The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (9 page)

I looked to her for permission before snatching up the book and nestling it inside my bag. “I will take good care of it, Mae, I promise.”

“I know you will, honey.” Her face filled with excitement as she looked over my shoulder. “Hey, will you look at that. The rain stopped.”

I turned around, confused. There was no blue sky just moments before. “It has. I guess I better go before I get stuck driving in it
again.”

“Take care, Zara.”

I was treading in the small puddles at the top of the stairs leading to the dock when my heart pumped again. Sharp pain rocketed through my body, making me jerk
upward.

“Augh!”

I grabbed at my chest and tried to rub away the pain as I staggered over to the railing. Between breaths I calculated the distance to my car. If I ran I could get there quickly enough; I could sit down before another attack. But then the agony spiked higher than ever before, and I collapsed to the
ground.

I was lying in darkness on sharp rocks and broken branches. I had turned my head up toward the moon that shone frothily in the dark blue sky when a loud scream shattered the silence.

“No, NO!”

There was pure fear in the voice, which came from a place I couldn’t see. Thick trees surrounded me, but I cocked my head, searching for it. Then the sound of a deep horn filled the air. There was sudden movement above. I looked up, past the tall trees, and my heart stopped.

There were hundreds of puffy clouds flying low toward the horn, except within the clouds I could see figures, their skin ropy with bones. There were no whites in their black eyes, which were set back in hollow sockets. I heaved, knowing that they were like the creature I saw when I crashed. I wrapped my arms tightly over my stomach as the voice—a girl’s—screamed
again.

“NO!” More urgent
now.

The thread of fear froze me, but when those black creatures dropped in the distance, I followed. I crept quietly over the rugged terrain, afraid I would be noticed, but as another horn blared I sped up. I was running steadily, dodging rocks and ducking under branches, when I saw a clearing a few paces
ahead.

I stopped atop a hill, above the valley where the creatures had gone. A massive pyramid crouched in its center, its tiered levels growing smaller as they rose, with steep stairs that climbed up one side. I snuck down the hill through a thick forest to the lake that surrounded the pyramid city. Ahead, a stone bridge stretched across the water, joining the land and the floating town. I moved along the trees until I reached the edge of the bridge, and when the last canoe had passed me, I ran as fast as I could over it and into the
city.

Canals wound through the smaller buildings that surrounded the pyramid, cut right up to the foundations like the channels of Venice. As I passed an odd tree with tangled roots that coursed above the hard dirt, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye—three of the city’s inhabitants walking toward me. I hustled to the shadow of one of the buildings. One walked almost close enough to touch, a male, I thought, speaking some unknown tongue to the other male-ish figures walking with him. I sucked in tightly and held my breath. Too mesmerized to shut my wide eyes, I saw the undead clearly.
I am doomed. I am stupid. I shouldn’t have
come.

The men appeared human, skin wrapped around their bones as it should be, but in full light, the skin appeared thin, and I could see formations of bone underneath. The tall one, his face covered in war paint, paused briefly. My heart stopped; my back burned as I forced it harder against the wall.
Where can I run if he sees me?
I looked over my shoulder to the right and then the left, then cursed silently. I had been so busy observing the three men that I hadn’t noticed that there were creatures everywhere: on the steps, in doorways, in canoes on the canals, and on every corner. There was no place to
run.

I glanced back to the one who had stopped. The other two had turned toward him, waiting as he bent down and messed with the back of his calf. Something was wrong with it. It was more sinewy than the other parts of his body. I squinted harder. His skin was completely transparent. I gasped, quickly throwing my hands over my mouth. None of them seemed to have noticed me. His long fingers massaged at it while he yelled in irritation. He slapped it a couple times, then straightened up. He balanced on his good leg and started shaking his leg. The ligaments and muscles underneath the skin of his calf began to fade away, and the skin became visible
again.

My sweaty hands slipped against my mouth. I didn’t move, though, as the three undead walked past me. As they turned a corner, I stepped away from the wall, surprised to have gone untouched and unnoticed.
Can they not see
me?

Suddenly stale smoke stirred in the air, and my gut wrenched. I’d never smelled anything worse in my life, but somehow I knew this stench. My hands flew back toward my nose to block the smell of burning
flesh.

A line of black smoke grew in the air near the pyramid. I swallowed against my heaving and stepped out of the shadow and into the orange light. A group of half-naked children with excited faces rushed past, showing no sign they had seen me.
How?
I could feel the hairs on my arms swaying in the wake of their movement as another cry circled in the air.
That
cry. And it was coming from the place the boys were running to. Wait. The whole town was moving toward the scream, toward the main pyramid.

I moved on the outskirts of the crowd, staying as far from them—and their shifty skin—as possible. When we entered the hollowed-out space surrounding the main pyramid, I could see the smoke rising from the right. The crowd gathered in tightly at the base of the temple and faced the ascending steps. I moved around them more easily now that they were focused on the pyramid, but stopped abruptly when I saw the smoking pile. Though already charred, the dismembered bodies, pieces of white bone shining through, shocked me. The limbs were small—my size—and I couldn’t stop the strong pulse deep within my stomach; the chest cavities looked as if they’d been ripped open.
And
where are the
heads?

I stepped back. Two men sitting on the ground a few feet away, their faces half covered in a thick red paste, were chewing noisily on something. My nostrils flared, and I could feel chunks clogging my throat as I watched one bring half a human arm to his hungry mouth. The other gnawed a piece of a leg already pocked with bite marks. I looked away for relief, but instead found the heads. They had been impaled on the spikes of the fence behind the two cannibals. There were too many heads to count, the fence extending deep into the trees, but I could tell which heads were the newer prizes by the fresh, dripping blood seeping from the necks. They were all young women, some with short, curly hair and others with long locks now matted over their faces with dried
blood.

I have to leave, now
.

I turned and
ran.

This isn’t the way. No, it’s this way.
When I ran into the same canal by a large rock formation twice, I knew I was lost, but at least the streets were empty. Then an abrupt screech echoed off the narrow stone walls. I needed to escape, but instead I was returning to the death trap, looking for higher ground. I climbed a short stone wall stained with deep burgundy streaks from the top down to the dark soil. The girl screamed again, louder.

The hovering creatures had landed at the base of the pyramid before the gathered crowd. The haze around them vanished, and their forms shifted to the unnerving, humanlike shape of the others. A few members of the crowd came forward and welcomed them with hugs and
kisses.

Then, as one, the crowd turned to stare at the entrance to the temple courtyard, parting to form a walkway. I was squinting, trying to make out the approaching figures, when the scream rang out again. Chills raced up my neck. It was the girl, dragged through the dirt by two of those creatures and followed by two more. The parted crowd watched; some cheered. She screamed and squirmed, thrashing against their grasp, but their grip was firm, and they began climbing the pyramid. Eventually, her legs weakened and dragged behind her, and I noticed the color of the steps. They were red and slick with wetness.
That’s odd—the girl didn’t look
bloody.

A man with long black hair, a bare chest, and large cape stepped out from the small room at the top and met them. The feathers bordering his collar were long and stiff; they poked some of the creatures that bowed before him. They held the girl still as he circled
her.

At his nod, the workers threw her onto the stone slab in the center of the pyramid’s peak. She flailed, but each grabbed a limb and yanked
hard.

No, please! Don’t!!

The feathered priest moved to stand behind her head and, without flinching, raised a dagger above her. Tears swelled in my eyes as he plunged the knife down and her pleading cry turned to an unbearable scream. I looked away just as her screams ceased. I covered my mouth, trying not to vomit as the cheers rose from below. When I wiped my tears and looked back, I wished I hadn’t. Her body was rolling down the steps, a fresh, red streak trailing behind
her.

I hopped off the ledge and hugged myself tightly as I backed away—and my shoulder was suddenly pushed back as if I had been hit. I stumbled for balance, but looked to see who pushed me all the
same.

“Zara!” There was another voice in the air, much softer than the horrifying screams that still echoed in my ears. I shuffled around, shaken, looking for the person touching me as my feet searched for solid
ground.

My other shoulder jerked back, my feet slid on the loose gravel, and I began to
fall.

“Zara!”

My eyes closed when I landed, but when they opened Lucas was there, close enough for me to smell his minty
breath.

“Zara!” His voice shook. “Are you
okay?”

It took me a moment to realize I was back at the pier, lying in Lucas’s arms, of all places. His arm was a firm bar under my back, supporting my weight. Cold sweat drenched my head, and I suddenly felt embarrassed.

I tried to sit up, but my head spun painfully.

“No, stay down for bit. You look really pale,” he ordered.

I tried to look around through the spinning. I wasn’t on the upstairs parking level anymore; I was at the bottom of the stairs near the water’s edge. “Did I . . .”

The inner corners of his eyebrows slanted together. “Fall down the stairs? Yes.”

“How long was I out
for?”

“Only a
minute.”

My hand throbbed. I tried to get a closer look at the red, swollen knuckles but whimpered in pain when I flexed them. Lucas moved in carefully, his eyes on the plump bruise, and without asking, he reached for my
hand.

A tingling sensation zapped me the instant our fingers touched. I jerked at first, causing his hands to press more firmly around my fingers, but my muscles eased as I watched him survey the damage. He gently turned my wrist a couple of different ways and then was quiet for a short second. Annoyed that I was still lying in his arms, it occurred to me that this guy always showed up when something bad happened. Thankfully, he finally let go, and my growing panic
eased.

“It’s not broken . . . that’s good,” he
said.

“How do you
know?”

“No bones are popping out in abnormal places. Can you move your fingers?”

Despite the pain, I flexed my fingers slowly. “Yes.”

“You’re okay, just a bruised hand. Do you think you can get up
now?”

I nodded. He was helping me to my feet when a soft ring sounded in his pocket. I jumped, still shaken from what I had seen. Lucas just let the phone ring as he gazed at me. I stared back, concerned about his guilty
look.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” I
asked.

“It wouldn’t be a good
idea.”

Before the voicemail could beep, the phone rang again. It sounded urgent. But this time Lucas irritably grabbed the phone, shut it off, and buried it deep in his
pocket.

“It sounded like it was important,” I said, brushing off
dirt.

“You’re more important; they just don’t get that
yet.”

“What did you
say?”

“Family stuff, don’t worry about it.” He paused and shifted his feet, avoiding my gaze. Then he rubbed his hand down his neck as color rose in his face. “Ah, dammit.”

“Excuse
me?”

He shook his head as if I’d misunderstood him and pinned his gaze on me. “You going to be okay?” His blue eyes showed only honest sincerity, but with the urgency of needing to
leave.

“Of course I’m going to be okay. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before,” I said, taking a tiny step up the stairs.
But it hasn’t. Not this bad. Not this
real.

I was trying to leave him behind, but Lucas moved after me with a sudden interest. “Blacking
out?”

I turned to him, frustrated that I felt safe sharing my secrets with the one person I didn’t trust. I sighed and looked away, wondering why I was going to tell him this. “I don’t just black out. I see
things.”

“What sort of
things?”

I looked at him defensively. “It’s only happened
twice.”

“What happens?” he pressed.

I paused, picturing the ways this could go badly, how stupid I must seem.
I’ll keep it simple.
“I go to a place where the sky is opposite of what it’s like here. And there’s a huge pyramid, like the ones in your country. I’ve seen them in our textbook.”

Lucas’s eyes grew wider, as if I’d startled him. His urgency was with me now and not the missed phone call. A warning burned inside me for some reason.
Leave, Zara.

“The sky, you said it’s opposite of how it is here?” he
asked.

“Yes.”

“What color was the
sky?”

I rolled my eyes, wondering why he cared about my weird hallucinations. “Orange.”

He paled, and he was suddenly very preoccupied with the ground and scratching his head. I was about to say something, but he cut me off, an urgent note in his voice. “We better get going. Do you feel well enough to drive, or should I drive you
home?”