Driggs snickered. “This should be fun.”
As they got closer to Ferbus’s shouts of glee, the forms that had made no sense at a distance began to take shape into something that made even less sense: stacks of old automobiles, seemingly dropped from space but arranged in an undeniable pattern.
“Carhenge!” Ferbus jubilantly danced through the pillars, taking it all in. “Man, you hear about it, you dream about the day you might get to see it, but it’s even better than I imagined!”
Elysia blinked. “What is Carhenge?”
“Don’t you get it?” said Ferbus, the grin still on his face. “It’s like Stonehenge.” He pointed. “But with cars.”
The Juniors stared at him. Bang coughed.
“Well,” said Uncle Mort after a moment, “as riveting as”—he consulted his atlas—“rural Nebraska is, it’s probably best that we keep moving.”
Ferbus’s face fell. “But the gift shop.”
Uncle Mort rubbed his temples. “Tell you what, next time we’re being chased by a murderous criminal, I’ll try to schedule in a little more time for sightseeing.” He formed the Juniors back into a circle. “Let’s not assign a designated driver this time. We’ll scythe, and whoever thinks of something first, somewhere farther east—that’s where we’ll go. Ready?”
***
This time around they were greeted by the stoic faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln, all wearing caps of snow. “Ooh, Mount Rushmore,” Ferbus said bitterly. “Because dead presidents are so much more fascinating than the subtle, delicate art of automotive sculpture.”
“East!” Uncle Mort said, exasperated. “Not north!”
“Uh, guys?” Pip said, pulling on Uncle Mort’s sleeve. “People are looking at us.”
Looking and yelling. The gang had scythed into the middle of a crowded observation platform and, having materialized out of nowhere, were now the ones being observed. One mother grabbed her children and held them tight. Another kid burst into tears. A security guard muttered something into his radio, then started toward them.
“Um—” Uncle Mort stuttered. “Run.”
The Juniors obeyed, sprinting for the exit. “Away from the crowds, so they don’t see us leave!” Uncle Mort yelled as they ran. “Whose bright idea was this?”
“Mine!” Lex shouted back. “I wanted to see if anything was wrong with Mount Rushmore!”
Uncle Mort stopped so fast that all the other Juniors ran past him, but he grabbed Lex before she could get very far. “Why would anything be wrong with it?”
“Edgar said that the one in the Afterlife is being sucked into a vortex or something.”
Lex couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw her uncle flinch.
But they had no time to stand around and discuss it any further; the security guard had almost caught up with them. “No more public places, even if you’re familiar with them!” Uncle Mort shouted at the Juniors up ahead. “And no—”
Zara materialized in front of them, her face twisted in fury. She reached out for Bang, missing by inches.
“SCYTHE!” Uncle Mort yelled.
***
The world went quiet.
They’d landed in the middle of a narrow forest road. The other locations they’d scythed to that day had gotten just a little bit of snow, but this place was drowning in nearly three feet of it. The flakes still fell, blanketing the trees in a soft fuzz, screaming the kind of muted silence that only a blizzard can produce.
“Now where are we?” Lex asked.
Uncle Mort let out a long, irritated breath. “Beats me. Somewhere even farther north. We could be in Canada, for all I know. What part of ‘east’ don’t you kids you understand?”
“Give us a break, Mort,” said Ferbus. “We’re new at this.”
“I don’t even want to know who thought up this one,” Uncle Mort replied. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Lex nodded and looked around at the big white lumps that were her companions. She counted six, including herself.
“Wait.” A sliver of ice ran down her back. “Where’s Driggs?”
The others looked around.
“Driggs,” she called out, her voice becoming higher and more panicked. “Driggs!”
The whiteness turned into a blur as she waded and dug through the snow, her hands freezing. Zara got him, she knew it. And she’d hold him hostage this time, especially now that she knew what he could do. She’d torture him, turn Lex into her slave, and then Damn him as soon as he had served his purpose as leverage.
Lex’s eyes melted into a mess of tears, both from the stinging cold and the unthinkable possibilities running through her mind. Her throat was raw from yelling, her voice becoming raspier and more desperate. “Driggs!”
And then she saw a hand.
The hand was connected to an arm. And the arm was connected to the rest of him, sitting in the ditch next to the road and silently waving.
Relief turned to anger. Very quickly. “Are you kidding me?” she exploded, stumbling toward him. “Why didn’t you answer? Was that supposed to be funny? I thought you were—”
“Sorry,” he said, holding up something white and furry. “I landed on a rabbit.”
Well, that cinched it. A wet-haired Driggs sitting in a snowdrift and petting a bunny was officially the most adorable thing Lex had ever seen.
She grabbed his head and gave him a kiss, then smacked him, causing the bunny to hop off. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Hey, lovebirds!” They heard a panicked Uncle Mort yell. They glanced back just in time to see him and the other Juniors running toward them, away from the snowdrift that had just cushioned Zara’s fall. “Care to join us?”
***
They skidded onto a polished floor, their shoes leaving streak marks of snow and slush.
“Where—” Ferbus started before realizing how loud his voice sounded bouncing around the stark, thankfully empty room. He blinked in disbelief at the dozens of priceless works of art adorning the walls. “Holy Picasso, Batman.”
“I thought I said no more public places, no matter how familiar they are, even if they’re closed for the holiday,” Uncle Mort said, glaring at Pip and Bang. “You guys are terrible at this.”
But their faces were glowing. “The Art Institute of Chicago!” Pip said. Bang signed something to him. Grinning, he faced the group. “We used to come here every few months for school field trips. We both thought of the same place!”
“Art and junk cars,” said Elysia, shooting Ferbus a sarcastic look. “What a cultured group we are.”
“At least it’s warm and indoors,” said Pip.
“And oh so easy to find,” a voice dripped from the next room. Zara stepped into the doorway and lunged at Pip, trying to Damn him but only succeeding in grabbing his scythe out of his hands.
An alarm went off somewhere. “Run!” Uncle Mort yelled. He and the Juniors took off down the dark, screeching hall. “Bang, grab Pip’s hand and Crash through with him!”
But Bang ignored him, opting instead to break off from the group and take a sharp right turn into another gallery. Lex glanced in terror at Driggs, then back at Zara, whose face was crazed as she tore through the hallways, gaining on them—
Until, suddenly, she was in the air.
A lanky leg had poked out from one of the side galleries, tripping Zara and sending her flying. Both Zara’s and Pip’s scythes soared through the hallway in a wide arc and landed in the nimble hands of Bang, who tossed Pip his and joined the group again.
Pip grinned up at Uncle Mort. “Good thing we scythed to such a familiar place, huh, Mort?”
“Don’t even start with me, kid.” Uncle Mort grabbed Zara’s scythe out of Bang’s hand and took one glance back at Zara, who was struggling to her feet, her frustrated howls mixing with those of the screeching alarm. “I’m picking the place this time, guys. Go.”
***
All seven of the
m landed in a cramped, dingy restroom. Lex recognized it as belonging to that truck stop somewhere in Ohio where Uncle Mort had bought her the plastic pirate lighter.
“See?” said Uncle Mort. “Nonpublic places. Nonpublic.” He tried to sound mad, but they could tell he was relieved.
“But Zara can’t follow us anymore—we have her scythe!” said Elysia. “She’s stuck in Chicago!”
“True, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear yet. We’ve still got Norwood to deal with.” He tucked the glass scythe into his bag and checked his atlas. “We should be close enough now to get back to Croak. Scythe to the population sign just outside the town limits so we won’t show up on the grid. I think we can visualize that well enough without being linked together, so go ahead and turn your Cuffs off. That way our location can’t be tracked when we get there.” He paused to catch his breath. “Still, be prepared for anything. I don’t know what kinds of patrols Norwood has set up. Just go with the flow and everything will turn out okay.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Lex asked.
He shot her a look. “Then we’ll throw a hell of a party in the Afterlife.”
22
The road to Croak was deserted.
After a thorough check of the surroundings Uncle Mort deemed it an acceptable place for them to hide out until nightfall, when they’d attempt to sneak in and meet up with Pandora. So the Juniors hiked into the woods and settled in for the long wait, hugging each other for warmth.
“I’m going to take a leak,” Uncle Mort said. “Don’t move from this spot.”
He turned back to them. “And maybe grab a nap while you can. If all goes according to plan, we’ll be spending the night at Pandora’s, but . . .” He gave a tired shrug. “You never know.”
***
Sometime later Lex awoke, baffled that she’d been able to fall asleep in the first place, as cold as she was. She must have been more tired than she thought. Living in constant fear was exhausting.
The last thing she remembered was snuggling up next to Driggs in a large, hollow stump that had formed a sort of love seat, her hands in his pockets, as if they were a typical pair of teenagers on a romantic trek in the woods, with all the time in the world to be young and smitten. She couldn’t quite remember what they’d been talking about—the jumps around the country, maybe? Something about his parents? Either way, she’d started to fall asleep midsentence and Driggs had left her alone to rest.
The thermoregulated hoodie had kept her warm for the most part, although her nose and ears had grown numb. A piece of bark was poking into her back, but she didn’t sit up just yet. She kept her eyes closed and strained to hear Uncle Mort, who was talking in a hushed tone.
“—don’t know. The girl continues to defy all laws of what’s supposed to be possible. Just when I think I have her figured out, she goes and changes the rules again.”
“But why?” That was Driggs. “Why is she able to do these things?”
There was a pause. “Because she’s special.”
Something tingled down Lex’s spine.
“Because of the bloodline thing? Because she’s your niece?”
“. . . Sure.”
“That’s not really an answer.”
“No, I suppose not.”
Neither spoke for a moment.
“Is that why she can Damn?” Driggs eventually asked.
“That’s a good question.”
“Well, what about me? I’m no one’s nephew, how come I can unDamn?”
Lex opened her eyes, just a slit. Enough to see Uncle Mort leaning forward, a spark in his eye.
“That’s an even better question.”
Leaving it at that, he got up and walked away.
Still keeping her eyes slightly open, Lex shifted her view. Bang and Pip had fallen asleep propped up against a tree, their heads drooping together. But Ferbus and Elysia were wide awake and hugging each other for warmth.
Elysia looked upset. “What if they’re really hurt?” she said. “I mean, you saw Riqo . . . all that blood . . .”
“They’re fine,” Ferbus said, squeezing her closer. “Look, if anything, we should be worrying about ourselves. What’s Broomie going to say when she finds out we got to spend all day in the freezing cold Adirondacks? Her jealous rage will be terrible to behold.”
Elysia giggled. She sniffed and nervously fiddled with her earring. “I just feel like such a terrible friend.”
“Lys, if one were to look up the word ‘friend’ in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure there’d be a giant pop-out, confetti-spewing, musical illustration of you.”
Another small smile. Elysia looked up at him. “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
Ferbus just smiled back, then brushed a piece of hair out of her face and whispered something in her ear. A look of surprise spread across her face. She sat up and looked at Ferbus straight-on. They both swallowed at the same time, then began to move their heads in at an awkward angle.
But that was as far as they got. A loud crack sounded somewhere within the woods, the sound of a branch snapping. Everyone, including Lex, jumped to their feet, back on high alert. Uncle Mort scanned the trees, waiting for another noise, but the forest remained silent.
Elysia heaved a nervous sigh. “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”
“I wish we could start a fire,” Pip said. “I’m freezing.”
“And I’m still starving,” said Ferbus. “Isn’t there anything we can eat out here? Pinecones? Frozen berries?”
Lex watched as he dug his shoe into the ground, kicking up some dead leaves—
Her brain short-circuited.
All this time she’d been looking for the neutralizer in the Afterlife. But she’d been wrong.
“What’s the matter?” Elysia asked her.
“That’s it,” she whispered, digging into her pocket for her scythe.
“That’s what?”
“The neutral—”
Lex’s answer was drowned out by a loud battle cry. A mob of people exploded from the woods, Norwood and Heloise at the forefront. Lex watched in horror as her friends went down one by one, knocked out by the butts of the Seniors’ scythes like some terrible, nightmarish version of Whac-a-Mole. Meanwhile, Uncle Mort had seized Norwood and was trying, from the looks of it, to physically rip his head off.
Lex backed up against the big hollow stump, staring at an unconscious Pip, hating herself beyond measure for the decision she was about to make.
“Lex!” Driggs turned to grab her, but he found himself staring at nothing.
She’d disappeared.
The force of Lex’s landing spun her like a top. Even when she stopped, the room kept going, spiraling across her vision. A loud voice only added to the confusion.
“Ho-ly shiiiit.”
She shook her head until the walls of the office on the second floor of the Bank came into focus. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave much time for dealing peacefully with Snodgrass, who’d jumped out from behind his desk and was carefully creeping toward her, as if one wrong move would cause her to shatter.
“Unreal,” he was saying, his eyes huge. “All this time we’ve been looking for you, and here you are, dropped right into my lap.” He grinned. “If this doesn’t net me serious Brownie points with the mayor, nothing will.”
“Stay back, Snodgrass,” Lex said, almost growling. She was not in the mood. She hadn’t traveled clear across the country, deserted her friends, and taken a gigantic risk based on a mere hunch just to have it all screwed up by this asshat.
“Give me the scythe, kid.” He got closer. “Come on, don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” he said, grabbing her arm.
“Let me go!” She tried to break free, but Snodgrass was stronger than he looked. She struggled harder, slashing his leg with her scythe.
“You little bitch!” He snatched the scythe out of her hand and restrained her from behind, his hot breath on her neck. “No wonder you
’re such a hot commodity. You’ve got quite a bit of fight in you, huh?” He put his mouth close to her ear. “I like that.”
Lex fought back a wave of nausea. “Don’t.”
He turned her around to face him. “Relax, kid.”
“Get off me!”
With adrenaline-fueled strength, she pushed him away as hard as she could. He fell backwards and hit the desk, his head smashing into the corner with a sickening crunch.
He slid to the floor. Lex didn’t know if he was alive or dead.
But she didn’t have time to find out. She took her scythe from his limp hand, hastily turned around to grab a handful of what she’d come for, and scythed out of the room, shaking the whole time.
***
Lex took a few calming breaths with her head between her legs, staring at the sticks beneath her feet. Her arms felt bruised from where Snodgrass had clutched them, and her heart stuck in her throat when she recalled how she’d abandoned her friends, abandoned Driggs . . .
But she forced herself to focus. The Seniors weren’t killing the Juniors, just knocking them out. They’d be okay.
In theory.
She straightened up. The Sticks River looked the same as it had a few months before, but snowier. She’d landed right in the middle of the bridge. The sticks crackled beneath her feet as she made her way down the side that led to the woods.
The sky was clouded over and gray; that plus all the ether-surfing and time zone differences made it impossible to tell what time it was. She proceeded just as Driggs had when he’d brought her here, through the small opening and down the darkened, narrow path, watching the left side until she spotted it: a small break in the trees.
She opened her hand and stared at the few leaves of Ficus compos mentis that she’d plucked from the small potted plant in the office, a plant she’d looked at a billion times and never given a second thought. She knew she’d seen it somewhere before when Riqo had showed her the picture in his gardening book. It had been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to figure it out.
Thankfully, that someone hadn’t been Zara.
Lex stuffed a couple of leaves into her mouth and began chewing. They tasted . . . well, leafy. A slight tingle sizzled through her tongue and stung her throat. She waited, but nothing changed. She thought maybe her vision had become a little bit sharper, but she could have been imagining that.