I’ll be in the dark again….I’ll be trapped….
A hand on my shoulder, squeezing tight. O’Malley leans in close and whispers.
“Hang on, Em. We’re almost there. Don’t be afraid.”
I breathe in deep, hold it, let it out slow. We’re not in the dark yet. I take my mind off it by talking, going over the last few elements of my plan.
“Smith, Beckett,” I call out. “Get up here.”
The two slide through the lines of kids. They both hold bone-clubs. Smith’s thin face is set and stern. She’s ready. Beckett looks like he might throw up.
“Keep the kids quiet and be ready to come when we call,” I say. “If the monsters attack, it’s up to you to hold them off long enough for the kids to get through the thicket tunnel.”
Smith nods. Beckett is sweating.
I know it’s risky leaving only two people to protect the kids. Matilda could attack at any time, but we need everyone else up front looking for the hole she used to enter the Garden.
I hear Bawden’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Em, the way is clear.”
Thank goodness, I’ll be in the light….
I take a final moment to address my friends.
“Remember to stay in your teams of four. Be as silent as you can, because the monsters might not know we’re here. If you find the entrance, shout it out. If any of you hear that shout, it means we’re done being quiet—get to that spot right away. If you see a monster with a bracelet, you must attack that one first. Do not hesitate. Does everyone understand?”
They all nod. They know this is their one chance to survive. They are as ready as they can be.
I push my spear through the hole, then follow it. I crawl into the pigs’ thicket tunnel. My friends are right behind me.
The curved roof’s light beams down. The fist in my chest eases, then fades. At least I’m out of the darkness.
I crawl out and stand under a fruit tree. It takes me a moment to spot the circle-stars, even though they are quite close. Their red-gray bodies blend in with the trees and shadows, making them nearly invisible.
I move left. My group moves with me: Spingate, Aramovsky and Gaston. I kept Spingate with me because I feel a need to protect her, make sure nothing happens to her. Gaston won’t leave her side, so I put him in my group rather than risking an argument in front of the others. As for Aramovsky, I can’t trust him—I’m not letting him out of my sight.
Bishop slides out from behind a tree. Without a word, he points to groups, then points where he wants those groups to go. He points at me, then to his chest, then to his right. As we planned, both of our groups will explore the area where Bello was taken. That is the most likely spot for Matilda’s hidden entrance.
Bishop’s group includes El-Saffani—of course—and also D’souza, the circle girl. She holds her bone like she’s afraid it will come to life and attack her. The four of them move quickly through the knee-high grass. My group follows.
The light above and grass below gives way to tree shade and creeping vines, then we slide into the thicker underbrush. Our feet crunch through brittle leaves, rotting fruit and dried twigs, making it hard to move quietly. Up ahead, I can barely see D’souza, and can’t see Bishop or the twins at all.
We reach the Garden’s thicket-covered wall. This is where it happened, where the monsters took Bello away.
The eight of us spread out, reaching hands through the thicket. The winding stems are so deep I have to turn my head to the side, press my cheek into them for my fingertips to reach the wall. Somewhere nearby, perhaps, one of us will feel empty space instead of stone.
“Em.”
A soft whisper, but it scares me so bad I yank my arm out, tearing the skin on thick vine-stalks. It’s Bishop. He moved up behind me and I never heard him coming.
My arm is scratched deep. A few drops of blood drip to the ground.
He points at my spear. “Use that instead,” he says, then walks a few feet away and starts poking his bone-club through the thicket.
I look at my spear as if I didn’t even know I had it. I push the spearpoint through the stems until it taps the stone wall. I try it again; it sticks in a vine somewhere I can’t see.
This is much better than reaching my arm in there.
I look over at Bishop and smile. He smiles back, his white eyes and white teeth bright against the red-gray of his caked-on dust.
A girl’s scream, from the right.
Bishop turns and sprints toward it, plowing through the underbrush. El-Saffani is right behind him. White-shirted D’souza has a moment of indecision, unsure whether to go or stay, then she chases after her group.
This is it…we’re going to fight. The thought of one of those things grabbing me, wrinkled black spider-hands holding me down…it’s almost enough to freeze me in place. Almost. This time, I won’t let the fear stop me.