CHAPTER 39
Susan
“Okay, well, that was
embarrassing and pointless.”
“Feel better, though,
doncha?”
“Irrelevant!” the
Ancient Furnace proclaimed, furtively wiping her wet cheeks on the
sleeve of her denim jacket. “Also, I had something in my
eye.”
“Yeah, like tear
ducts pulling overtime.”
“I loathe everything
about you,” said the Ancient Furnace, “so much. In
fact—whoa.”
“Hmmm?” Susan raised
her head. Jennifer was staring, almost leaning, forward. She looked like an English setter
on point, eyeing a flock of delicious grouse. “What?”
“Something
nutty-nut-flavored this way comes.”
It was Evangelina
flying—more like lurching—toward the roof. When she got close
enough, she simply gave up and crashed.
“Dr. Georges-Scales!”
Susan screamed, running toward the exit door. She yanked it open
and screamed into the cement throat of the stairway, “Dr. Georges-
Scales, come quick, come quick, get up here now!”
She ran back to help,
knowing there wasn’t a damn thing she could do—she had zero medical
skills.
“Aw, geez,
Evangelina, you’re all—” Jennifer was covered in her sister’s
blood. “Lie still, you’re being all thrashy.”
Got them dead they’re dead almost all of them so hungry almost all full so dead so very dead
“Tell your story
later,” Jennifer snapped. She seemed to be looking for the right
wound to apply pressure to. There was a depressing array to choose
from. “Preferably outside my head.”
Stop trying to save me.
“Mom! Mom, get up
here!”
She can’t help almost dead almost full almost all of them are gone now and you can do the rest sister you could finish the job if you’re hungry enough yes you can
“Mom!”
I needed to feed needed to feed Mother let me go so I could feed
“So that’s where
you’ve been—feeding off Ember’s gang? Helpful, I suppose. But Mom’s
going to be pissed at you. And her.”
Owww that hurts.
“I have to apply
pressure, or you’ll bleed to death before the angry surgeon gets
here.”
You are kind. Stupid, but kind.
“High praise,”
Jennifer muttered, trying to hold her sister’s guts in one
place.
It will be the death of you.
“Thanks for the
tender moment. Susan, see if you can stop that spurting over
there.” Rubbing her hands over the black, gleaming scales, Susan
found a spouting wound, clapped both hands over it, and leaned with
all of her 137 pounds. A year ago, she would have been holding her
vomit down. Now it was all too normal, save the creature
herself.
Your friend is proud that she doesn’t have to vomit.
“We’re all proud of
her for that. Stop squirming. Also, stay out of our
heads.”
Susan shared
Jennfier’s view on telepathy: it was so creepy to hear someone else
in your brain.
You. Sister’s friend. You mourned the boy I saw the boy alive they hurt him but not after I killed them all almost all of them dead but a few alive the boy you mourn.
The rush of words
confused Susan, but she heard boy and
alive just fine.
“What?”
“Are you talking
about Gautierre?” Jennifer, in her surprise, loosened her grip and
got an arterial spray in her eyes for her trouble. “He’s—ack, your
blood is the worst! Who has black blood? Honestly!”
“Is he alive?” Susan
pressed. “Gautierre Longtail, my boyfriend—he’s
alive?”
I said so. Sister, stop trying to save me.
“Move!” someone said,
and it seemed to Susan that about a hundred people had rushed to
the roof with Dr. Georges-Scales. “Get me some light! Hand me
that—no, the other one. Be still, Evangelina.”
Easier and easier not to move almost dead they are almost all dead
A nurse pulled Susan
back, and she stumbled. Then the medical personnel closed ranks,
and Susan couldn’t see Evangelina anymore. But she could sure hear
her—and talk to her.
Where is he? she asked.
Where the water stinks.
How many left?
Three. Maybe four. Only the stump-tail is healthy enough to fight.
Is he okay?
He so wants to die.
That was enough for
Susan, she backed away from the flurry of activity, slipped into
the stairwell, and took the stairs down three at a
time.