The Gathering Dark

“I hope you’re right, because one of those guards broke your arm and kicked you in the head. Once you were unconscious, he left you bleeding on the floor. At least, I think it was blood.”


Walker rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah. It was probably blood. The dark matter particles that get mixed in make it look different. I remember one of the guards smashing into me . . . he broke my arm?”

“It was flopping like a fish,” Keira said.

Walker dropped his hand from his neck and held out his hands, twisting them from side to side, showing her that he was fine.

“How is that possible?” she asked with a croak of surprise.

“It’s the crossing,” Walker said. “In the same way it messes with your metabolism—the molecules in your body shift as you go through the barrier—it sort of resets them. You go back to the way your genes say you are supposed to be. I’m surprised you didn’t notice that the other night with your shoulder.”

Keira reached up and felt her shoulder, the one she’d painfully slammed into the coffee table when she’d first seen the Seeker at her house. It seemed like weeks ago, but it had been less than a day. She tugged the neck of her shirt aside, examining the skin. There was no bruise. She’d been sure it was going to bruise.

“How did I not notice that it was better?” she asked.

Walker wrapped his arm around her, sliding her shirt back into place. “You were maybe too busy freaking out about the fact that you’d crossed into another reality?” he suggested.

His teasing was gentle. She laughed shakily, letting his humor calm her.

“Speaking of which,” he said, “you must be hungry.”

She was. Her stomach twisted with hunger, but it was bearable. “Yeah, but I can wait awhile if we need to.”

Walker’s eyes widened in surprise. He pulled the keys from his pocket and aimed the fob at the car. “You’re adjusting fast. That’s . . . good. Surprising, but good.”

“Why is it surprising?” Keira asked, as she sank into the passenger seat. She reached down and flipped on the seat warmer. The leather heated up beneath her and after the cold concrete of the sidewalk, even the scratchy floor mats felt heavenly beneath her feet.

“The others who crossed—the other Experimentals—they always came back practically incoherent with hunger. Like you were last night, but even more. Eventually, they’d get a little better, but before any of them could . . . well, you know what happened.”

“The Extermination Program,” Keira said.

“Exactly,” Walker said. Keira saw him swallow, eating the words he didn’t want to say. “I think we should take a quick drive past the Hall on our way out of the neighborhood,” he said. “As long as you’re okay with that? I want to know just how many of the guards they called back.”

“There were an awful lot of them,” Keira said. “I saw at least a dozen, which was sort of surprising, because I thought they were all out at the ravine.”

Walker’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s my fault. I heard the transport vehicle and assumed they’d sent most of the guards to examine the new rip we’d made. I didn’t think they’d leave so many at the Hall. It’s like they knew we’d be back. . . . ”

“Well, I do live right behind it,” Keira said. “It makes sense that I’d come home sometime. Maybe that’s what they were waiting for?”

“Maybe,” Walker said, though he didn’t sound convinced. He slowed the car, idling on the side of the street. “Oh. Shit.”

Keira struggled to make Darkside visible. She could see Jeremy’s house, the darkened windows staring at her. Someone was in there, watching.

Jeremy.

Keira could feel it.

Beside her, Walker’s breath grew ragged, and she refocused, trying to see what he saw. Darkside appeared so quickly that, for a moment, she was afraid she’d actually crossed over. She grabbed the armrest, reassuring herself that she was still in her own world. Guards streamed past the car, along with people she assumed worked in the Hall of Records, since they were dressed in the same sort of robes that Smith had worn. Everyone was running.

Not just running.

Running away.

The building itself listed slightly to one side, like a ship against a sandbar. In the distance, robed figures stood against the trees that ringed the Hall with their heads in their hands. A few of them actually knelt, having collapsed into dark heaps on the ground.

Keira turned to Walker. “What’s happening?”

Walker looked almost exactly like her mother had, the day she’d announced that she and Keira’s dad were separating. His face was a wide-eyed mask of worry and suspicion and surprise.

Keira’s insides swirled and dropped.

“The building’s not safe anymore,” he said. “The whole area’s unstable.”