Scott Westerfeld Page 12

  The beast’s cry reached their ears. Unlike the bellow of the panther, its scream was high and reedy, torturing Jessica’s ears like the shriek of a boiling teakettle.

  A chorus of cries came in answer, piercingly high chirps from somewhere in front of them.

  “The badlands are up ahead,” Jonathan said.

  Jessica nodded and said softly, “They’re waiting for us.”

  The setting moon filled the horizon now, and she could see a cloud of flying slithers against its lightless but blinding face. There were hundreds of them, wheeling in a chaotic mass, and two larger shapes, darklings on the wing.

  “This is too weird,” said Jonathan. “I’ve never seen—”

  “This way,” Jessica interrupted as they struck the ground. She pulled him to one side, angling away from the armada of creatures ahead. But her decision had come too late. Their hands jerked taut against each other, and she felt her fingers slipping. She reached out with her other hand for him, but their momentum carried them apart.

  “Jess!” she heard Jonathan shout.

  As they tugged free, she felt gravity take a brutal hold upon her body. They had just left the ground, and there wasn’t far to fall, but the asphalt was moving past under her quickly. It was like looking down at the street through the window of a speeding car. She rolled into a ball.

  Just before Jessica hit the ground, the asphalt seemed to change texture, suddenly dark and uneven. When she struck the earth, it was covered with something unexpectedly soft. She rolled and rolled, the ground pummeling her from every direction.

  Jessica finally came to a stop, bruised and breathless. She lay there for a second, feeling terribly heavy. When she could breathe, the smell of grass filled her nose. That was what had broken her fall.

  Jessica sat up slowly. She looked around.

  She had just missed the runway, landing where thick Oklahoma scrub grass led up to its edge. There was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and she was dizzy, but her arms and legs all seemed able to move.

  The sounds of slithers came from in front and behind, closing in on her. In the distance their shapes moved against the vast, dark moon like a haze of gnats. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen.

  Her normal weight felt as heavy as lead now that she could only run, not fly.

  She stood slowly. Started painfully to walk.

  “Jess!”

  Jonathan was skimming across the ground toward her, one hand extended.

  She thrust out her right hand. As he flew past, Jonathan grasped her wrist, and she was transformed into a toy balloon again, pulled in his wake. The bruises on her hands complained, and she cried out.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just banged up.”

  “I thought you were dead!”

  She giggled, a little hysterically. “I thought you were halfway to Texas.”

  Jonathan didn’t say anything, just grasped her wrist tighter.

  “Thanks for coming back,” Jessica said. She could hear the crazed sound of her own voice and wondered if she’d bumped her head. It was hard to tell if her light-headedness was brain damage or the effect of Jonathan’s touch.

  “They’re on three sides of us now,” he said.

  Jessica blinked, trying to clear her mind. She could see a cloud of slithers to their right and a lone darkling to their left and assumed there were more of each behind. On the open ground they were moving quickly again, one of her ankles twinging with pain whenever they jumped. Eventually, though, they would be driven out over the badlands, and if another group of pursuers appeared in front of them, they would have nowhere left to go.

  Suddenly Jessica spotted a mesh of girders off to the right. Rising into the sky a few stories, a brand-new building was going up at the edge of the complex.

  “Steel,” she said.

  “What?”

  She pointed. “New steel, untouched by midnight.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  The sounds of their pursuers came from all around now. Chirps and squeaks and caws, like being trapped inside some insane bird sanctuary. As they angled toward the new building, a flock of flying slithers drew closer.

  Jessica pulled out Jurisprudence with her free hand and used her teeth to pull the antenna out to its full length. The building was only a few jumps away.

  She spotted the slither just before it hit.

  The leathery wings struck first, wrapping themselves around her face. Jessica flailed away with Jurisprudence, and blue sparks filled her vision. Then the creature was gone.

  “They’re trying to separate us,” Jonathan shouted.

  Jess felt a creeping cold in her shoulder. The thing had struck for their interlocked hands. It knew she couldn’t fly on her own.

  Another slither approached, but she swiped at it with the still sparking antenna, and it flapped away.

  One last jump took them into the mesh of steel girders. They landed hard on a metal beam strung with cables.

  “I’m letting go,” Jonathan warned.

  Jessica gained her footing with only a second to spare. Weight crashed back onto her, and she knelt, clinging to the beam.

  Jonathan pulled the necklace over his head, wrapping it around his fist.

  “Splendiferous,” Jessica whispered to the steel.

  “If we can just hold out a few more—,” Jonathan started, but his voice choked off in confusion. “What in the—”

  The forest of steel around them bloomed with light—white, not blue. The world shifted into full color, the metal beams suddenly a dusty red. Jessica’s face and hands turned pink, Jonathan’s light brown.

  Suddenly there were panicked shapes all around them, screaming past like angry rockets. Slithers were flying into the building site, screeching and leaving a trail of sparks as they struck the white light, retreating back to the edge of the steel girders.

  The cloud of slithers regrouped and wrapped itself around the building, circling as if Jessica and Jonathan were caught in the eye of a tornado. Wounded sounds came from all around them, but nothing dared enter the grid of steel.

  Jessica could see three darklings together at the edge of the light, their silhouettes pulsing through horrible, half-glimpsed shapes. Their eyes flashed a deep indigo.

  A low growl came from one of them, long and full of varied sounds, as if it were trying to make words and meaning. But it was no more understandable than fingernails on a chalkboard.

  Then the three darklings turned and flew away. The flying slithers slowly gathered themselves up into a ragged cloud, the whole mass heading back out toward the badlands.

  “The moon’s setting,” Jonathan said.

  Jessica nodded, unable to speak.

  “We’d better get down.”

  Of course, Jessica thought. In a few minutes Jonathan wouldn’t be able to fly anymore. They’d be stuck up here.

  She held out her hand, and he took it. They jumped from the steel beam, falling softly to the ground. The white light around them slowly faded, returning to the placid blue light of the secret hour.

  “What was that?” she said. “What saved us?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe the steel?”

  “I gave it a thirteen-letter name,” she suggested.

  Jonathan let out a short laugh. “The whole building?”

  “I guess. The part we were standing on, at least.”

  He shook his head. “You can charge up a ring or a necklace, and Dess can do bigger stuff if it’s the right shape, but not a whole building. Maybe this place is made of some kind of crazy new metal. What does your mom do here?”

  “Aircraft research.”

  “Hmm.” Jonathan nodded. “We should look into it. That was totally cool.” He looked up at the building over their heads. “Wouldn’t mind some brass knuckles made of that stuff. Or maybe it was just the end of the blue time coming on. Lots of steel in conjunction with moonset.”

  Jessica shrugged. This was another mystery for Rex
, it sounded like.

  Then a terrible thought struck her.

  “How long do we have?” she asked.

  Jonathan glanced at the moon. “Only a minute or so until the blue time runs out. I guess we’ll be walking home tonight.”

  “Not unless we get out of here.”

  “What?”

  “They do classified defense work here, Jonathan,” she said hurriedly. “My mom got background-checked, interviewed by the FBI, and fingerprinted twice. There are security guards all over and a big fence all around.”

  “Great,” he said, scanning the horizon. He pointed and grabbed her hand. “Bixby-side fence, now!”

  She nodded. “Three, two…”

  They jumped, heading back toward the city.

  It took several bounds just to carry them to within sight of the fence. It was at least thirty feet high.

  “Oh boy,” Jonathan said.

  “What? We can clear that easy.”

  He swallowed, clenching her hand hard. “I usually don’t jump at all this close to moonset. It’s not fun getting a face full of gravity when you’re up high.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jessica said.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  They neared the fence. Jessica could see the coil of razor wire that capped it now, like a long, vicious Slinky stretched along its top. The light was changing slowly, a bit of color coming back into the world.

  “Not long now,” Jonathan said.

  Jessica swallowed. If she were caught trespassing in here, they’d blame her mother. The new job would be in the toaster.

  “Just one more jump,” she cried. “Go!”

  They soared into the air and over the fence, clearing the razor wire by at least twenty feet.

  “Oh no,” said Jonathan. “I think that was maybe a little…”

  “Too hard?” she asked.

  They continued to sail upward.

  The moon was slipping behind the hills. In the distance ahead the trees were turning green. Jessica realized that it was like sunset, right on the edge of day and night, when the light moved from east to west across the planet. Moonset and normal time—and gravity—were rushing toward them.

  “This is not good,” Jonathan said.

  They soared helplessly farther into the sky.

  Jessica thought furiously. They just needed something to pull them downward. If only they had something heavy….

  Then she realized. They did have something heavy: her.

  “Give me your chain,” she ordered.

  “What?”

  “Do it!” she yelled.

  Jonathan unwound Obstructively from his fist. She snatched it from him. The stainless steel links looked strong enough. She held one end in her free hand. “Grab the other end. Tight.”

  He grabbed it.

  With her other hand, she let go of Jonathan.

  “Jess, no!”

  She fell, yanking the chain taut and pulling Jonathan downward after her.

  “Jess!” His eyes were full of terror.

  In a few seconds they were falling fast enough, and she yanked on the chain to bring him close to her again. They frantically grabbed for each other’s hands, and with the warmth of his flesh, weightlessness wrapped itself around Jessica again.

  Momentum carried them down toward the ground quickly, but with the soft pressure of midnight gravity.

  Jonathan wrapped his arms around her. Jessica realized she was shaking.

  “I never dropped anyone before,” he said quietly. “And now I’ve dropped you twice in one night.”

  The grass below them was turning green. They were at treetop level, and then their feet touched the ground lightly.

  Normal weight settled onto them a few seconds later.

  “Well, the third time’s a charm,” Jessica said. She was still shaking.

  They stood there, looking at each other.

  Finally they let go of each other’s hands.

  “Ouch,” he said softly.

  Jessica giggled, rubbing her hand. “Ouch is right.”

  Jonathan laughed out loud. “You’ve got one hell of a grip, Jess. My hand feels it got slammed in a door. Talk about clingy.”

  “Me?” she retorted, laughing too. “My hand feels like a truck ran over it.”

  They were both still laughing when the police car pulled up.

  15

  12:01 A.M.

  CURFEW

  The police car crunched onto the roadside, gravel popping out from under its tires as it slid to a stop.

  Jonathan clutched Jessica’s hand and instinctively bent his knees to leap, seeing in his mind’s eye the precise jump that would take them safely over the car and onto the roof of the house across the street. He could see the proper angle of landing and how the next leap would take them over to the next block and out of sight. Away to freedom.

  But his legs crumpled under him, and Jonathan remembered that he was heavy, leaden, earthbound. Flying time was over.

  Jonathan’s exhausted leg muscles could barely push him back to standing again. He doubted he could even make a run for it. For the next few minutes his body would feel like stone as it slowly readjusted to normal weight. Even breathing took effort in these horrible moments after the secret hour ended.

  A familiar claustrophobic feeling settled over him. He was trapped here in normal time. Trapped by the cops, by the Bixby curfew, by the suffocating, inescapable blanket that was gravity. Stuck like an insect drowning in glue.

  All Jonathan could do was squeeze Jessica’s hand.

  The police car’s doors opened, and a spotlight popped on, ripping into his eyes. He spun away, covering his face with his hands.

  “Think you can hide, Martinez?” a deep voice called, laughing. “I recognize your pretty face.”

  Jonathan’s heart sank, but he tried to make his answer sound brave. “Turn that thing off, St. Claire. We’re not going anywhere.”

  He heard the crunch of boots, then felt Sheriff Clancy St. Claire’s hand fall onto his shoulder. It felt like a hairy lump of lead clamping itself onto Jonathan, pushing him down into the quicksand that the ground had become.

  “Jonathan Martinez, you have never spoken truer words.”

  “Hey, Clancy, where do you suppose Martinez got himself a girlfriend?” another voice called from the car.

  “Hmm. Now, that is a puzzle.” Then St. Claire’s voice softened. “Man alive! What happened to you, girl?”

  Jonathan managed to open his eyes, squinting against the glare. Jessica looked dazed and battered, her face deathly pale in the spotlight. The knees of her jeans were stained with grass and blood, her hair wild from an hour of flying.

  “I fell down,” she said feebly.

  “You fell down? Sure, you did.” Jonathan felt the sheriff’s hand tighten on his shoulder. “I don’t believe I know you, honey.”

  “Jessica Day.”

  “And how old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “So, Jessica Day, I don’t suppose your parents know where you are?”

  The spotlight went dark, and Jonathan was blind for a moment in the sudden blackness. He heard Jessica’s breath catch as she tried to think of a way around the question. There was defeat in her voice when she finally answered.

  “No. They think I’m home in bed.”

  “Well, honey, that’s probably where you should be.”

  They sat Jessica down in the back of the police car while St. Claire talked on the radio for a while, waiting for more cops to arrive. The police in Bixby always liked to do things in overwhelming numbers.

  Jonathan wished he could talk to Jessica, even for a few moments. He wanted to explain that this was no big deal, really. The cops just took you home and woke your parents up. He’d been through the procedure seven times in the last two years, and it didn’t seem to get any worse than that. His dad would be grumpier than usual for a couple of days, but he’d told too many stories about his own wild days to stay angry at his son.<
br />
  “I’ve never been arrested, Dad, only detained and transported to parental custody.” Those were the magic words. Dad couldn’t say the same.

  Jonathan had a feeling, however, that Jessica had never taken a ride in a police car before. She sat in the backseat with her head in her hands, forlorn and unmoving, not looking over at him.

  It was horrible, being trapped here on the ground, unable to whisk her away. They’d survived being chased by the three biggest darklings he’d ever seen, only to be caught by a doofus like St. Claire. He felt helpless. And worse, he felt guilty, as if he’d dropped Jessica again. Three times in one night.

  It had been so wonderful before the darklings had appeared. He’d never had that much fun flying with anyone else. Jessica seemed to know instinctively how to jump, as if she were an acrobat herself, as if they were connected. The thought of them never flying together again felt like ice in his stomach. He doubted that Jessica would even want to talk to him after tonight.

  He took a deep breath, telling himself to be calm. He would go to her tomorrow midnight and make sure she was all right.

  Finally another pair of headlights crawled up. Two deputies drove Jessica home, and St. Claire pushed Jonathan into the back of the second car, squeezing in beside him.

  The weight of the large man flattened the springs of the backseat. Jonathan felt puny next to him. The deputy up front started the engine, and the car jolted onto the road.

  “You and me are going to have a talk, Jonathan.”

  “Yeah, it’s been too long, St. Claire.”

  The sheriff sighed, adjusting his bulk. He clapped and looked at Jonathan intently.

  “Now, boy, it’s one thing when you go wandering around all night by yourself. I don’t care much if anything happens to you out here.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “But getting a little girl like that into trouble is serious business.”

  Jonathan sighed with frustration. “I was just walking her home. We were okay until you showed up.”

  The sheriff’s meaty hand clamped onto his shoulder again, pushing him into the seat like extra gravity. The claustrophobic feeling built inside Jonathan.