Maureen Johnson - The Name of the Star

“Are you lying to me?” he asked, digging the point into my chin.

“No,” I said through clenched teeth. It was hard to talk. Newman pressed the knife even harder, forcing my mouth closed. I felt the tip of the blade slip into my flesh, digging a small hole. Up close, he had a rotten smell that burned the inside of my nose. He no longer looked completely in control of himself.

He twisted the knife once, then grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the room toward the ticket booth.

“Reach in there,” he said, pointing the knife at some old boards that sealed off the old ticket window.

The boards gave when I pushed at them, and I was able to get my hand into the opening, though I couldn’t see what I was reaching for. What I felt mostly was grime and cobwebs, and I was certain I was thrusting my hand into a place that had long been a nest for rats and mice. I felt what seemed like pencils, and some little rock-like things that were probably petrified rodent turds, but then I hit something smooth and thin and plasticky. I carefully pulled this out of the opening. It was a syringe, capped and pristine, and full of something.

“Take the cap off and inject him,” Newman said.

“Where?”

“In the upper arm.”

I approached Stephen, who looked up at me with a sweatslicked face.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “Don’t let him have it.”

I pulled the cap off the needle end and jammed it into Stephen’s arm. It took a lot of force to get it through the sweater and the shirt and his skin. It didn’t go in all the way on the first try, so I had to keep pressing down to get into the muscle.

“Sorry,” I said.

The plunger was equally hard to depress, but I eventually got it down, and whatever was in the syringe was now in Stephen. As I pulled it out, Newman put me in a choke hold and held the knife up to my eye.

“Stay exactly where you are,” he said to Callum. “If I so much as think I hear you following, I’ll slice her open.”

I had been alone with the Ripper before, but he had never had me before. When Jo touched you, it felt like a gentle breeze. The Ripper felt like he had the contained wind strength of a hurricane—or at least a pretty serious storm, one that could rip off a roof or pull up a tree. He dragged me backward up the steps until we reached the spiral section, then pushed me ahead of him.

“If I don’t get my terminus, I won’t hold myself back,” he said. “The girl with the long hair, your friend in the window? The boy with the curly hair? They’ll be scrubbing the walls for weeks, trying to get the blood off. And what I will do to you will be even worse. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said. I was crying a little, but I wiped my face and started the climb. I stumbled frequently as we went up, and I’d feel the knife tap the middle of my back. Once we got to the basement, he locked the access door, sealing Stephen and Callum inside. He allowed me to walk on my own, knowing that his threat kept me tethered.

“Where is it?” he snapped as we got into the elevator.

“It’s at Wexford,” I said.

“I will lead, and you will follow.”

It was eerily quiet outside. No cars. No sirens. No people. Just the Ripper and me, stepping out into the dark. He turned sharply when we stepped out of the building and headed toward the river. The building was very close to the Thames, and King William Street continued straight on to London Bridge—one continuous sidewalk. Newman walked to the middle of the bridge, and I stayed with him, fighting every impulse to start running and never, ever stop.

The Thames was well illuminated, lined with buildings and landmarks. This was the main alley of London, and all the lights were on tonight.

“Hypnos,” he said, holding up one of the diamonds. “It has a faint gray hint to the flaw.”

He held up the other for comparison.

“And this is Thanatos. A similar color, but slightly more greenish if you look at it. Persephone’s flaw is distinctly more blue.”

I could barely see the diamonds at all. The wind was blowing in my face, and I was much too frightened to process anything that detailed.

“They’re all slightly different in their effect,” he explained. “Hypnos is the fastest to take effect. Thanatos is a bit slower to take action, not by much. And Persephone, the one we will go and get now . . .”

He palmed the two diamonds and closed his fist around them.

“. . . was the one I carried. Quite powerful. That’s why I preferred her. Plus, it’s a lovely name—Persephone. The goddess of the Underworld. Dragged down to hell, then dragged right up again.”

Newman shook the two diamonds in his fist like they were dice, and then he drew his arm back and threw them. They vanished in midair before dropping into the river below.

“Two gone,” he said. “One to go. Come along, Aurora.”

He turned back and walked exactly the way we had just come, back down King William Street. East London is old and confusing, full of tiny streets and bends and turns, but his stride was purposeful and sure and quick. We walked right through the center of the London financial district, past the disappointed remains of Ripper parties, all waiting for that one last body. We wove through crowds of people, one living person and one dead person. In the dark, no one noticed the knife making its way along the city streets, held by no one. Or if they did, they would put it down to a trick of the eye, or a reflection, or too much beer.

I almost had to run to keep up with Newman, and my thoughts were going even faster. Callum would try to follow us, but he would have to get out first, and he would make sure to get Stephen to safety. So he was way behind me. Boo would be awake and on alert, and Jo was still on the lookout somewhere in the building. But Boo was also in a wheelchair. I was taking the Ripper into my home, and the only person who could fight him off was helpless.

But I was still going, still following, because there was no other way.

Wexford was still somewhat awake. The lights were on in some of the windows. The line of police had thinned out. Now there was one car and no actual officers were in sight, but there were a lot of people passing through the square as the vigil ended.

“Where is it?” Newman asked as we reached the green.

“In my building.”

“Where?”

“Someone has it. I can go in and get it and bring it out to you.”

“Oh, I think we’ll go in together.”

I tapped my card against the reader by the door, and it beeped. I heard the click as the door opened. Only two people were left in the common room. Charlotte was one of them, asleep in the chair closest to the door. The other was Boo.

“Hello, Rory,” Charlotte said, waking up with a yawn. “Still awake?”

Boo naturally fixed her sights on Newman.

“It’s her,” Newman said. “From the night we took a walk. She’s one of them?”

In a second, Boo had her terminus out and up, pointed in his direction. Newman flicked the knife so she could see it and held it at the right side of my neck, the point digging a small hole into the flesh.

“The others are alive for now,” he said. “Ask Aurora. I’ve kept my word. In exchange, I will have that terminus. You’ll drop that to the floor or she will be the first to go. Then I’ll do this one in the chair, and then I’ll do you.”

“You feeling all right?” Charlotte asked Boo.

Boo held up the phone and kept her fingers over the one and the nine, but she didn’t press.

The pressure on my neck increased, and I felt a trickle of blood run down the side.

“You’re in a wheelchair ,” Newman said. “You have no options.”

Boo hesitated for another moment, then released it to the floor.