She caught a flash out of the corner of her eye, looking up just in time to see a spinning rod of metal right before
it slammed into her shoulder. She fell again, and a boxy contraption plummeted from the sky, landed on its corner, then fell over to pin her legs to the floor. She pushed at the smashed box with both hands, but couldn’t move it off her feet.
The sounds of destruction intensified—crashing, banging, exploding, breaking. Objects of all sizes fell from the false sky like the world’s worst hailstorm, smashing to pieces all around her. The volume of noise pierced her ears, threatening to break her ear drums.
Sofia saw the long rod of metal that had smacked her shoulder nearby. She squirmed awkwardly until she could reach it; she grabbed it, pulled it close. The rod was twisted and curved like a crowbar. Wedging one end under the clunky, destroyed box that used to be part of who-knew-what awful invention of Chu’s empire, she pushed on the other end of the lever with both arms, gathering every ounce of strength left inside her. At first nothing moved, but she let out a scream of effort, throwing every part of her into getting that stupid thing off—
The metal box toppled over with a sound lost in the symphony of destruction filling the gigantic chamber.
Sofia got to her feet, ignoring the throbs of pain lancing through her legs. Half-limping, half-running, she went after Tick. He was so close, still spinning in circles, stumbling, shouting things Sofia didn’t understand. He looked like a man who’d lost his mind. Falling objects from the ceiling were deflected at the last minute as though a shield protected him from harm. Sofia ran on, zigzagging and stumbling herself.
She reached Tick, tackling him to the ground. “Tick, what’s wrong with you?”
“It burns!” he screamed. “Someone help me! I can’t control it! Someone help me!”
Sofia didn’t think he even knew she was there. She fumbled in her pocket, panic making her hands shake. She felt around, grasped the silver pen, pulled it out.
“My brain is splitting!” Tick screamed, thrashing around, hitting her.
Sofia didn’t know exactly what the pen would do to him, or if it would hurt, or how long it would affect him. She didn’t know anything for sure. But she had to do it.
“Tick, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She jabbed the end of the pen into Tick’s neck and pushed the button. A quick hiss sounded as Tick’s head jerked and hit the floor. His body went limp.
Everything went still—the shaking, the crashing, the ripping, the bending.
Everything stopped.
The only sound was a woman still screaming in the distance.
Chapter
48
~
Out of the Rubble
Paul grunted as he moved another chunk of black glass off the pile.
“Isn’t there another way in?” he asked.
“Ain’t nary a one that ain’t blocked!” Sally shouted, lifting a piece the size of a large suitcase. He threw it and Paul watched it split into several pieces upon landing.
Then Paul noticed the silence.
“Hey . . . hey!” he shouted.
Everyone else quit working, looking about.
“It’s ruddy well stopped, it ’as,” Mothball said, a crooked-toothed grin breaking across her face.
Paul ran away from the pile, craning his neck to look up at the mountain as he got farther away. Though full of cracks and missing pieces, the building wasn’t shaking or falling apart anymore. The ground wasn’t trembling. The air had grown still and silent, the dust already settling to the ground.
“Sofia did it,” Mothball said, waving Paul back over to help. “Come on, gotta clear this pile. Gotta find ’er and Master Tick.”
Encouraged for the first time in awhile, Paul sprinted back and started sorting through the rubble with renewed vigor, knowing his hurt arm would be some kind of sore tomorrow. Piece after piece, chunk after chunk, the Realitants worked together until a shaft of light escaped from within. They’d found a way through.
“We did it!” Paul shouted, grabbing more pieces. Soon they had a hole big enough for them to enter the damaged building.
Mothball went first, then Sally, then Paul and the other Realitants. They regrouped inside, sweeping their weapons back and forth in case of an attack. There wasn’t a sign of anyone or anything dangerous, only dust and debris.
“Come on, let’s—” Paul started to say, then stopped when he saw movement up ahead in the hallway. He couldn’t make it out at first—it looked like an injured animal crawling along, slide-and-stop, slide-and-stop.
But then the dust settled and the figures came into the light. Everything became clear.
It was Sofia, her back to them, dragging Tick’s battered body down the broken hallway.
~