Michael Grant - Lies

“Calvary,” Tanner said. “Golgotha.”

“No,” Brittney said.

“You must do as God wills,” Tanner said.

Brittney stood still. Her feet did not feel the warmth of the sand beneath them. Her skin did not feel the slight breeze from the ocean. She did not smell the salt spray.

“Climb the hill, Brittney. Climb to the place of death.”

“I will,” Brittney said.

She began to walk. She was alone, everyone else ahead, she the last to climb the hill.

Dekka was just coming down to earth. Astrid was racing ahead, pulling Nemesis with her.

How did she know to call him that? She had known Little Pete before, back in the old days. She knew his name. But in her mind the name Nemesis had formed when she saw him. And a surge of pure rage.

Is he the evil one, Lord? She stopped, momentarily confused as Astrid and Little Pete ran ahead.

Her arm twitched. Stretched. So very strange.

And her braces were turning liquid, leaving only a metallic slick on sharp teeth.

Zil lay groaning, his legs twisted at impossible angles.

Brittney passed him by.

She would meet the evil one when she reached the top. And then would come the battle.

“Everyone hold hands,” Mary said.

The children were slow to react. But then, one by one, their little faces turned to the sunset, they reached out for each other.

Mary’s helpers, carrying the babies, stood in the line with all the others.

“It’s coming, children,” Mary said.

“Hold tight to each other…

“Be ready, children. Be ready to jump. You have to jump so high to go to your mommy’s arms…”

Mary felt it beginning, just as she had known it would. The time had come.

Fifteen years before, at this very hour, at this very minute, Mary Terrafino was born…

Sam could hear nothing but a hurricane wind in his ears. He could feel nothing but the manic gyration of the skateboard under his feet, rattling up through every bone in his body. That and Brianna’s hands on his back, pushing him, and again and again grabbing him, righting him, guiding him on a ride that made the craziest roller coaster Sam had ever experienced look like a quiet stroll.

Up the road from the power plant.

Down the highway, slaloming through abandoned or crashed cars.

Then a blistering few seconds of tearing through town.

A turn so sharp he was airborne and completely off the board, flying through the air.

Brianna raced out in front of him, grabbed his two kicking feet and guided them back onto the board. Like a sack of cement. Sam couldn’t believe he hadn’t broken both legs, he hit so hard. But Brianna’s hands held him steady, pushing and guiding him.

Then a blur and a sudden, shocking, gut-wrenching stop.

He was pretty sure he’d been screaming the whole time.

“We’re there,” Brianna said.

Time stopped for Mary. People froze. The very molecules of air seemed to stop vibrating.

Yes, just as others had described it. The poof. The big one-five.

And there, oh God, her mother.

The mother of Mother Mary, Mary thought. Not beautiful, maybe, not so very beautiful in reality as she had become in memory. But so warm and so inviting.

“Come on, honey,” her mother said. “It’s time to lay down the burden.”

“Mom…I’ve missed you so much.”

Her mother held her hands out, a waiting hug. Waiting. Arms open. Face smiling through tears.

“Mom…I’m scared…,” Mary said.

“Come to me, baby girl. Hold tight to their hands and come to me.”

“The littles…my kids…”

“All their mommies are with me. Bring them out of that awful place, Mary. Set them free.”

Mary stepped forward.

FORTY-THREE

0 MINUTES

ASTRID SCREAMED, “GRABthe children! Grab the children!”

She leaped to get a grip on the child nearest to her. Others just stared. Kids gaped, stunned, as Mary stepped, as if in a dream, off the cliff.

Mary dropped from sight. She was still trying to take steps as she fell.

Her grip was tight. Kids fell with her. A chain reaction. One pulling the next, pulling the next.

Dominoes off the cliff.

Justin tried to pull back when Mary pulled him over the edge of the cliff. But he wasn’t strong enough to loosen her iron grip.

He fell.

And the little girl who held his other hand fell after him.

Justin didn’t cry out. There was no time.

Rocks rushed up at him. Fast as a time when he’d been hit in the face by a dodgeball. But he knew the rocks wouldn’t sting and bounce away.

A rock monster opened jaws to receive him. Jagged stone teeth were going to chew him up.

Astrid’s grip was too weak.

The child she’d grabbed was torn from her grip.

Disappeared over the side.

She turned away, eyes wide with horror.

Brittney was there, right there, staring at her. But her face was changing, twisting, a horrible mask of melting flesh.

And Sam!

Sam, staring.

Brianna, a sudden blur as she leaped off the cliff.

Mary felt her grip on the children loosen. They weren’t falling, they were flying. Flying free.

Her mother held out her arms and Mary, free at last, flew to her.

Justin felt Mother Mary’s hand simply disappear. There, firmly gripping his one moment.

Then gone.

Justin fell.

But behind him something fell faster, a wind, a rush, a rocket. He was halfway to the rocks when the something fast hit him and knocked the air out of him.

He flew sideways. Like a baseball that had just been hit for a home run. He was rolling across the sand of the beach now, rolling like he’d probably never stop.

He hit the sand ahead of the others who, without Brianna’s speed, simply fell toward the rocks.

“Well, if it isn’t Astrid,” Brittney said with Drake’s voice. “And you brought the Petard with you.”

Brittney, whose arm was now as long as a python, whose braces had been replaced by a shark smile, laughed.

“Surprise!” The thing that was not Brittney said.

“Drake.” Astrid gasped.

“You’re next, pretty girl. You and your idiot brother. Over the side. Jump!”

Drake lashed at her with his whip hand.

Astrid staggered back.

She reached for Little Pete. She grabbed his hand. But it slipped from her grip. Instead, she held the game player. She stared at it, uncomprehending.

Astrid took a step back in midair, tried to recover, windmilled her arms crazily, trying to maintain her balance. But she could feel the truth: she was too far.

And then, as she gave up, as she accepted the fact of death and called on God to save her brother, something hit her hard in the back.

She jerked forward. Both feet on solid ground.

“You’re welcome,” Brianna said.

The impact had thrown the game player from her hand. It spun through the air and hit a rock. Smashed.

Drake drew back his whip arm.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this,” Brianna said.

“No, Breeze,” Sam said. “This is my job.”

Drake whirled, seeing Sam for the first time. Drake’s mud-stained grin disappeared.

“Sam!” he said. “You really ready for another round?”

His whip snapped.

Sam raised his hand, palm out. Brilliant green light blazed. But the whip had upset Sam’s aim. Instead of burning a hole through Drake’s middle, he hit Drake’s foot.

Drake bellowed in rage. He tried to take a step forward, but his foot wasn’t just burned-it was gone. He rested his weight on a charred stump.

Sam aimed and fired and Drake fell onto his back. Both his feet were gone now.

But even as Sam watched, the legs were regenerating. Growing.

“See?” Drake said through teeth gritted more in fury and triumph than in pain. “I can’t be killed, Sam. I’ll be with you forever.”