pointy toes. She looked up at Doctor One. He held a remote control.
“No more talking from now on,” he said darkly. “If you don’t want me to use the collar again, you will do as I say. If you speak, I will use it again and again until you start bleeding from the ears, and then I’ll fry your brain like eggs in a pan. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to torture agents, but I would prefer to present you to my colleagues unspoiled. Do you understand, agent?”
Zoey moved her lips but no words came out. She wheezed as she tried to breathe normally again. Her throat burned like she had swallowed a gallon of bleach. Her head still throbbed and she felt a pressure in her ears like when she used to dive at the local pool.
“Just a nod will suffice. You are not permitted to speak.”
She glared at the doctor and nodded.
“Good,” said the doctor. “You show a degree of compliance. You’ll do very well.”
Mystics 3-Book Collection Page 62
