Awoken (10 page)

The stonesong surged, and the walls trembled. Bricks cracked like firecrackers, and a cloud of crushed mortar exploded from the walls, filling the air with choking dust.

The hounds growled at the shaking walls, moving closer to the center of the alley. Bricks and chunks of brick pummeled them with jagged, heavy rain. The dumpster flipped over, pinning the hind leg of one of the Ven. The trapped hound gave a funny sort of yip.

Immediately, two of the other dogs rushed over. Wiggling their heads under the dumpster, they lifted the heavy container from the ground. The trapped hound limped free, and the hounds released the dumpster, which fell with a resounding crash.

A broken chunk of brick struck Lina’s forearm, opening a thin gash. “Ouch,” she cried, ducking her head as more bricks began to shatter on the pavement around them. “What are you doing? Drop the rocks on the dogs, not us.”

“I’m trying.” Michael replied through gritted teeth. “Be quiet and let me do this.”

He focused the stonesong above the dogs, pushing at the bricks. A five-foot section broke free from the wall, smashing down to bury the lead hound.

Michael started to smile, but ended up wincing instead as a jagged piece of mortar struck his hand. The stonesong was breaking
everything
. If he didn’t stop the hounds soon, he and Lina were going to get their heads split open. Or worse.

Grimly, he sent out the stonesong again, breaking away more bricks and dropping them on the hounds. The dogs were quick and tough. They dodged much of the falling debris, or simply absorbed the damage and kept coming.

“This isn’t working,” Michael said at last. “The walls are coming apart. We have to figure out another way out of this.”

“I think you’re right.” Lina slapped a brick out of the air before it struck his head. “But how? This is a dead end.”

How would they get away? Michael closed his eyes, pushing himself deeper into the music of the stones. There had to be a way out of here, a cellar door, or a bricked-over window he could uncover with the stonesong, something he could—

His eyes snapped open. “Lina, there’s an old fire escape right above us.”

Lina looked up. “I don’t see a fire escape.”

He pointed to a six-inch rusted bar jutting from the brick twenty feet overhead. “All that’s left is part of the ladder. Can you jump that high?”

Lina pulled Michael into a tight hug.

“Hold onto me.”

He threw his arms around her neck. The dogs charged. The waystone blazed in Lina’s palm as she sprang into the air, Michael hanging from her neck. The hounds crashed into the wall, snapping teeth missing their prey by mere inches.

Lina’s leap brought them just short of the rusted bar, and she grabbed at it with both hands. Her right hand brushed against it and slipped, and then her left hand caught and held. The two of them swung into the side of the building, letting out twin grunts at the impact. Lina kept her grip, however, and they hung together from the bar like a bizarre Christmas ornament.

Michael let his forehead fall against Lina’s shoulder. “My hero,” he said in a breathy whisper. His stomach gave a nauseating lurch, and he gulped. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I don’t care, just grab the bar.” Lina’s voice strained. “You’re heavy.”

“Oh, right.”

He made a snatch at the bar, but his vision blurred, and he missed. He tried again, but suddenly his arm was too heavy to lift. He blinked owlishly. Why was it getting so dark?

“Just one…sec.”

“Hurry, Mike. I can’t hold on much longer.”

The rusted bar snapped, and Michael was falling. Below, the hounds opened their jaws wide to greet him.

Nabal picked up the booby-trapped briefcase and pulled at the torn shirtsleeve drooping over his wrist. Changing form was always the devil on clothes. He tore the rags of the shirt and jacket from his shoulders and flipped them into the corner. Bare-chested, he closed the briefcase lid, then turned and bowed to the unconscious Wiffles like a Shakespearean actor.

“Tell you something, folks, that boy of yours is full of surprises.” Straightening from the bow, he smiled. “By the way, I’m afraid I have some rather bad news. Your house just caught fire. Not to worry, you’ll both survive. The fire department is going to find you both safe and sound on the front lawn. Kind of a miracle, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Why do you play these games?”

The man who’d spoken stepped through the front door into the house. The newcomer wore a matching black suit and sunglasses. He was near Nabal’s height, though of slighter build, and perhaps a decade younger than his shirtless colleague.

Nabal spread his hands innocently. “What’s wrong with a little fun, Vincent? I still get the job done.”

“Your behavior is sloppy and unprofessional,” said Vincent. His gaze swept the room, barely pausing on the two bodies near the door. “I still can’t believe you let the kid get away. Dr. Equinox is going to skin you alive.”

“Let me worry about Equinox. Did you dispatch the hounds?”

“Of course I dispatched the hounds. Do I look like an idiot?”

“Do you really want me to answer that, amigo?” Nabal asked. “Quit screwing around and have these two lovebirds dragged outside. We’ll torch the place, find the kid, and get back to the Farm before breakfast. We’re in a bit of a hurry, so be a good doggy and hurry up.”

Vincent’s expression darkened.

Nabal raised an eyebrow. “You look upset, Belua Vincent. Was it something I said?”

Vincent took an angry step toward Nabal, and then stopped. Abruptly, he reversed direction and stomped toward the door. A cheerful drawl stopped him in his tracks.

“That was smart, Vincent, real smart,” said Nabal. “Because you’re new, I’m even going to let that one go.” His smile collapsed into a hard, thin line. “But if you ever question me again, I will rip out your heart. Do you understand?”

The blood drained from Vincent’s cheeks, and he slowly nodded.

“Excellent.” Nabal’s customary grin reappeared as if by magic. “I’m glad we understand each other. Let’s just forget this conversation. After all, we’re family. And brothers like us shouldn’t quarrel. I’ll bet if we try real hard, you and me can be just as tight as Cain and Abel. Now, have Saul take care of these two. Oh, and give me your communicator.”

With trembling fingers, Vincent unclipped the button-sized communicator from his collar and handed the device over, along with his earpiece.

“Thanks, Vincent,” Nabal said. “You can go.”

Without another word, Vincent hurried out of the house.

Nabal pushed in the earpiece and then tapped the communicator’s activator twice.

The earpiece crackled to life. “Farm operator,” said a man’s voice. “Code check, please.”

“This is Belua Nabal, Flintville mission. Get me Dr. Equinox.”

“It’s after midnight here, Belua Nabal. Dr. Equinox is indisposed.”

Nabal chuckled. “If you mean he’s asleep, then you had better wake him up. I’ve got information he’ll want right away.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Belua Nabal,” said the operator. “Relay the message to me, and I’ll be sure the doctor receives the information as soon as he’s available.”

“All right,” Nabal said. “Tell him I’ve located the new Awoken, along with a pure human meld.”

There was a brief silence on the line, and then, “I’ll connect you to Dr. Equinox immediately, Belua Nabal.”

Nabal removed a small bottle from his pants pocket and twisted off the cap. “I just bet you will, amigo.” Tilting back his head, he poured a dozen pills into his mouth and started to chew. “I just bet you will.”

Michael groaned and tried to go back to sleep. He wished those birds would be quiet. Their incessant chirping was like a hundred high-pitched alarm clocks in his ears.

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbled, covering his head with his pillow.

Except this wasn’t his pillow, no more than the lumpy mattress was his bed. Where?

The dogs, the alley—they were falling!

“Lina!”

A callused palm pressed down on his forehead. “You’re okay, Mike. Lina’s right here. You’re both safe.”

A shaggy blur in front of him gradually became a grizzled and familiar face. “Diggs?” he breathed. “What…where am I?”

The drifter smiled and took his hand from Michael’s forehead. “You’re in a motel room. How are you feeling?”

“A motel? How did I get here? Last thing I remember, Lina and I were about to be dog food.”

“No wonder you woke up yelling.” Diggs chuckled. “Well, our little dollman friend told me you were in trouble the other night. I was coming to help when I saw you and Melina run into that dead-end alley ahead of the hounds. So, I grabbed a rope and climbed onto the barbershop roof, hoping I could hoist you out of there before the dogs got you. When I got to the end of the alley, you two were hanging just a couple of feet below me. All I had to do was pull you up. Although things would have been easier had that bar you were hanging from held a bit longer.”

“I don’t remember any of that.” Michael scrubbed his face with his palms and then looked around the room.

Chipped blue paint covered the walls, and a set of ragged curtains that might have once been green hung over the window. The place smelled of old cigarettes and fast food, and there were blotchy stains on the grey carpet so old they overlapped in places. There were two doors. The one leading outside was closed. The other was open a crack, showing the interior of a small bathroom.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days.” Lina stepped out of the bathroom. “About time you woke up.”

Michael’s eyes widened. Lina was so pale her skin almost glowed, and her hair bore at least twice as much silver as he remembered. He spoke without thinking. “What happened to you?”

Lina’s green eyes went frigid. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. This is all your fault.” She lifted her silver-crusted palm. “You and this stupid rock.”

“Don’t say that,” Michael snapped harshly. Checking himself, he took a deep calming breath before continuing in a softer tone. “I’m sorry about the waystone, Lina, but I never meant for you to find the necklace. What’s happening to you is not my fault.”

“Not your fault?” Lina mocked. “Do you know why I look like this, Mike, why my skin is hard as rock and my hair is turning to steel?”

Diggs shot her a look. “Not now, Melina.”

“He needs to know.”

Michael sat up in bed. “What do I need to know? What are you talking about, Lina?”

“The stonesong,” said Lina. “I’m changing like this because you used the stonesong.”

“That’s a lie. Tell her, Diggs. Tell her she’s wrong.”

Diggs coughed into his hand and went over to the table. “We’ll get to that later, Mike.” He picked up a folded newspaper. “We have other things to talk about.”

Diggs hadn’t answered him.

No. It wasn’t my fault
.

Michael looked at Lina. Hard accusation smoldered in her sea-green eyes. “I have to use the bathroom.” Jumping out of the bed, he rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

After answering nature’s call, he flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet in the rust-stained sink. Using the thin wedge of soap left there, he washed his hands and then splashed some of the lukewarm water onto his face. He turned off the water. A dingy blue towel hung next to the sink, but the cloth was covered in greasy spots. He dried his face with the bottom of his shirt instead.

When he was finished, he stared into the smudged mirror at his reflection. “She’s wrong. If she would have minded her own business… She’s not your responsibility.”

His eyes flickered silver, as if putting the lie to his words. When he came out of the bathroom, Lina was gone. Diggs sat next to the table, and a dollman perched atop the TV.

The dollman bowed as he entered. “This one greets you, Awoken.”

“Ah, thanks.” Michael gave Diggs a questioning look. “Where’d he come from? And what happened to Lina?”

“This one protects the Awoken,” said the dollman proudly.

“The dollman has been with us since I saved you. When you woke, he was sleeping under your bed.” Diggs motioned to a chair. “Have a seat. Lina went for a walk, at my suggestion. She needs some time to clear her head, and she and I have already been over what I’m going to tell you.”

Michael sat down in one of the three chairs. “Is it true what she said? Did I cause her to… change?”

Diggs sighed heavily. “Not exactly, Michael. You see, the silvery substance surrounding the gem in Lina’s hand is pure earthbone. There is a peculiar and powerful link between the earthbone and the stonesong, a symbiotic connection that, I admit, I don’t fully understand. I do know the stonesong grows stronger when close to earthbone. During your escape, you merged with the earthbone in Lina’s palm. In so doing, you somehow accelerated her mutation.”

“You mean those times when her palm lit up?”

“The light was the waystone reacting to the stonesong. You couldn’t have known.”

Michael felt sick. “What’s happening to her?”

Diggs blew out the ends of his long mustache. “Her hair and increased skin density indicate mutation at a cellular level. Where that will end is anybody’s guess. Quite honestly, she’s lucky to be alive.”

“Why do you say that?”

“A fraction of the earthbone in Lina’s body would have killed most organisms,” Diggs replied. “Like you, Mike, she is a pure human meld. Ven will want her as badly as they want you.”

The dollman hopped from the TV to the table. “The thief is becoming.”

Michael looked to Diggs for translation.

The drifter shrugged. “I have no idea.”

The dollman scraped a claw across the surface of the table, carving a deep groove into the Formica and then examining it with childlike curiosity.

Michael rapped his knuckles on the table to get the creature’s attention. “What is Lina becoming?”

“The thief has tasted the earth and bone.” The dollman didn’t look up from the table. “If the elders do not sing the waystone free soon, she will become as the People.”

Michael dug his nails into his palm.