CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Russell:
I watched that blasted dog video, over and over. Until it turned into a vintage Twilight Zone episode. Until both dogs trotted off into the dark night. Like a pair of invincible hounds of hell.
I think Marguerite may have said something, but whatever it was, it didna€?t register. It wasna€?t until I heard Pete cry out that I realized something was going on.
a€?Hey, dona€?t opens that doora€”a€?
I glanced at Pete, saw a startled expression on his face. Then his knees buckled beneath him and he crumpled to the floor. The look of astonishment froze on his face.
a€?What thea€”a€? I swung around, instinctively shielding Isabelle.
The front door hung open, and a gang of gutter thugs had slithered into the room. They moved with strange, jerky movements, sometimes holding still, sometimes magically appearing halfway across the room. A veil of color slid between us, a glittery orange, and then an awful panic rolled over me, the realization that all this was beyond my control.
a€?Margueritea€”a€? It was all I could say, every syllable exaggerated and stiff.
My skin prickled and I caught a whiff of something honey-sweet.
She was beside me then, taking Isabelle in her arms. a€?Ia€?m sorry, Russ,a€? she said.
Then I saw a yellow-feathered dart sticking out of my arm, felt my muscles melt like butter. I sagged to the floor, not as quick as Pete. Maybe they gave him something stronger.
a€?Puts him in a chair and ties his arms.a€? An apocalyptic voice. Malevolent. Foreboding. Familiar.
An army of hands lashed me to a chair. Trails of light followed robotic creatures as they darted across my line of vision. Had we been invaded by humans or machines? I forced my thoughts to stay focused on Isabelle. Turned my head to follow her, saw her cradled in Margueritea€?s arms.
a€?Daddy, I wanna see Daddy!a€? she screamed, squirming to get down.
a€?Go aheads. Lets her down. Lets her say good-bye.a€? That voice again. This time connected to a face. Murky green eyes, bald head covered with metal studs. Neville. My personal path of destruction. I wasna€?t surprised to see him. I had been dreading his arrival.
A glowing Isabelle scampered across the room, light flowing from the tips of her fingers and hair. a€?Daddy,a€? her voice echoed as she burrowed her face in my chest.
a€?We needs to talk.a€?
I glanced up, saw Neville guiding Marguerite to the balcony. The two of them were alone out there. He was telling her something and she was arguing with him, a look of bewilderment on her facea€”
No.
I couldna€?t say anything. My vocal cords wouldna€?t respond to the command I was screaming. Terror flooded my heart, a tidal wave that rolled over me, over Isabelle. Fear and anger filled the room, a crest that surged, that swallowed all hope.
No, Marguerite, dona€?t go out there with him, dona€?t trust him. I didna€?t mean it, I would never hurt you, I couldna€?ta€”
But they werena€?t arguing anymore. He glanced at me, lips creasing into a wicked grin. Then he turned back to Marguerite, lifted her in his arms.
And dropped her over the edge of the balcony.