Thunder roared overhead and rain lashed Nev’s body as he ran, Mich draped over his back. The lightning that flashed around him cast a brief but sickly glow on the trees. His legs shuddered with exhaustion and his wet hair swept into his eyes but he didn’t dare stop. He knew that they wouldn’t be safe until they were back at the Library, but he couldn’t help but wonder where the gray people were.
You’d figure they’d have found us by now.
He had long ago lost track of where he was. As he stumbled along through a nightmare out of his past he kept the image of the Library in his mind—to do anything else would be to go mad.
It’s okay, Mich. We’re gonna get back safe and sound . . . we’ll go see Camille, get fixed up, and before you know we’ll be soaking in the tub, forgetting about all of this . . .
He finally emerged from the dense trees and found himself on the pebbled path that eventually would lead him to the Library. Strength surged back into his exhausted limbs and he picked up the pace; suddenly something lashed its way around his ankles, slamming him into the rocky, muddy ground. Mich fell from his shoulders, an oversized rag doll tumbling into the thick ivy at the side of the path.
Nev crawled to his hands and knees, his breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. Hot, stabbing pain shot through his arms and back as he tried to regain his balance.
With a sharp crack something hard struck Nev in the back, sending another white-hot flare of pain shooting along his abused spine. He collapsed into the mud, trying to squirm away as invisible arms and legs pummeled him from all sides; each hit made a dull, damp slapping sound as Nev dug his bleeding fingers into the wet ground, his only thought to escape.
Without warning the beating stopped; Nev rolled onto his back, shaking the wet hair out of his eyes and blinking into the stinging rain.
{You have destroyed our work}, the familiar ghostly voice said. As Nev watched in terror a tall figure draped in gray slowly materialized before him. {The stronghold was our source of power. Now it is gone. The others are dead. You have destroyed us.}
“Yeah, but you . . . tried to . . . kill me . . . and kill Mich . . . ” Nev panted. “You can’t just . . . go around . . . takin’ people . . . and trying to . . . steal their bodies.”
{We wanted to be real, like you. Now we never shall be—and you will not escape us again.}
“So, what? You’re . . . gonna kill me?”
{Yes.}
~*~
“Well, this is where we came out,” Hatch said. They stood at the edge of the remnants of the gray people’s lair—a huge sunken pit that was rapidly turning to mud.
“Anissa, do you sense anything?”
Anissa closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. “No. Nothing, but I don’t think they’re in there.”
“Why not?”
Anissa pointed to the muddy ground nearby, where a set of clear bootprints could be seen. “Because those are the boots that Mich gave Nev for Christmas.”
Hatch grinned and clapped Nabu on the shoulder. “Then they got out okay!”
“Well, Nev did, at any rate,” Cin said darkly. “Come on—let’s get back to the Library. Maybe they’ll be there.”
~*~
Nev crawled to his feet. “Then how ‘bout a fair fight? You’ve taken so much from me I think I deserve the chance.”
The gray person remained silent for several long moments. {Very well. The others are dead and my time is short. In the end, it does not matter.} It tossed off its raiments, revealing a young, lanky man with short, almost white hair and delicate, elfin features. His pale gray eyes closed, and his form crossed the line from semi-existence, shimmering into full solidity.
Nev took a step forward, his fists clenched. Because he lived with Mich and Nabu and Hatch and Gareth, he had out of necessity learned how to fight, and as the gray person raised his fists Nev felt a hot tingle run down his spine. This . . . thing, after creating him, torturing him, and trying to kill him, had released him and waited until Nev had a happy life with people he loved, then came and kidnapped him, trying to kill not only him, but Mich as well. Rage seethed within him, making him sweat even in the midst of the cold rain.
With a roar he charged, striking the small form with his fists. The gray person returned fire, pummeling Nev’s sides before delivering a staggering blow to Nev’s head that sent the clone reeling. The gray person kicked—Nev reached out and caught the limb, lifting sharply and dumping his opponent into the mud. Nev leaped on top of the being, pummeling him with his fists and letting the outrage and pain flow out of him. The gray person reached up and seized Nev around the neck, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of his throat. Nev choked and gasped, fighting to draw in air, and drove his elbow into the being’s solar plexus—the pressure was released and Nev snarled, driving his forearm against the creature’s throat.
“There! How do you like it!! How do you like not bein’ able to breathe!! Havin’ someone standing nearby who’s not doin’ anything to help you!!” Nev tilted his head back, showing the creature the shredded, burnt skin. “How ‘bout I burn you till you bleed, huh?!”
The gray person gasped, his eyes bulging from their sockets, gave one last jerk, then lay still. Before Nev’s astonished eyes the creature faded like an old photograph, until he found himself straddling air, staring down at the pebbles and mud.
Relief so intense it was physically painful flooded through Nev’s heaving body, and he collapsed back onto his hands, sobbing weakly.
It’s over. Dear God in heaven it’s actually over.
After a few minutes—or maybe it was hours—Nev crawled to his feet and stumbled over to Mich. Wet leaves and twigs were tangled in her hair, and dirt marred the pale pink of her cheeks. He gently touched her neck, where a pulse throbbed steadily.
“Looks like we made it once again, Mich,” Nev said. He lifted her back onto his shoulders for the millionth time and staggered off into the night.
On to Chapter Thirteen
Back to Chapter Eleven
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