Five: Out of the Dark (26 page)

I brushed at my face with both hands and felt a small rush of anger that while
he
could touch me whenever he wanted,
I
had to deny my instincts to comfort him. Irrational, I know, but nonetheless there.

“Paige, I’m sorry …” he started to say.

“Not. Your. Fault.” I said in a harsh whisper.
This is
my
fault, not yours.
I wiped at my face again.

“We should start for home before all the morning commuters come out,” Seth said, handing Johnathan his shoes.

Johnathan slipped them on and stood slowly, bones crackling. He pulled off his tattered, bloody shirt and replaced it with one Halli handed him.

The trek home was long, our feet splashed in puddles becoming larger by the minute thanks to the downpour that had started shortly after we left. We were all ready to collapse from our second night out of three with little or no sleep—and Johnathan more than the rest of us. His muscles continued to spasm every so often, and, even though he tried hard to hide it, I saw a painful grimace on his face each time.

Halli came up beside me. “Won’t it be suspicious that all four of you miss school today?”

I just shrugged. It didn’t matter. I doubted anyone would notice. Well, maybe Brendon and Mr. Grewa would. And Mr. Jorgenson. He seemed to notice a lot when it came to me. It still didn’t matter; there was no way any of us could go. It would be stupid to try—if something crazy was going to break loose, we would all be too tired to deal with it anyway.

The warmth of our dark Underground haven was a welcome thing. Seth led the way, his channeling rod shining with a
luminosity
spell—the same spell we used to light the old lamps with down in our living quarters. The glow it emitted was a little bit blue-tinged, but otherwise looked almost like fluorescent lighting.

My bed was a welcome sight. I took only enough time to change into dry clothes before I crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep.

one of us stirred the entire day. We all awoke in the late afternoon to noises in the room above us. It sounded like footsteps, only … louder. Like a dinosaur had been resurrected and was not happy about it, and was taking it out on the building above us.

We congregated at once in the common area. The huge rafters that had seemed so sturdy when we moved there were creaking like the planks of a ship caught in a gigantic whirlpool. Plaster chips fell from the ceiling. Small at first, and then larger. One the size of an open history book fell onto a table in the center of the room.

“What the he … heck is up there?” Alec asked.

“I’m afraid we’re going to find out one way or another real soon,” Johnathan said. “I’m thinking we’d better go up and see before whatever it is ends up down here with us.” As if to accentuate his point, a massive foot broke through the plaster on the other side of the room, across from the stairs. This foot was the size of a couch—a big one that, like, four people could sit on. It was bare except for a mass of hair and years of dirt and grime buildup.

We looked at each other, but no one moved for a full three seconds, then we all ran for our belts and channeling rods. The boys were quicker because their stuff was closer; mine was back in our room, as was Halli’s. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, they were at the top, disarming the wards and unlocking the padlocks. We caught up to them just as they opened the door.

The owner of the giant foot was still trying to wrangle said foot from the floor/ceiling, and not being quiet about the process. The stench that poured off the filthy, sweaty creature was a truly disgusting aroma reminiscent of rotting flesh and chicken poop.

Back to us, deep roars of frustration escaped its throat.

“What is that thing?” Halli whispered.

“I believe it’s an Ogre,” Seth whispered back.

“Hmm. Doesn’t look
anything
like Shrek,” Alec sounded so disappointed.

The Ogre’s biggest problem was that it was so
tall.
If it could have stood up straight, it would’ve had better leverage for a bigger tug. Frustration took over and it started to pound on the floor with a crudely made club as big as Halli, maybe bigger. We sneaked closer while it was still occupied and unaware of our presence. That didn’t last long. The giant foot popped free with the breaking of a board or two and the Ogre slammed the club down with a triumphant roar.

That’s when it saw Halli off to the side. Good thing she could move somewhere between the speed of sound and the speed of light. The Ogre whipped the club around, amazingly fast for its size, and was denied the pleasure of cracking open her skull by the width of a few hairs. She somersaulted away, landing on her feet a couple yards out of the club’s reach.

The five of us spread out equal distances apart, far enough away that it couldn’t hit any of us without taking a step. Rotating in a slow circle, the monster looked at each of us in turn. I got the feeling that Ogres weren’t very smart—the slack-jawed look, drooling spittle, and inarticulate grunting were clues. Apparently deciding Johnathan was the biggest threat, it raised the massive club and took a hunched step toward him. Bent almost ninety degrees at the waist, its back dragged on the ceiling.

“
Argh, shtoopud hooman childs!
” the Ogre roared.

Johnathan dodged the blow with little effort, and while the Ogre was occupied with him, the rest of us went into motion.

“Giant formation!” I yelled. This was a tactic we’d practiced many times since barely surviving our first contact with a large and ugly Troll. Trolls were faster and smarter than Ogres, which was becoming more and more apparent, so I figured we could easily out-maneuver this dumb Ogre—especially in such a confined space.

Halli and I moved behind the monster, with Alec and Seth on either side. Its focus remained on Johnathan, who kept it occupied with quick little attacks at its feet.

I watched closely, as did Halli, for the Ogre’s next move forward. Johnathan, seeing we were in position, provoked the monster by shooting a searing blue flame at a bare big toe. The Ogre let out a deep, angry yowl, smacked its head on the ceiling, and started to take a huge shuffling step toward Johnathan. That was the cue for Halli and me to attack. We simultaneously pointed our channeling rods at the enormous ankles and yelled, “
Tangle pedicus.”
The plan worked great—all except for one thing. The massive Ogre did, indeed, trip over our spell—which was exactly our intent. But as it tripped, the arm that wasn’t holding the club stretched out and pinned Johnathan beneath giant fingers.

We all started toward him, but I motioned for Alec and Seth to stay put. They had a job to do. While they wove a lashing spell around the legs of our attacker, Halli and I ran to where Johnathan was splayed beneath the giant outstretched hand. He struggled, trying to push himself out from under it with no success. The veins in his neck and face bulged with the effort, ready to burst; his face was bright red. I freaked out when the Ogre started to close its hand around him, only Johntathan’s head and shoulders visible above the encircling fingers. I heard bones cracking.

I didn’t know the Latin phrase for
Let go, you big, stupid Ogre,
so I just improvised by envisioning what I wanted and sending my will blasting at the hand that was crushing Johnathan.

“Open!” I yelled, in case my visualization wasn’t enough to let the spell know what the plan was.

A split second later, I heard Halli yell, “Loose!” unleashing a spell of her own.

With a spasm that shook the room, the Ogre’s fingers flew open and Johnathan was free. The Ogre let out a surprised grunt and moved the disobeying hand in front of its eyes to examine it. Johnathan wasn’t moving away very fast, which meant he was either hurt or in shock.

We each hooked an arm under his armpits, hauling him backwards several yards before the Ogre could notice and react. The boys must have successfully completed their lashing spell, because the giant beast tried to rise up to its knees but couldn’t because its legs were stuck together from crotch to feet and its knees wouldn’t bend. It flipped onto its back with astounding agility and swung the club in a wide circle in an attempt to take out Alec and Seth. They dove out of the way.

In a flash, the Ogre flipped back over and reached for Johnathan again, as if suddenly remembering he was the prize it wanted. Halli and I gave one last Herculean effort and tugged Johnathan far enough away that the tips of its fingers just grazed his feet. We’d both fallen to our butts with our last pull and Johnathan still wasn’t reacting as he should.

“Halli, cover us,” I directed.

She nodded and turned to face the giant Ogre. The contrast in their sizes was almost comical. But Halli was a formidable opponent. There was never a time I wasn’t glad we were on the same team. It was like having our own little magical Tasmanian Devil when she unleashed on something.

And that’s exactly what she did. The Ogre never had a chance, really. I turned my attention to Johnathan and in the next moment the Ogre was nothing but a
huge
pile of super-smelly, green ichor splattered everywhere—all over the dilapidated room and all over us—especially Halli, who’d been standing right in the center of the splash zone. It was a really good thing that stuff wasn’t toxic.

I wanted to know what attack she’d used, but I decided I could find out later. I needed to see why Johnathan was still not responding appropriately. This whole interaction—from the time we pulled Johnathan away from the furniture-sized fingers to the Ogre-explosionfest—was less than thirty seconds.

When I finally got a good look at Johnathan, shining
star-bright
right down on him, I gasped. His lips had turned an awful blue color and I could see the cords in his neck straining with each attempt to pull air into his lungs.

I used my super-human, adrenaline-powered strength to rip his shirt down the middle. “Oh,” I croaked.

The whole left side of his torso was misshapen and bruising at an incredible rate. Almost every rib on that side appeared to be broken, and while the right side of his chest rose and fell with each grueling breath, the left side didn’t move. That meant, I realized, he had a collapsed lung. The pressure was building on the collapsed side, which crowded the right side, making it more and more difficult for him to suck in any air at all. Recognizing the problem was a start. But I had no idea what to do about it.

My slime-splattered companions raced over and knelt beside Johnathan and me.

“What’s wrong with him?” Alec asked.

“Collapsed lung,” I said.

“He doesn’t look so good,” Seth said. “What should we do?”

I hated that they all turned to me for an answer. The only thing I could think of to do was call an ambulance—and we couldn’t do that. First of all, we had no phone. We also had no parents or guardians, and that would be a huge problem if the authorities found out. Foster care was not somewhere any of us wanted to end up. Also, the whole technology-ruining thing was a big problem in a hospital. Not that any of these reasons would have stopped me from calling, had a phone been available.

I didn’t have an answer. Something tickled the edges of my memory. Something about
decompression
. I remembered a lecture in an advanced first aid class I’d taken, but it hadn’t really been part of the class. The paramedic instructor was just trying to impress us with his feats of medical heroism. Andy, that was his name, I remembered—amazing the things you think of in times of great crisis. I concentrated hard, trying to remember exactly what he’d said.
Needle decompression, between the second and third ribs in line with the middle of the collarbone on the affected side,
the voice of the cocky but cute instructor came back to me.