Lies: A Gone Novel (28 page)

MARY TERRAFINO CHECKED
her watch. Minutes.

It was coming. Coming so soon.

“I just want you kids to know that I love you,” Mary said. “Alice, back from the cliff. It's not time yet. We have to wait so that you can go with me.”

“Where are we going?” Justin asked.

“Home,” Mary said. “To our real homes. To our moms and dads.”

“How can we do that?” Justin asked.

“They're waiting.” Mary pointed. “Just outside the wall. The Prophetess has shown us the way.”

“My mommy?” Alice asked.

“Yes, Alice,” Mary said. “Everybody's mommy.”

“Can Roger come, too?” Justin asked.

“If he hurries,” Mary said.

“But he's sick. His lungs are hurt.”

“Then he'll come another time,” Mary said. Her patience
was fraying. How much longer would she have to be this person? How much longer would she have to be Mother Mary?

Other kids were pressing closer now. They'd been driven up the hill, right up against the FAYZ wall by battles going on below. Drake. Zil. Evil people, awful people, ready to hurt and kill. Ready to hurt or kill these very kids unless Mary saved them.

“Soon,” Mary crooned.

“I don't want to go without Roger,” Justin said.

“You have no choice,” Mary said.

Justin shook his head firmly. “I'm going to get him.”

“No,” Mary said.

“Yes. I am,” Justin said stubbornly.

“Shut up! I said NO!” Mary screamed. She grabbed Justin and yanked him hard by the arm. His eyes filled with tears. She shook him hard and kept screaming, “NO, NO! You'll do as I say!”

She let him go and he fell to the ground.

Mary drew herself back, stared down in horror. What had she just done?

What had she done?

It would be okay, all of it okay, once the time came. She would be gone from this place. Gone and gone and gone, and all the children would come with her, they always did, and then they would be free.

It was for their own good.

“Mary!” It was John. How he'd made it past the fights
down the road and reached her she could not imagine. Yet, here he was.

“Children,” John said. “Come with me.”

“No one is leaving,” Mary said.

“Mary…” John's voice broke. “Mary…”

 

Sanjit was torn between staring in blank horror at the cliff wall just inches away from the tip of the whirling rotors, and the awful sight of a girl, the one named Penny, hanging in midair above those same rotors.

Caine stood at the top of the cliff, unafraid of falling. He wasn't a guy who
could
fall, Sanjit realized. Caine could step off the edge and like the Road Runner simply hang in midair, beep beep, and zip back to solid ground.

Not so the girl named Penny.

The other one, Diana, was pleading with him. What was she saying? Drop the girl? Crash the helicopter?

Sanjit didn't think so. He'd seen something very wrong in Diana's dark eyes, but not murder.

Murder lived in Caine's eyes.

Sanjit had the cyclic pulled all the way back. The rotors wanted to pull back from the cliff, but Caine would not let it go.

Diana stepped backward. Walked with halting steps to the cliff edge.

“No!” Sanjit cried, but she was falling, falling.

It all happened in a heartbeat. Diana stopped in midair.

The helicopter was released from Caine's grip. It jerked suddenly backward.

Penny fell. The rotor blades retreated.

She fell past the rotors safely and Diana floated in midair and the helicopter roared backward like it had been on the end of a stretched bungee cord.

Diana was thrown more than lifted back onto the grass. She rolled and sprawled and looked up just in time for Sanjit to meet her eyes for a split second before he had his hands full.

The helicopter was moving backward but falling, like it intended to ram its tail rotor straight into the deck of the yacht below.

The other thing, the other thing, lift it lift it twist it twist it and up the helicopter went. It spun wildly around as Sanjit once more forgot the pedal but it was rising. Spinning and rising and spinning faster and faster and now Sanjit was jerked wildly as he fought to find the pedals.

Clockwise, slower, slower, pause, counterclockwise faster, faster, slower, pause.

The helicopter hovered in midair. But far from the cliff now. Out over the sea. And twice the height of the cliff.

Sanjit was rattling with nerves, teeth chattering. Virtue was still praying, gibberish mostly, and not English gibberish.

The kids were in the back screaming.

But for a few heartbeats at least, the helicopter was not falling and not spinning. It was rising.

“One thing at a time,” Sanjit told himself. “Stop going
up.” He loosened his death grip, and the twist grip went back toward neutral. He kept the pedals right where they were. He did not move the cyclic.

The helicopter was pointing toward the mainland. Not toward Perdido Beach, exactly, but toward the mainland.

Virtue stopped praying. He looked at Sanjit with huge eyes. “I think I pooped a little.”

“Just a little?” Sanjit said. “Then you've got nerves of steel, Choo.”

He aimed and pushed the cyclic forward.

The helicopter roared toward the mainland.

 

Brittney stared down at Edilio. He was facedown in the sand.

He bore the mark of a whip. His neck was raw and bloody, as though he had been lynched.

Tanner was there, too, looking down at him.

“Is he dead?” Brittney asked fearfully.

Tanner did not answer. Brittney knelt beside Edilio. She could see grains of sand move as he exhaled.

Alive. Barely. By the grace of God.

Brittney touched his face. Her fingers left a trace of mud behind.

She stood up.

“The demon,” Brittney said. “The evil one.”

“Yes,” Tanner said.

“What should I do?” Brittney asked.

“Good,” Tanner said. “You must serve God and resist evil.”

She looked at him, eyes blurring with tears. “I don't know how.”

Tanner looked past her, raising glowing eyes to the hill that rose behind Brittney.

She turned away from Edilio. She saw Zil fall to earth. Saw Dekka sinking slowly in a pillar of dust. Saw Astrid with her little brother. Saw children running up the hill, still panicked.

“Calvary,” Tanner said. “Golgotha.”

“No,” Brittney said.

“You must do as God wills,” Tanner said.

Brittney stood still. Her feet did not feel the warmth of the sand beneath them. Her skin did not feel the slight breeze from the ocean. She did not smell the salt spray.

“Climb the hill, Brittney. Climb to the place of death.”

“I will,” Brittney said.

She began to walk. She was alone, everyone else ahead, she the last to climb the hill.

Dekka was just coming down to earth. Astrid was racing ahead, pulling Nemesis with her.

How did she know to call him that? She had known Little Pete before, back in the old days. She knew his name. But in her mind the name Nemesis had formed when she saw him. And a surge of pure rage.

Is
he
the evil one, Lord? She stopped, momentarily confused as Astrid and Little Pete ran ahead.

Her arm twitched. Stretched. So very strange.

And her braces were turning liquid, leaving only a metallic slick on sharp teeth.

Zil lay groaning, his legs twisted at impossible angles.

Brittney passed him by.

She would meet the evil one when she reached the top. And then would come the battle.

 

“Everyone hold hands,” Mary said.

The children were slow to react. But then, one by one, their little faces turned to the sunset, they reached out for each other.

Mary's helpers, carrying the babies, stood in the line with all the others.

“It's coming, children,” Mary said.

“Hold tight to each other…

“Be ready, children. Be ready to jump. You have to jump so high to go to your mommy's arms…”

Mary felt it beginning, just as she had known it would. The time had come.

Fifteen years before, at this very hour, at this very minute, Mary Terrafino was born…

 

Sam could hear nothing but a hurricane wind in his ears. He could feel nothing but the manic gyration of the skateboard under his feet, rattling up through every bone in his body. That and Brianna's hands on his back, pushing him, and again and again grabbing him, righting him, guiding him on a ride that made the craziest roller coaster Sam had ever experienced look like a quiet stroll.

Up the road from the power plant.

Down the highway, slaloming through abandoned or crashed cars.

Then a blistering few seconds of tearing through town.

A turn so sharp he was airborne and completely off the board, flying through the air.

Brianna raced out in front of him, grabbed his two kicking feet and guided them back onto the board. Like a sack of cement. Sam couldn't believe he hadn't broken both legs, he hit so hard. But Brianna's hands held him steady, pushing and guiding him.

Then a blur and a sudden, shocking, gut-wrenching stop.

He was pretty sure he'd been screaming the whole time.

“We're there,” Brianna said.

 

Time stopped for Mary. People froze. The very molecules of air seemed to stop vibrating.

Yes, just as others had described it. The poof. The big one-five.

And there, oh God, her mother.

The mother of Mother Mary, Mary thought. Not beautiful, maybe, not so very beautiful in reality as she had become in memory. But so warm and so inviting.

“Come on, honey,” her mother said. “It's time to lay down the burden.”

“Mom…I've missed you so much.”

Her mother held her hands out, a waiting hug. Waiting. Arms open. Face smiling through tears.

“Mom…I'm scared…,” Mary said.

“Come to me, baby girl. Hold tight to their hands and come to me.”

“The littles…my kids…”

“All their mommies are with me. Bring them out of that awful place, Mary. Set them free.”

Mary stepped forward.

ASTRID SCREAMED, “GRAB
the children! Grab the children!”

She leaped to get a grip on the child nearest to her. Others just stared. Kids gaped, stunned, as Mary stepped, as if in a dream, off the cliff.

Mary dropped from sight. She was still trying to take steps as she fell.

Her grip was tight. Kids fell with her. A chain reaction. One pulling the next, pulling the next.

Dominoes off the cliff.

 

Justin tried to pull back when Mary pulled him over the edge of the cliff. But he wasn't strong enough to loosen her iron grip.

He fell.

And the little girl who held his other hand fell after him.

Justin didn't cry out. There was no time.

Rocks rushed up at him. Fast as a time when he'd been hit in the face by a dodgeball. But he knew the rocks wouldn't sting and bounce away.

A rock monster opened jaws to receive him. Jagged stone teeth were going to chew him up.

 

Astrid's grip was too weak.

The child she'd grabbed was torn from her grip.

Disappeared over the side.

She turned away, eyes wide with horror.

Brittney was there, right there, staring at her. But her face was changing, twisting, a horrible mask of melting flesh.

And Sam!

Sam, staring.

Brianna, a sudden blur as she leaped off the cliff.

 

Mary felt her grip on the children loosen. They weren't falling, they were flying. Flying free.

Her mother held out her arms and Mary, free at last, flew to her.

 

Justin felt Mother Mary's hand simply disappear. There, firmly gripping his one moment.

Then gone.

Justin fell.

But behind him something fell faster, a wind, a rush, a rocket. He was halfway to the rocks when the something fast hit him and knocked the air out of him.

He flew sideways. Like a baseball that had just been hit for a home run. He was rolling across the sand of the beach now, rolling like he'd probably never stop.

He hit the sand ahead of the others who, without Brianna's speed, simply fell toward the rocks.

 

“Well, if it isn't Astrid,” Brittney said with Drake's voice. “And you brought the Petard with you.”

Brittney, whose arm was now as long as a python, whose braces had been replaced by a shark smile, laughed.

“Surprise!” The thing that was not Brittney said.

“Drake.” Astrid gasped.

“You're next, pretty girl. You and your idiot brother. Over the side. Jump!”

Drake lashed at her with his whip hand.

Astrid staggered back.

She reached for Little Pete. She grabbed his hand. But it slipped from her grip. Instead, she held the game player. She stared at it, uncomprehending.

Astrid took a step back in midair, tried to recover, windmilled her arms crazily, trying to maintain her balance. But she could feel the truth: she was too far.

And then, as she gave up, as she accepted the fact of death and called on God to save her brother, something hit her hard in the back.

She jerked forward. Both feet on solid ground.

“You're welcome,” Brianna said.

The impact had thrown the game player from her hand. It
spun through the air and hit a rock. Smashed.

Drake drew back his whip arm.

“Oh, I've been waiting for this,” Brianna said.

“No, Breeze,” Sam said. “This is my job.”

Drake whirled, seeing Sam for the first time. Drake's mud-stained grin disappeared.

“Sam!” he said. “You really ready for another round?”

His whip snapped.

Sam raised his hand, palm out. Brilliant green light blazed. But the whip had upset Sam's aim. Instead of burning a hole through Drake's middle, he hit Drake's foot.

Drake bellowed in rage. He tried to take a step forward, but his foot wasn't just burned—it was gone. He rested his weight on a charred stump.

Sam aimed and fired and Drake fell onto his back. Both his feet were gone now.

But even as Sam watched, the legs were regenerating. Growing.

“See?” Drake said through teeth gritted more in fury and triumph than in pain. “I can't be killed, Sam. I'll be with you forever.”

Sam raised both hands.

Beams of green light burned away the new growth. Sam played the light slowly up Drake's legs. Calves. Knees. The whip hand thrashed and slashed, but Sam was out of range.

Drake screamed.

Thighs burned. Hips. But still Drake lived and screamed and laughed. “You can't kill me!”

“Yeah, well, let's just see if that's true,” Sam said.

But then, a voice cried out. “Sing, Jill! Sing!”

Nerezza, her face no longer covered with flesh but with what seemed to be billions of crawling cells that glowed a green not much different from Sam's own killing light.

“SIIIING, Siren!” Nerezza cried. “SIIIING!”

 

Jill knew the song she was supposed to sing. The song John had taught her.

She had come to fear Nerezza. She'd feared her almost from the first. But then had come the moment when Orsay told Nerezza to go away.

The last words Orsay had spoken. “I can't go on this way,” Orsay had said.

“What do you mean?” Nerezza had asked.

“You…you have to go away, Nerezza. I can't go on this way.”

That's when Nerezza had done the horrible thing to Orsay. With her hands around Orsay's throat. Squeezing. Orsay had barely seemed to fight back, as though she accepted it.

Nerezza had carried her to the rock and dragged her to the top.

“She'll be fine,” Nerezza had lied to Jill. “And if you do exactly what I say, you'll be fine, too.”

Now Orsay stared through blank, empty eyes. She hadn't seen Mary lead the children to the cliff.

She hadn't seen Mary pull the children off the edge.

Hadn't seen them fall.

But Jill had.

Jill sang.

Sam's killing light died.

Brianna stood still completely still.

Astrid froze in mid-cry.

The kids of Perdido Beach, all within sound of the Siren's voice, stopped, and turned toward the little girl.

All but three.

Little Pete stumbled toward his game player.

Nerezza laughed and reached down to give a hand to Drake, who was swiftly regrowing what he had lost.

“Sing on, Siren!” Nerezza cried, giddy, triumphant.

Sam knew in a distant, far-off way what was happening. His mind still worked, though at a tenth of its normal speed, gears turning like a windmill in the faintest breeze.

Drake could almost stand. In a moment he would come for Sam. He would finish what he had started.

The memory of pain bubbled slowly up within Sam. But
he lacked the power to move, to act, to do. He could only watch helplessly. Just like before. Helpless.

But then, out of a corner of his eye, Sam saw something very strange. Something was flying very fast over the ocean.

He heard a distant thwap thwap thwap.

The sound grew louder, as the helicopter roared across the ocean.

Loud.

Louder.

Loud enough.

Sam tried to move and found that he could.

“No!” Nerezza cried.

Sam fired once. The beams hit Nerezza in the chest. It was enough to kill anyone. To burn a hole through any living thing.

But Nerezza did not burn. She simply looked at Sam with a look of cold hatred. Her eyes glowed green, a light so bright it almost rivaled Sam's fire for brightness. And then, she was gone.

Drake watched as his feet grew back. But not quickly enough.

“Now, Drake,” Sam said. “Where were we?”

He felt Astrid at his side. “Do it,” she said grimly.

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said.

 

Sanjit had mastered the art of flying straight ahead.

He had almost mastered the art of aiming in one particular direction. You could do it with the pedals. So long as you
were very, very gentle and very, very careful.

But he wasn't exactly sure he knew how to stop.

Now he was rushing toward land at amazing speed. And he supposed he might as well keep going a while longer. Especially since he didn't quite know how to stop. Exactly.

But then Virtue yelled, “Stop!”

“What?”

Virtue reached over, grabbed the cyclic, and pushed it hard to the left.

The helicopter banked suddenly, wildly, just as Sanjit noticed the fact that the sky directly ahead of them wasn't exactly sky. In fact, when you looked at it from the right angle it looked an awful lot like a wall.

The helicopter screamed over the heads of a bunch of kids who looked like they were watching the sunset from the cliff.

The helicopter went fully sideways and the skids screeched along something that was very definitely not sky.

Then it was free again but still sideways and sinking fast toward the ground. An empty pool, tennis courts, rooftops flashed by in a split second.

Sanjit eased the cyclic back to the right but completely forgot about the pedals. The helicopter spun a 360 in the air, slowed, fought its way up, and then hovered in midair.

“I think I'm going to land,” Sanjit said.

The helicopter came down with a crash. The plastic of the canopy cracked and starred. Sanjit felt as if his spine had been jackhammered.

He switched off the engine.

Virtue was staring and shaking and maybe mumbling something.

Sanjit twisted in his seat.

“You guys okay? Bowie? Pixie? Peace?”

He got three shaky nods in response.

Sanjit laughed and tried to high-five Virtue but their hands missed. Sanjit laughed again.

“So,” Sanjit said. “You guys want to go up again?”

 

Drake bellowed in fear and pain as the green light ate its way relentlessly up his body.

Drake was smoke from the waist down when from his mouth came Brittney's voice.

Drake's teeth flashed metal.

The lean, cruel face of the psychopath melted from its own internal fire. Brittney's full, pimpled face emerged.

“Don't stop, Sam!” Brittney cried. “You have to destroy all of it, every bit.”

“I can't,” Sam said.

“You must!” Brittney said through her screams. “Kill it! Kill the evil one!”

“Brittney…,” Sam said, helpless.

“Kill it! Kill it!” Brittney cried.

Sam shook his head. He looked at Astrid. Her face was a mirror of his own.

“Breeze,” Sam said. “Rope. Chains. A lot of it. Whatever you can find. Now!”

 

Astrid spotted Little Pete. He was safe. Looking for his game. Searching, but not near the edge of the cliff, thankfully.

She forced herself to go to the cliff. She had to see.

She leaned out over the side.

Dekka lay on her back in a mud of bloody sand. Her arms were both outstretched toward the cliff.

The little boy named Justin was limping up out of the surf, holding his stomach. Brianna had saved him. Dekka had saved the rest.

And where Astrid had expected to see small, crumpled bodies, children huddled together on the rocks.

Astrid, tears in her eyes, gave Dekka a small wave.

Dekka did not notice her and did not wave back. She slowly lowered her arms and lay there, a picture of exhaustion.

Mary was nowhere to be seen. Her fifteenth birthday had come, and she had gone. Astrid made the sign of the cross and prayed wordlessly that somehow Mary was right and that she was in her mother's arms.

“Petey?” she called.

“He's over there,” someone answered.

Little Pete had come to a stop near the FAYZ wall. He was just bending down.

“Petey,” Astrid called.

Little Pete stood up with his game player, shattered screen dribbling fragments of glass from his hand.

His eyes found Astrid.

Little Pete howled like an animal. Howled like a mad thing,
howled in a voice impossibly large.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” A cry of loss, a mad tragic cry.

He bent into a backward “C” and howled like an animal.

Suddenly, the FAYZ wall was gone.

Astrid gaped in amazement at a landscape of satellite trucks and cars, a motel, a crowd of people, regular people, adults, behind a security rope, staring.

Little Pete fell on his back.

And in a flash it was all gone.

The wall was back.

And Little Pete was silent.