Monsters: The Ashes Trilogy (49 page)

done
?”
“What needed to be done,” Mellie said, “to set us on the path for
Rule.”

“I . . . I . . .” Chris was shivering. Icy water streamed from his dripping hair and down his neck. He was so numb with cold, he couldn’t
feel his feet. He looked left and somehow wasn’t surprised to find
Jess, regal as a queen, with her black-mirror eyes and Medusa hair.

“What is this?” he asked her. “Why am I here? This isn’t my nightmare. It isn’t even my memory. This is Peter and Simon’s . . .”
“I have to go back.” Peter ripped off his life vest. Beneath, he wore
a pair of dripping camo over-whites, but there was something strange
around his neck, a wide black . . . collar? “Penny’s still in the boat,
she’s still—” Yanking an underwater flashlight from his belt, Peter
threw himself into the water.
“Go with him,” Jess said. “It’s dark down there, and cold. Even
with the light, he’ll lose his way.”
“No.” Chris cringed. His arms were pebbly with gooseflesh. “And
don’t touch me again. This isn’t my nightmare. It’s his.”
“It is also Simon’s.”
“Then let them keep it. I have problems of my own. Please, Jess.”
He closed his eyes, but he could still hear the cries of the gulls overhead and the slap of water on rubber. “I told Ellie the truth about
Alex. I’m on my way to Rule. If I’m right, Lena’s following. So
Hannah and Isaac are safe, at least from her. What more do you want
from me? When will it be enough?”
“Truth comes from water and blood,” Jess said. “If you truly care
for Peter, then this is the only way, Chris.”
“What does that mean, Jess?” He kept his eyes squeezed shut.
He couldn’t bear to see what he looked like in those black mirrors:
spidery and strange, both himself and something alien.
How is this
happening? Why?
“Is Peter alive? Is that it?”
“Do you want him to be?”
“God, yes.”
“Then follow him into his darkness, Chris.” He felt her hands on
his back. “But don’t forget to hold your breath.”
“This is a dream, Jess.” Opening his eyes, he stared down at his
watery twin. “You can’t die in your dreams.”
“This is Peter’s nightmare, and I don’t think you want to test that,”
she said, and gave him a push.
The water was so cold it was fire. Chris sank, the water like chains,
drawing him down. Below was the feeble bob of Peter’s light and a
sinking, gutted husk of a boat. Most of the aft deck was gone; the
pilothouse was a ruin; the hole the fire made gaped like a wound.
No choice now. He was committed. His lungs strained, the pressure
building inside and out. The water was so oily, he was afraid to look
away from Peter and the boat. As he neared, he saw Peter’s light angle
up. By some miracle, the deck aft of the engine room was intact.
Using a metal ladder as a guide, Peter wormed through a square
hatch.
Chris followed. Inside the wreck, the churning water was even
blacker, curling with what looked like smoke. As he broke through
into a very slim wedge of air and screams, he realized that what he
was looking at—swimming through—was blood.
“Calm down, you have to calm down!” Peter was shouting. Both
girls had their hands hooked around a pipe. Chris had no trouble recognizing Penny; the shrieking girl had Peter’s jaw and eyes. The other
girl, who looked much older, was no less frightened. Blood pumped
from a large gash in her scalp. “Just follow me, Penny,” Peter said.
“We’ll all get out, I promise.”
“I can’t!” Penny’s lips pulled apart in a terrified grimace. “I can’t
hold my breath that long! I’ll drown, I’ll die!”
“Penny.”
Peter was trying to pry his sister’s hands free. “Let
go
—”
“I
can’t
!” Thrashing, Penny lost it.
“I don’t want to die, I don’t want
to—”
“Help me.” The other girl was pale as marble, her blood almost
black in Peter’s light. Water slopped over her chin. “I don’t know how
to swim, I can’t—”
“We can’t take them both at the same time.” Peter’s eyes shone
with panic and tears. “It’ll take two of us to handle Penny, and we
can’t
—”
“N-no.” One hand slipped, and the girl flailed. The air pocket had
squeezed to a slim six inches. “No, don’t leave me alone, d-don’t—”
“Hang on.” Lunging, Chris slapped her hands back onto the pipe.
The air pocket was shrinking very fast, and he was freezing, getting
tired out. He was horribly aware that the longer they stayed, the
deeper the boat sank. As it was, he’d barely made it. “Can’t you swim
at all?”
“Nuh-no,” the girl moaned. “Nuh . . .”
“We have to
go
.” Peter had managed to loosen one of Penny’s
hands, but the other clung so fiercely to the pipe, he couldn’t both
hold her and work her free. “
Help
me.”
“No,”
the girl cried. “Wait!”
But Chris was already wrapping both hands around Penny’s wrist,
pulling with all his might, fighting her terror, and then her hands
were free and he was shouting, “Peter! Go now, go
now
!”
“Penny!” Peter grabbed the still-screaming girl’s face. “Penny, hold
your breath, stop screaming, hold your—”
“No!”
the other girl shrieked.
“No, don’t leave me here, don’t—”
“Come
on
!” Peter bellowed, and then they were under the water,
kicking out of the engine room, the three of them stroking their way
through the hatch. Penny was still thrashing; Peter had one arm and
Chris the other. Peter’s light stabbed up, but Chris was no longer sure
if that truly
was
the way. He could hear Penny: the boil of her breath
and a thin
mmm-mmm-mmm!
Stop screaming, stop screaming!
Slapping his hand over her nose and
mouth, Chris kicked hard. Too far above, the faint glimmer of a distant sky spread itself over the water, but his air was nearly gone; his
lungs was blazing.
I was wrong. I’m going to die down here in the dark; I’m
going to drown in Peter’s nightmare . . .
“No,” Peter said—and because this was a dream, they were, suddenly, in the bobbing raft again, side by side. No Penny. No Jess. No
wrecked boat, of course; that was lost to the dark, and the girl with it.
“You can’t stay here, Chris.” Peter stared out over endless inky water.
“I won’t let you.”
“A-are you d-dead?” He was shuddering so hard, his mouth balked.
“Partly.”
“Wh-what does th-that mean?”
“I’m not sure myself.” Face still averted, Peter shook his head. “I
think part of me died right here. You really should go, Chris. I don’t
know how long it’s safe for you to stay.”
“I’m n-not leaving you, Peter. Let me h-help you.”
“I don’t think you can.” And then Peter turned. His eyes were no
longer blue but as red as that drowned girl’s blood might’ve been in
light. “Still love me, Chris?” Peter said. Then: “Easy. Watch out you
don’t shoot—”

“Whoa, watch it!” Ellie jumped, and as her armload of wood clattered to the ground, Jayden bolted to a sit, simultaneously trying to
struggle out of a sleeping bag and free his gun hand.

“What?” Jayden said, wildly.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, feeling the sudden tension drain. When they
made the decision to stop a few hours ago, the eastern horizon had
been only a silver smudge. Now bright sun stabbed through trees. He
scrubbed his face with his hands. “Sorry. I was having a bad dream
and—”
“You have a lot of bad dreams,” Ellie said, curtly. She gave the
dog a hip-butt and began picking up scattered branches and twigs. “I
thought we could have tea before we leave.”
“Here.” Chris made a move to get up. “Let me help.”
“I can do it.” Ellie snatched a branch out of reach. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. Sure.” When Ellie didn’t reply, he looked over at Jayden.
“Sorry about that.”
“She’s right. You do have a lot of bad dreams.” Yawning, Jayden
kicked out of his bag, stood, then grabbed his back. “Man, I knew
there was a reason God invented the bed . . . Nope, sorry.” He held up
a hand. “I didn’t say that. Don’t tell me you didn’t ask me to come—”
“Well, I didn’t,” Chris said.
“Because I’ll tell you where to shove it,” Jayden said.
“Where the sun doesn’t shine,” Ellie said, still not smiling,
although Mina grinned.
“Right.” Turning, Jayden stumbled off into the woods. “Be back.”
Chris watched as Ellie first broke large twigs into smaller kindling and then pulled out her knife and began carefully fuzzing bark.
“You’re good at that.”
“Alex taught me,” Ellie said, eyes fixed to her task. Ever since
they’d left, the little girl spoke to him only when necessary. He hadn’t
pressed. He was stunned enough she and Jayden had insisted on coming, although Jayden’s rationale he half-understood and even agreed
with:
It’s not just you. I knew Lena before you did, and I don’t know if I
can stay with Hannah now, anyway.
Ellie, on the other hand, had simply refused to budge:
It’s my choice.
No other explanation. At that,
Hannah had been ready to spit nails. But what could she—or Chris—
say? “How many more days until Rule?” Ellie asked.
“If we keep pushing? Two. No more than three, especially if the
weather holds.”
“Are you going to kill her?”
He knew who she meant. “If we see her. That was the idea behind
leaving.”
“I don’t know if you should. Shoot Lena, I mean. She still feels
. . . different.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I was really close, twice, and got a good look at her face.
You know how the people-eaters get that
hungry
stare? Like they’re
totally starving and you’re a hot dog? She wasn’t
all
the way like that.
Her eyes also seemed . . .” He watched her think of the right word.
“
Sorry
. Like my dad when he went back to Iraq? It was his job. He had
no choice. I think Lena’s the same way. She’s
stuck
.”
“If she can’t help herself, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like she’s sick
and we can wait for her to snap out of it. We don’t know if that will
ever happen. It wouldn’t be right to let her go and keep hurting . . .
killing other people.” Or being miserable either, although that was
wishful thinking. The Lena he’d seen was wild, and she never came
in his dreams as anything else.
But what is Peter?
“What if she can?” Ellie said. “Stop herself ?”
“That’s an experiment we can’t run, Ellie.”
“Okay.” The little girl’s face closed. Reaching into a parka pocket,
Ellie pulled out a small plastic container and unscrewed the cap. The
contents, gooey and thick, reeked of turpentine.
This was the most she’d spoken to him in days. Hoping to get
her going again, Chris asked, “Did Alex teach you that, too?”
“Yeah. I found a good tree not too far away.” She used a stick to
scoop out a nickel-sized dollop of pine resin. “Don’t try to make nice.
I’m not talking to you.”
“Okay.” Standing, he worked cramps from his legs. “How long did
you sleep?”
“Enough.” She scraped a flint over a tangle of cedar fuzz and pine
needles. A shower of sparks jumped. Cupping the tinder, Ellie blew
until a yellow flower blossomed, then slid the bundle beneath loosely
laid twigs. “Is Peter, like, a best friend or something?”
“Yes.” There was something hypnotic about watching a fire
spread. “Best friend I ever had.”
“You know him a long time?”
“No, but it feels like it.”
“Are you worried that he’s dead?”
It was a strange question. “How come you’re asking?”
Still not looking at him, she moved a single shoulder. “Because I
don’t think you’re sure. You asked him just now, in your sleep.”
“It was a dream.”
“Maybe. But when you were sick? I sat with you sometimes. You
talked to Peter a lot, but you were more scared of him then. Now,
you’re . . .” She paused. “Sad.”
“Oh.” All of a sudden, his eyes itched. “I guess I am.”
“Are you still mad at him?” Before he could answer, she turned her
brimming eyes to his. “Because the last time my daddy went to Iraq?
I was mad, and he came home in a box. I was pissed at Grandpa Jack,
and then he died. The last morning I saw Tom and Alex, I’d gotten
mad at them, too, the night before. We made up, but . . .” A tear
dribbled down one cheek.
“You didn’t make any of that happen,” he said, part of him wishing that if evil thoughts could kill, his father would’ve keeled over
five years before the Night of the Hammer. On the other hand, he
couldn’t have wished
that
hard, because he’d also lied for the bastard when the chips were down. “Were you angry at Eli?” When she
shook her head, he said, “See?”
“But I’m afraid.” Her lower lip shuddered. “I’m still mad at you.
I understand
why
. . . but don’t lie to me again, Chris. It hurts too
much, and I don’t want you to die, too.”
The right thing to do would be to give her a hug, or touch her.
But he didn’t want to make a mistake. “I’m not going to die,” he said,
though he probably shouldn’t make promises he mightn’t keep. “I
only want to try and do what’s right. I’m not into this to get myself
killed.”
“Well,
that’s
a relief,” Jayden said, stomping from the woods. He
looked as Ellie stifled a watery laugh. “What? What’d I say?” But his
mouth was turned in a grin.
“Oohhh,”
he said, reeling the little girl in
for a knuckle rub. “You thought I meant
that
.”
“Nooo,”
Ellie squealed, cracking up all over again.
“It is, however, an excellent question.” Jayden gave Ellie’s head a
final tousle. “Lena or no Lena, what
is
the game plan once we get to
Rule? People there you can trust?”
“A few.” Crouching over a sparse patch of unbroken snow, he
made an X. “If Rule’s at the center of a clock, we’re coming in from
up here.” He poked a finger at ten o’clock. “We have two choices:
either loop clockwise to the hospice here”—he traced an arc to two
o’clock—“or keep on this route and drop down to the southwest corner here.” An X at seven o’clock.
“Which is faster?” Ellie asked.
“Six of one, half dozen of the other. We can trust Kincaid, the
doctor, I think, and some girls I know who lived with Alex: Sarah
and Tori. Greg and Pru, from my squad, are good guys, but they’re
all the way on the other side of town.” He pointed to four o’clock.
“The only catch is Jess’s house, where Alex was? It’s not that far from
the Zone.”
“Where the people-eaters are.” When Chris nodded, Ellie continued, “Can’t we go straight down and still end up where Alex lived?”
“Well, there are more houses and people, but . . . yeah, if we’re
careful.”
“Sounds like those girls are the first stop then.” Jayden went to his
horse, pulled open a saddlebag, and withdrew a camp pot and three
enameled mugs as well as a Ziploc of tea and another of fish jerky.
“What then?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been gone two months,” Chris said, as Jayden
carefully scooped handfuls of untrammeled snow into the pot. “It’s
the middle of March now. A lot could’ve happened.” Given his many
dreams, he was willing to bet on it.
“Okay.” Nesting the pot over flames, Jayden doled out cups. “So,
we go to Sarah and Tori and . . . what? You make like Moses—
let my
people go
—or are we just going to bust everyone out?”
“I honestly haven’t thought that far. Guess it depends on if I end
up in the prison house.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Ellie said, promptly.
Jayden only filled a tea ball with loose leaves. “How likely is that?”
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a real strong possibility. What I’m
hoping is that the Council will listen. I can’t believe that they’ll just
shoot me,” he lied.
“They won’t,” Ellie said, fishing out a piece of jerky.
“Oh?” Jayden raised both eyebrows. “And
you
know this because—”
“Because,” she said, gnawing jerky that was the color of an old
loafer, “they’d have to shoot through me first.”
He and Jayden looked at each other, and then Chris said, “Come
again?”
“I saved your life, Chris. So . . . I’m responsible for you from now
on.”
“I think it goes the other way around,” Jayden said. “He owes you.”
“Yeah, but then he saved me from the lake.”
“So we’re even,” Chris said. “I’m not letting you do anything
dumb, Ellie.”
“Too late. I’m here,” she said. “Seriously, guys, you think they’ll
shoot a cute kid and her little dog, Toto, too?”
“I—,” Chris started, then shut his mouth. He and Jayden traded
another long look, and then they both began to laugh.
“See?” Ellie said, looking very pleased. She offered Chris the bag.
“Jerky?”