As Chloe swerved her truck out of Bay Avenue and up 7th Street, she mentally ran through the plan. Nothing fancy: sneak into the garage, break into David's gun cabinet, grab a handgun plus a metric ton of ammo, then get back to the junkyard before anyone catches wise. If all went well, she'd be back before Max could wake up and worry.
Frowning, she peered through the windshield at the sky above. There wasn't a hint of blue anywhere in that layer of gray. And the air felt charged, eager to bring on the thunder and rain. Well, that's Rachel's prerogative. Bitch better not make it hard for me to get back.
...I wonder what she's doing now. Would she be looking for the Twins all by herself again? Once I get a gun, maybe I can help her smoke them out...or maybe I should stay put and be Max's bodyguard. Fuck, why do I have to choose?
It made sense to stay with Max. They were relatively safe in the junkyard, and with her powers, Rachel was the only one who could realistically stand up to the gorilla man and his brain-scrambling twin. But even then, victory wasn't a sure ball—so wouldn't it make more sense if she backed Rachel up so that they could take out all the threats in one go?
She shook her head. Focus, Price. One thing at a time—you gotta get the gun first.
At least obtaining it wouldn't be difficult. David was on shift and wouldn't be back for another three hours. That would give her plenty of time to pick his gun locker and get her hands on an insurance policy care of Messieurs Smith and Wesson. She owed Frank for teaching her the basics of shooting, back when they weren't ready to kill each other on sight. Seems like a thousand years ago now.
Her phone rang as she turned into Cypress Street, derailing her train of thought. A quick glance as she picked it up from the seat told her it was an unknown number. Now who the hell would...?
She tapped the answer button. "Yeah?"
"Chloe Price?" asked a familiar voice.
"Who's asking?" Her mind grappled for a name. "Wait. Is this Brooke?"
"Yes, it's me." Brooke's voice sounded clipped and on edge. "Listen, Chloe, I really need your help."
That's a first. "What's going on? And how'd you get my number?"
"Rachel gave it to me yesterday, after Jul—after the fire." Brooke cleared her throat. "She said you could help me with the laptop."
Chloe's eyes popped open. "The laptop?"
"I need to get it out of Blackwell. She said you could get rid of it for me."
"Yeah, but—" Chloe bit her lip. "Can't this wait? I'm in the middle of something."
"It really can't. I've got it with me and I'm actually getting on a bus now. Could we meet somewhere so you can take it off my hands?"
"Hold up!" This needed her full attention. Chloe pulled over at the curb. "Can't you stash it somewhere in Blackwell for a day or so? And why can't Rachel get rid of it?"
"No. Your step-dad Paul Blart decided it was his job to search the whole school, and if he finds this it's straight to the cops for me. And I've tried getting to Rachel but she's disappeared and hasn't been picking up her phone all day! The last thing she said to me was that you could help.
"Chloe, I'm asking you to help keep me out of jail. Will you do it?"
Chloe dredged a breath out of her lungs. "Okay, look. Where do I meet you?"
"The bus stop at the corner of 6th Street and Arcadia Bay Avenue. There's a parking lot there where we can meet. I'm heading there now."
"Fine."
"Okay, great. And Chloe? Thank you. You're saving my life here."
They hung up and Chloe thought it over. It was just a small detour; the stop was just five blocks away. If they were quick about it, she'd be back on track in ten minutes or less.
The things I gotta fuckin' do, she thought as she shifted the truck back into gear.
The parking lot Chloe pulled into was mostly deserted. She parked in the closest space to the bus stop, killed the engine, then put her feet on the dashboard and waited. She had just enough time to enjoy a smoke before the school bus arrived and a familiar hoodie-clad girl jumped down onto the curb.
"Finally." Chloe threw away her cigarette as she stepped out of her truck. "You sure my step-douche didn't follow you?"
Glancing furtively over her shoulder, Brooke hurried toward her. "Don't tell me what you're doing with it," she muttered, holding her bag out. "Just get rid of it, quick."
"Yeah, okay, calm down, Lisbeth Salander," Chloe replied as she took the item. "The junkyard's a big place. I can lose—"
Brooke jumped as a black SUV swerved into the parking lot and screeched to a halt. Looks like someone needs to hit the can right fucking now, thought Chloe, frowning. Her heart stopped when the driver's side door opened and out stepped the biggest, strangest-looking man she had ever seen. Black suit, long white hair, a face you could smash rocks with—he looked like a grown-up kid from the Village of the Damned.
But it was when the similarly pale-haired woman wearing shades stepped out from the passenger side that Chloe turned white with terror.
"See, Alrik?" the woman said, grinning her Cheshire grin as she gazed at Brooke. "Told you we'd get something if we followed Ms. Scott." She turned her shaded eyes to Chloe. "And you there, with the lovely hair and the rebel get-up. Chloe Elizabeth Price, am I right?"
Chloe shoved at Brooke's shoulder. "RUN! DON'T LOOK AT HER!" Brooke didn't need any prodding; eyes wide with fear, she made to leap over the parking lot railing. Chloe lunged for her truck's door—only for an iron hand to clamp down on her shoulder. She hadn't even seen the man move! He turned Chloe around as easily as if she had been sitting on a swivel stool. To her dismay, Brooke was also caught, frozen in place with the man's hand on her neck.
"Ah, ah, none of that." The woman—Maja—slipped under her twin brother's arm and stood with her face up close to Chloe's. She wasn't wearing her shades anymore. "I need you both to be cooperative, kjære. We're all friends here."
Her eyes were the most horrific things Chloe had ever seen in her young life—two oceans of black disturbed by tiny islands of sickly yellow that could only be her irises. Even as Chloe realized this, colors spread out from them like light reflecting off an oil slick.
A terrible weight settled on Chloe's mind—a dark moon that blotted out the sun and fell upon her. The crushing pressure made her gasp. Still, she pushed desperately against it, knowing what failure meant for Rachel. For Max.
"My goodness, what a strong will you have." The colors burned even brighter in her head. "But you're only an inconvenience, girl. I can break you—and I will."
The pressure hammered on Chloe's mind and her last hold-out thoughts snapped beneath its weight. Her shoulders slumped and her face slackened.
"Hey, hey!" An old man had spotted them from the sidewalk and was waving his stick at them. "What's goin' on over there?"
"Tell him everything's fine," Maja ordered as Alrik released his grip on them.
Brooke instantly turned to the passer-by, smiled, and waved. "We're good, sir. We're rehearsing a scene for a film."
The old man stared at her, warily at first, then seeing nothing else was happening, put his cane down and walked away in embarrassment.
"Good girls. Now that that nonsense is out of the way—" Maja slipped her shades back on and dusted her hands. "To business. We'll be taking that." She motioned to the backpack and Chloe handed it over to the tall man. He opened it up, inspected the laptop, then nodded to his twin.
"Wonderful!" Maja stretched her arms over her head, cracking her joints. "It seems to me, Chloe Elizabeth Price, that you know about our powers. Might I ask where you got that information?"
Chloe nodded. "Rachel told us. She learned it from Sean Prescott."
"Oooh, a conspiracy!" the woman laughed as she turned to her twin. "Prescott betraying Dionysus was not terribly unexpected, was it, Alrik? But to ally with an Incarnate...that man has serious balls."
She turned back to Chloe. "Who else knows about us?"
Something shifted in Chloe. She knew that she was doing something horrible. But the woman's words held her down, stronger than gravity.
"My friend—M-Max Caul-Caulfield. And—and Lulu."
"Lulu?"
"I-Indian girl. She came to w-warn us."
"The girl who escaped! This just keeps getting better and better! Where are they now?"
Chloe pulled and twisted and railed against the desire to speak. The words came tumbling out anyway. "American Rust Junkyard—it's north of here."
"Wonderful. Well, we can't run after every loose end now, can we, Alrik? We have the Incarnate to catch today. But...hmm..." She tapped her chin. "I know someone who can help us with that.
"In any case, it's your turn, Ms. Scott. I believe you have a copy of this laptop's contents in the cloud, am I correct?"
Brooke nodded, her gaze empty of expression.
"Such a clever girl. And a talented hacker too. Alrik was right to envy you. So, when you get back to your school, I want you to erase it. All the data you have on Dionysus."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then we are done here, I suppose. Come along, Alrik. Since she already knows about us, we'll have to rethink our strategy for Rachel Amber's surprise party."
But the man shook his head and gestured toward Chloe and Brooke.
"Hmm, what? Shit, of course! How could I forget?" Maja bopped herself on the forehead. "Well, what do girls like to angst about nowadays, hmm? Oh yes." She made a dismissive wave of her hand. "Nobody wants you, nobody cares. You should go kill yourselves."
With that, the pair got into their SUV and drove off, leaving Chloe and Brooke standing in the parking lot.
The wind soon picked up, tossing flyers like tumbleweeds across the pavement. Drops of rain mottled the ground, and moments later, it registered to Chloe that she was alone. Brooke had wandered off, perhaps to find a bus back to school.
But it didn't matter. Got stuff to do, she told herself as her cold, nerveless fingers pried open her truck door and she pulled herself into the driver's seat. Then she drove out of the parking lot and followed the road home.
She didn't have to hurry anymore. It didn't matter to her if David or her mom came home early. Or that Rachel was in more danger than ever. Nothing worried her.
She felt nothing.
She was nothing.
Rachel scratched off the last location on her list before sitting back to stretch her sore neck. She had been sitting on the deserted stage of the Blackwell Drama Club for the last hour, meticulously calling the concierge of every inn and motel around town. She would introduce herself as Brenda from the Sheriff's office and ask if they had guests that fit the description of the Twins.
Thus far she had nothing to show after calling eight different locations. Six were dead ends; she would have to personally visit the three motels that refused to share information and look for the Twins' vehicle herself. If she could only catch them off-guard—ambush them—end them—before they could hurt anybody else—
"It has to be today," she vowed to herself. "No one else dies." Today she would end the threat of Dionysus for good.
She turned her weary eye out the window. Outside, a stream of students were hauling bags and personal belongings from the Auditorium to the parking lot, where their parents were waiting to take them home. Juliet's death had sent shockwaves throughout the school and town; parents had arrived in droves to whisk their kids away, perhaps forever. The few that remained sat on their makeshift beds in the Auditorium and lost themselves on their phones. Empty stage, empty audience.
Rachel let her head fall into her hands as the sleepless night started to catch up to her. She wished it were tomorrow already. Tomorrow, after the Twins had been found and beaten. Tomorrow, when she would finally see Max's kind, smiling face again, when she could somehow start patching things up with Chloe. Tomorrow—
Try as she might, her vision of a better future had turned slippery in her mind. Somewhere along the way, she had lost control of the plot. She no longer knew how this story would end.
Still, she had to win—had to. Not for herself alone but for everyone she cared about.
Tomorrow, she thought, shutting her eyes. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow—
She jerked awake as her phone rang. Frowning, she picked it up from her lap, expecting a callback from a concierge. Her heart stopped when she saw Juliet's cheerful image waving at her, her name floating over the answer button.
For a split-second, her addled brain gave a painful jolt of hope—it had all been a nightmare! Juliet's alive and calling to gossip or hang out! Then came the cold realization that the police had never recovered her phone.
She hit Answer and held the phone to her ear, saying nothing.
"Rachel Amber," said the woman on the other end.
"Maja Volden," Rachel growled.
"You have no idea what a pleasure it is to finally speak with you. I'm literally having a moment right now, so please bear with me."
Rachel could hear her grinning and swore she would burn it off of that smug face before the day was over. "Where are you?"
"Don't worry, I'll tell you. I'm excited as you are to meet up. But I'm told you like games, so let's play one right now, shall we?"
"What—"
"A guessing game. You'll find us in a wide open space where American brutes like to clobber each other while fighting over an inflated animal bladder. Come and find us, and please don't be long. We get bored easily, and you wouldn't want to lose another friend in the meantime, would you?"
"I'll be there," Rachel vowed. "Enjoy the last ten minutes of your life."
She hung up, put the phone away, and looked down at her hands. They were shaking a little, so she curled them into fists until they steadied. She permitted herself to think of Max and Chloe, sitting together by a fire and safely hidden in the junkyard, then she let that image go.
Time to show your loved ones what you're worth.
Maja slipped the phone back into her pocket and turned to face her brother. "She'll be here any moment now."
They stood together on the green of the football field next to one of the goalposts. The coming rain had driven off any would-be players, and after the fire, no one was keen on hanging around the school anyway. Good, thought Maja. Fewer bystanders, less chance for interruption. The battleground was set.
Alrik, however, seemed preoccupied; he stared down at the darkening length of the field. He'd been moodier than usual, despite their string of successes.
"Hey," she said, tugging at his sleeve. "Didn't you hear me?"
He nodded, eyes still far away.
"Is something wrong, little brother?" She reached up to touch his cheek. "You're normally so focused before a battle. What's the matter?"
He finally faced her and signed his reply.
She shrugged. "So what if this is the end? We will win as we always have. Or do you fear something else?"
He added a few quick gestures, scowling as he did.
"I see. So you don't fear her, you fear what will happen after we defeat her. Oh, Alrik. Do you think that once Dionysus has no need of us, they will give us our own Bacchanalia?" She took his hands to silence him. "Little brother, trust in Father. He IS Dionysus—the rest don't matter. And he has never failed us. So we must not fail him."
After a moment, Alrik nodded and gave a rare smile.
"Good. Now take your position. Our guest is almost here."
The tornado carried Rachel from the Blackwell rooftop straight to the football field across the street. She momentarily hovered far above the white stands and goalposts, surveying the area. Apart from a few cars parked on the avenue and a few scattered pedestrians hurrying along the sidewalk to escape the drizzle, the place seemed deserted. It was risky, but she decided to lower her altitude for a closer look.
As she gently drifted to the height of the goalposts, Sean Prescott's words rang through her mind.
It would be a first fatal mistake to think of the Voldens as human; they are not, nor do they consider you as such. So strike with resolve. Every moment of mercy you give them is a cruelty unto yourself.
Rachel gritted her teeth. "Tell me something I don't know, you old bastard."
There! A shadow moved within the steel shed next to the field. Maja stood up from the player benches, staring up at her through her dark glasses with a surprised look on her face. "Oh," she called to her, "you said ten minutes, I thought we had time to—"
Liar, Rachel thought. You're pretending you're caught off guard, but you've been waiting for me, haven't you?
Nevertheless, this was a prime opportunity. Maja was alone and too far away for Rachel to see her eyes. The Twins are strongest together, Prescott had told her. Your best bet is to separate them. Maja is more dangerous so take her down first. Destroy the sister and the brother will follow.
A plan was already taking shape in Rachel's mind; she just needed to buy a little time to finish it.
Maja shook herself, cleared her throat, and started again. "You are indeed everything I imagined you to be," she said. "Dreadful and beautiful as a summer storm. A living god—"
"Save your breath," Rachel replied. "You'll need it to scream."
The woman lifted her shoulders. "Maybe. Or maybe it's me who'll be ending you."
"I wish a bitch would try."
"I have no doubt. But wouldn't you want to know who it is you're fighting and why? Come closer and let's talk for a moment, ja?"
Rachel's only reply was the thunder booming in the clouds above. Even from this distance, she could see Maja flinch. Rachel smirked.
You have a singular advantage: the Twins seek to capture, not kill you. They must hold back while you face them at full strength.
There were two lines of thought within her. The first, cold and calculating, weighed her chances at a frontal assault. She didn't know where Alrik was hiding, but he couldn't fly. He wouldn't be able to stop her as long as she stayed airborne. That left only Maja, the more vulnerable one, who could not attack what she could not see.
The second line had no words, no plans. It was a whirlpool of molten heat deep in her chest, growing hotter the longer she gazed at Maja's grin. It contained the memory of a body under a white sheet being wheeled past her. The thought that beneath that sheet could be another person she loved—
Maja was still talking, but Rachel wasn't listening. The power swelled within her, heat rising up her chest to her throat and filling her head until all she could hear was the rush of her blood.
Rachel threw up her hand. The air chilled to freezing as a thick mist descended upon the football field. Hidden from view, she rushed to attack.
Rachel had realized from the start Maja was the bait. The bitch had chosen her position well—the metal shed would shield her from a lightning bolt. Summoning a tornado to dislodge her would take time. Rachel knew that Alrik lurked somewhere nearby, likely waiting to take her down from range—perhaps with a tranquilizer dart—while she was busy with Maja.
But the mist served another purpose. Prescott had warned her that the Twins would use her loved ones against her, to unbalance and make her emotional. But the knife cuts both ways. With the mist blocking his view, Rachel predicted Alrik would abandon his hiding place to rush in and protect his sister. Then she would have both siblings in front of her.
Rachel flew in a curving line toward the benches. Fire was her last card to play—she just needed to catch Maja's silhouette, then she would torch her so thoroughly that nothing would be left but blackened bones. But it needed to be a precision strike—she had to get close enough to hit without burning down everything else.
Rachel swiftly closed in on the shed. A plume of flame appeared in her hand like a raised blade.
The brief whistling noise was her only warning. She looked to her left, her arm raised to ward off an attack, only to catch what felt like a sledgehammer to the ribs. Everything was happening in snapshots: the breath exploding from her lungs, the blow sending her pinwheeling through the air, the thing that hit her—a football—spinning above her torso before plummeting to the ground. And as her breath left her completely and her vision grayed from the pain, she started falling too.
Through the haze, she realized that a fall this high could kill her. But another noise was echoing through the mists below—hard, driving footsteps on wet ground, growing louder as she fell. Then followed the flapping of cloth before something heavy and solid crashed into her, changing her trajectory. Two solid arms encased her, pinning her hands to her sides.
She forced herself to ignore the pain and look up, catching the harsh features of the enormous man who had caught her in mid-air. Alrik. He was wearing some form of headgear with telescopic lenses. Are those...thermal goggles? He could see me this whole time?
She had no time to curse her naivete. They hit the ground like a meteor, her teeth rattling in her head as his powerful legs broke their fall. They won't kill me, her mind repeated like a child's mantra. But the thought terrified her just as much—they were keeping her alive for something far, far worse.
Adrenaline surged through her. With a primal scream, Rachel pried her right arm free and reached for the clouds. The skies boomed in answer—she shut her eyes to keep herself from getting blinded as the lightning shot down, striking her and her captor.
Millions of volts pulsed through them—to Rachel, no more than a brief, pleasant buzz on her skin. But to her horror, she opened her eyes to see Alrik still standing, staring down at her through his goggles. The arms holding her sizzled and smoked but remained firm.
With a cry, she reached up once more. The thunder echoed so loudly she could barely hear her own scream. This second strike had an effect, driving Alrik to one knee, his teeth bared and his lips coated in foam. Enraged, he raised her overhead and slammed her onto the wet ground.
She shrieked as the impact pulsed through her. But she stayed conscious; Alrik took care to rattle, not kill. Fueled by pure defiance, she raised her arm again. Lightning split the sky.
The third blast did more than hurt Alrik—it cooked him. His flesh smoked through his tattered coat from the plasma's heat. The lenses of his goggles exploded, scattering bits of glass and revealing bloodshot eyes. Web-like burns appeared across his face and down his neck, and his ragged breath came out in plumes of steam. He could no longer move.
One more, Rachel realized, baring her teeth. Just one more and I'll split this fucker open.
But before she could call a fourth strike, the sound of running feet grabbed her attention. A strong hand grabbed her wrist and wrestled her arm down. She gasped as another hand grasped her chin, then Maja's naked face loomed over her, filling her vision. One glimpse was all it took.
NO!
"Sleep, princess," the woman said. "You are so very tired."
No! No! No!
"Sleep. Dream of your heart's desire."
N-no—
The radiating colors blinded her, like staring at the sun through a shard of glass. Though she fought back, the colors took away all thought and pain. The strength fled her arm and her eyes rolled back.
Oblivion followed.
Maja let go of the girl's face and watched, disbelieving, as her head fell back against the wet grass.
"Brother." She reached for Alrik's shoulder, only to hiss and pull back as the heat burned her palm. "Alrik, we did it! We won! Father will be so—!"
Then the dizziness hit her.
"H-her will is so strong, like nothing I've ever...I can't..." She held a hand to her forehead as she swayed, nearly falling from her knees. Her eyes burned and her brain throbbed; it felt like someone was sticking pins into her skull. Had she overestimated her recovery?
Seeing her brother slumped over and unresponsive, she kicked at his leg. "Get up, Alrik!" she shrieked. "I'm stretched thin—I can't hold her forever! We need to move! NOW!"
It took a few moments for her brother to snap out of his lethargy, but soon they were carrying their unconscious quarry to their parked car. The mist began to lift as the rain ceased. Despite her blazing headache, Maja began to smile.
She pulled out her phone and made a secure call.
"Victory, Father. We did it. We are bringing her to you."