D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

Loque motioned with both palms down, as if to say, “Calm down. Be quiet.” He even made a “shush” gesture with a finger to his lips.

There was no way I’d calm down or be quiet. Siry ran up beside me and tried to grab my arm to stop me. “Stop!” he whispered urgently.

I didn’t listen. “Run this way! Now!” I screamed at Loque.

Loque glanced around in confusion. He had no idea why I was going off like that. He slowly started walking toward me. Too slowly.

“What’s the matter?” he called. “They’re gone.”

“No, they’re not!” I yelled. “They’re outside and they’ve got a-“

Boom! A shot was fired. I’d heard the sound before. It was one of the cannons from the military boat, like the one that fired on our ship. The Flighters weren’t gone. They knew we were in that cathedral.

They wanted to make it our tomb.

A split second after the gun fired, the giant stained-glass window exploded into a million brilliant flashes of light. It would have been a spectacular sight, if it hadn’t been so horrifying. It was like standing inside an exploding firework skyrocket. Tiny bits of glass whizzed past us. But we weren’t the ones in danger. Tons of sharp glass shards rained straight down, directly on Loque.

“No!” shouted Siry. As if that would do any good.

I had the presence of mind to stop running, grab Siry, and pull him back. We weren’t totally safe from flying glass. Siry was too stunned to resist. I pulled him away as quickly as I could and shoved him back into the small room where we had been hiding. Once inside, we both turned to look back.

It was a wondrous, magical, horrifying sight. At the sound of the explosion, Loque had stopped in surprise. Or maybe curiosity. It was the worst thing he could have done. He looked back as the glass wall exploded over him. He didn’t run. He didn’t cower. I think the reality of what was happening didn’t hit him, and that was a good thing. Siry and I watched as Loque gazed up in wonder at the spectacular, colorful waterfall of glass… that was falling right for him. Seconds later tons of sharp glass hit the blond thief. Siry’s best friend. I couldn’t watch. I had to bury my eyes in my arm. The sound was enough. It was deafening, like a million shrieking birds. I heard the weight thunder, followed by the constant, sharp sounds of tons of glass shattering on the floor.

I felt the sting of a thousand tiny shards that dug into my arm as the storm of glass hit us. I should have ducked behind the wall for protection, but I was too stunned to move. I let it hit me. I wanted to feel the burn.

The sound of crashing glass continued for several seconds before settling down. When

I felt safe enough to peek up, the first thing I thought was that somebody had turned on a ton of floodlights in the cathedral. They hadn’t. With the stained-glass wall gone, the sunlight wasn’t filtered anymore. What once had been an immense wall of color, was now a jagged hole of bright white light. At its base was a pile of broken glass that had to be fifteen feet high. I stared at the sparkling mound. I wanted to see Loque walk away from it. I wanted to see him pull himself out of the mess and jog back toward us. He didn’t.

Siry ran out of the room, headed for the pile of glass.

“Loque!” he screamed, anguished.

“No, wait!” I shouted.

Siry would not be denied. All I could do was run after him. He sprinted to the pile, desperately scanning for any sign of his friend.

“We can’t stay here,” I pleaded with him. “Look!”

Through the hole, we now saw the gun clearly. It looked exactly like the cannon that was mounted on the bow of the Flighters’ gunboat. Surrounding the gun were Flighters. They knew exactly what they were doing. They couldn’t find us, so they decided to bury us. The only one they got was Loque.

Siry gasped. He was looking at something on the floor. My gaze followed his, and I saw something that made my knees get weak. It was a sandal. Loque’s sandal. Siry went for the pile of glass, as if ready to dig with his bare hands. I had to stop him or he would have shredded himself.

“We have to go,”I yelled. “Now!”

The Flighters were already gingerly poking around the damage. They were headed our way, probably to find proof that we were finished.

Siry was nearly in tears. He had lost two of his trusted Jakills. Loque was his friend. Probably his best friend. The chances of rescuing Twig were remote, but at least it was a possibility. Not so with Loque. I didn’t want to think of what shape he was in under that massive, crushing load of glass. I realized that the sandal might be the only recognizable thing left of the blond thief. I had to shake that image, fast.

“Now, Siry.” I said softly, but with force.

Siry took a shaky breath, looked up at the oncoming Flighters, then turned and ran back the way we had first entered the cathedral. I was right behind him. I had to force the horrifying memories of the past few minutes out of my head. I’ll never forget the images of Twig being dragged away and Loque dying under the waterfall of glass. They’ll be with me forever. We couldn’t let those memories crush us. We could mourn later. We could try and rescue Twig later. But not if the Flighters got to us first. It was about our survival. I hoped Siry was thinking the same way.

I didn’t know which was more important: speed or secrecy. The longer we were in that city, the better the chances the Flighters would find us. Getting back to the ship was crucial, but if we weren’t careful, we could easily run right into another bunch of those rats. There was no telling where they were. The city suddenly felt like an old house that was infested with termites. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they were there. By the thousands. They could have been watching our every move. Siry and I left the cathedral, running back along the route we had first come through. I hoped the Flighters wouldn’t expect that. After dodging through the labyrinth of rooms, I stopped at the doorway out to the street, on the far side of the building. I didn’t want to jump right back into another ambush. We crouched down to rest and make a plan.

“I hope they think we’re dead,” I said, gulping air. “It might give us enough time to get back to the ship and shove off.”

Siry’s eyes were glassy and vacant, as if he were in shock. “They killed him. They killed my best friend. Why did they have to kill him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about them.”

“Was it revenge?” Siry continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “All we ever did was protect our home from them. They’re the ones who attacked. Not us.”

I grabbed Siry and gave him a rough shake. He focused on me, surprised.

“Stop!” I seethed. “Keep it together. If we stay here, we’re dead too.”

“I’m starting not to care,” he said quietly.

“What about the other Jakills?” I snapped. “Do you care about them? They’ll come looking for us, you know. Unless we get back to warn them, they’ll walk right into the same trap we did.”

My words hit home. Siry focused, fast.

“We should keep close to the buildings,” he said, back in charge. “Less chance of them seeing us.”

“No,” I said quickly. “These buildings are full of Flighters. If we stay close, they’d be on us before we had a chance to react.”

“So what do we do?”

“Run. Fast as we can, right down the middle of the street, as far away from the buildings as possible. That way we can see them coming.”

“And what if they see us coming?”

“They will. But if we’re in the middle of the street, we’ll have a few seconds to react.”

I could sense the wheels in his head turning, calculating the possibilities. Slowly his head bobbed in agreement, and continued to bob as he got himself psyched up. “One… two… three… GO!” He jumped up and blasted out the doorway.