Fade (9 page)

A deep intake of the fusty air in the murky room and he pressed his elbow into his wounded side, working it into the flesh in circles. The pain was immense. He let himself fall to that side, digging the arm in deeper. He growled, concentrating on the pain.
That’s all there is. That’s all that I know or feel. Pain. This is my life. This is what will drive me. This will set me free.
No freedom came. He lurched upwards and vomited. His body shook; his hands trembled in the still present-not-present bonds. But they were translucent now.

A breath filled his chest and his eyes fixed on the see-through chains on his arms. “Now, that’s just not real.” His side quivered and he gasped again. “Just a lie. I can,” he began to pull his hands apart, “move right through these lies.” And he did. The bonds hit the ground with a clatter because a part of him expected them to. But that didn’t matter anymore. He was free. They were gone.

This was his fault. The fact that he’d brought the girls to this world stood, as an exclamation point, in his mind. All he’d accomplished after so much work was losing them. He wondered if the other two girls were in trouble, too. Had they been able to overcome the implants that held their powers at bay and defend themselves, or had he just been left alive to see their murdered remains as punishment for what he’d done to the Fade in the war? He swatted the thought away like it was a spider in his hair.

Jonas scanned the gloom for something to use as a weapon, his eyes adjusted to the dark now. Even though weapons were useless against the Wraith, who knew if other, more solid warriors might be lurking about. He was sure there must be others—others who wanted some answers they believed him to have. Because if it wasn’t information they wanted, he’d already be dead.

A rusty, four foot, steel half-inch pipe rested in the corner of the room near a shelf of canned goods and seemed to be his lone option. The stairs stood in front of him like a challenge. It felt like walking up to the gates of hell itself. He’d tried to leave the fight behind long ago, but they wouldn’t let him be. The Fade wouldn’t just go home and admit defeat. And they would pay for that. They would pay for that and for every innocent life he’d had to watch them snuff out for no other reason than they were bloodthirsty, amoral monsters. He gripped the pipe tight—flakes of rust and filth clattering down its shaft onto the wooden stairs—and pushed at the door.

Jonas braced himself, but there were no guards to be seen, no hidden warriors in the shadows, just a kitchen. A steady drip clanged in the sink basin, a cold pan of pork steaks sat on the stove, empty plates with silverware sitting in them lay on the counter. It was an easy puzzle to solve, what had happened here. It made him even more careful in his search for the girls. He stepped lightly as he made his way to the next room.

A girl was laid out on top of the dining room table. He held his breath as he went to her. Once again, there were no attacks. There was just the girl. He sat the pipe aside and touched her shoulder, trying to wake her. Nothing. It was a different girl than the redhead he’d seen being taken by the Wraith. But he was certain she was one of his. Certain they’d only come because of him. Simple, actual ropes held her, and he untied them, trying to rouse her again. After a moment, she groaned and her head lolled to one side. Eyes opened. She took in a sharp breath and sat up, backpedaling away from Jonas, almost falling from the table.

“Calm down.” He held up one hand, pulling the index finger of the other to his lips, begging her to be quiet with his eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Cynthia,” she said, getting off the table, keeping her doubtful gaze on him. “What the hell is going on? What do you want?”

“Cynthia. I’m here to help you?”

Cynthia darted her head about, raising her hands, palms out, looking for a place to run.

“My name is Jonas. You were abducted.”

“I… uh… yeah. I was.” She narrowed her eyes. “I
know
you, I think.”

“Listen. We are all in a great deal of danger right now. You have to trust me.”

“How do I know you’re…
Oh, my god!
” Cynthia covered her mouth, her eyes running back and forth, waiting for someone to appear at her sudden outburst. She was pointing to a dark corner where another girl lay limp against a wall. “Is she?” She tried to whisper. “Is she dead?”

***

Jonas whipped around and ran to the second girl. It
was
the redhead this time, and she was wrapped in the same rope as the other girl. Her thick curls were matted to her face, her head lax against the wall, mouth agape. He pressed two fingers to her neck and calmed, feeling a pulse. Tugging at the ropes he felt her stir. The knot was tight, frustrating his efforts. A quilt that had been hanging on the wall behind her fell, covering her like a shroud. Jonas growled and pulled it away, going to work again on the knot. Who knew how much time any of them had? How long would it be before the Wraith or something worse came in on them?

He pressed his face into the bundle of knots, biting at them. He felt Cynthia behind him. She whispered that she knew her, the girl he was trying to free. Her name was Angela. The knot loosened and he pulled his head back, grabbing at it and tugging it loose. Angela moaned. Jonas stopped, his forehead smoothed, eyes widened. His fingers suddenly stung like they were too close to a fire. Breath caught in his throat. “Get back,” he said in a croak.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and he turned, wrapping an arm around Cynthia’s waist as he leapt, trying to get them as far away as possible. But it happened too fast. Jonas felt the heat at his back, rising. The thin shirt he wore caught flame as they both plummeted toward the floor like felled trees. He grunted as the flames exploding from Angela bit at his back and arm. Then, the girl he held howled and they landed, hard. Flames roared over them like trailer trucks over a bridge. He could feel his skin redden.

The sound of the flames went from a roar to nothing in an instant. Jonas rolled to a sitting position, favoring his somewhat damaged arm looking over to see… Cynthia. A weak whimper escaped his lips and he was hovering over her. He froze there, staring at her raw, charred face. Patches of her smooth, black hair crisp.

“No, no, no, no.” He straddled her body, ignoring the tug of pain in his side.

She lay still, taking quick, harsh gasps of air. Her hands were bloody claws below her chin, shivering. He grabbed her shoulder and lifted her. She groaned. Everything in him wanted to stop hurting her, but there was one chance to save her. Tears blurred his eyes and he pushed his left hand under her, running fingers across her shoulder blade, hoping the activation chip in his own index finger still functioned. She complained in gurgles and short, breathy whines of agony, her breathing becoming more rapid. She would die if he didn’t find it soon.

Then he felt the small nodule right underneath her shoulder blade and pressed his middle finger hard against it. A quick, warm shock ran from the chip in his finger to the one in her back and Cynthia arched, knocking him back, taking in a long breath. With that, she slumped to the floor once more, unmoving.

“Please.
Please!
” Jonas said.

“Where am I?” A voice from behind him asked. “What just…” Angela stood up, backing against the wall, seeming to recall mid-sentence why she was waking somewhere other than her bedroom.

“It... It’s okay,” Jonas said, “I’m, uh,” his wet eyes were glued to the girl on the floor, still unmoving, “here to get you out of here.” He held Cynthia’s wrist, feeling her slow pulse, her face a horrible mask of blood and exposed flesh.

Angela’s voice was shuddering, quick. “My name is Angela Billingsley. My parents will pay you a huge reward if you get me home. My dad owns Billingsley Truc— Oh,
God
!” She almost fell at the sight of the girl on the ground.

Cynthia’s pulse steadied. “Please.” Jonas’ voice was a whisper. “Please, God.” At once, the deep red of her face began to pale. Jonas swallowed hard and watched as the wounds began to scab and then shrink and smooth to fresh skin. Even her hair shivered, healing.

“Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.” Angela banged against the wall behind her, eyes wide.

Sprouts of hair poked from the skin of her eyelids, brows, and the now healing bald patches on her head. The skin was new, unscarred. A smile broke out across Jonas’ face as her eyes fluttered open.

“That’s… Is that Cynthia Cole?” Angela asked.

Cynthia pushed herself up as if she’d been napping. For a moment she just stared ahead. She licked her lips and her eyes wandered to Angela. “What… What just happened? You… Whoa. You just… exploded or something,” she said blearily, looking at Angela, delicately touching her own face.

Jonas rose. “There’s no time. We’re lucky we haven’t been found. You two are going to have to trust me. I’ll answer all of your questions.” He lowered his voice. “Just trust me.”

The girls nodded with reluctance. No choice.

“Are you the only ones here?” Jonas asked.

“I, um, I don’t know. I saw something, and…” Angela said, her face ashen, her eyes still on Cynthia.

“I know. I’ve seen it before," Jonas said. "It’s horrible, but it can’t hurt you now. But there are probably other things here that can.”

Angela bobbed her head, jaw slack.

Jonas picked up his pipe and held it out to Cynthia. “You can do more damage with this than I can now.” She hesitated, furrowing her brow. “Trust me. You’re strong now.
Very
strong.”

“What are you—?”

Jonas laid it across her hand. “Trust is the watchword for the moment. Please.”

She shook her head and waited for him to pull ahead of her. He was halfway into the living room when she grabbed his shoulder. Her grip felt like a vice. He hissed under his breath, shrinking away and turning to her.

“Am I crazy?” Her wild, worried eyes looked him in his.

He rolled his shoulder, knowing it would be bruised later. “No. I know this is a lot. Just—”

“Oh, my god. It’s you!” She took a few steps back, almost tripping over the carpet, and dropped the pipe which gave a series of hollow clanks as it settled on the floor.

“What?” He watched the pole, wishing it would shut the hell up.

“You tried to attack me at the school! You’re that bum!
You
did this!”

Jonas sort of remembered the incident, and knew it wasn’t going to help his case. “No. I’m here to help you, Cynthia. I was sick. I’d… I’d lost my memory.” He took a few steps back himself. “I’m better now. Maybe because of you.” The thought had just occurred to him—her being from here
and
the other Earth—and so young when they’d come. Maybe their interaction at the school had at last moored him to this alternate Earth. Then, the corners of his mouth turned down.
No time
. “Why would I rescue you if I put you here?” He studied the room, worried about all the noise they’d made, thinking of the people who might have owned it again. “Now, please, be quiet for five minutes more and we’ll all get out of here alive. I think there’s one more girl.” He hoped. He prayed.

Cynthia had picked up the pipe again and pointed it in his direction. He knew that at any moment she could split him in half with that rusty pole without trying very hard, but he attempted to remain calm. Her shoulders relaxed. “Fine. What the hell was with the flamethrower a second ago?” She looked at Angela, and Cynthia’s eyes narrowed; tears dripped from her long lashes.

“Your friend, Angela,” he had known her name as soon as he’d seen that red her, “is special like you. Like I said, now’s not the time for expla—”

“I know.
Trust you
, right? Well, bullshit. But you
can
show us how to get the hell out of here before I bash your head in with this.” She bobbed her head at the pipe.

Jonas started to nod and then they all stopped, turning toward a closed room ahead of them, between an old console television and a bookshelf. The scream,
no, there were two of them
, were so loud they made the roar of Angela’s flame seem like the flick of a Bic. One of them was a girl, but the other—the louder one that tore at Jonas’ ear drums—sounded more feral.

***

Lucy woke to a mirror image of the last thing she’d seen before passing out: that horrible creature standing above her. Its hands were outstretched—almost translucent. They weren’t touching her but seemed to hold her down. She tried to call out, but was paralyzed, by fear or by the creature, she wasn’t sure. She pushed with every muscle in her body against the hold the thing had on her. It smiled a wrecked, sharp-toothed grin. Gray pupils hung like a photo-negative of the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Stop your struggling.” A voice sizzled in her head. “They’ll be here to end you soon.”

She arched her back and her arms came a few centimeters off the floor, but it wasn’t enough. Her own body was fighting her to stay still. Any movement she managed made her fear her struggling was useless. Then the pain came. It was immense. She wished she could get at the spot in her shoulder that seemed to have just exploded. The room spun. The overturned wooden chair, the small table, the sewing machine sitting on it, the curtains, all seemed to dance around her, and she thought she might vomit. Then, the loud scream she’d been kept from letting loose came, but not from her throat. It seemed to build up in her brain like water into a balloon, and explode outward at her captor.

The thing wheezed. It fell against the wall. Then it rose and bared its lucent teeth, rushed back at her. Its hands shot out again and she flinched, but noticed that she was sitting upright.

“No,” the thing blurted and tried again. Its presence in her mind spread, and she felt her newfound strength being pressed down. Lucy fought, but could tell it was a losing battle. Then, something primal in her pushed back, like muscles she didn’t know she had. The thing croaked, widening its stance.

She was hurting it, she could tell. But it was still growing in her head like a tumor, clouding her ability to think. A scream erupted, her voice this time, clear and loud, and then so did the beast scream—a tinny, loud noise. It fought, but whatever she was doing to it was mightier than what it had been doing to her.