Experiment in Terror 09 Dust to Dust(80)

With what I could, I closed my eyes and concentrated, putting those walls up, imagining barbed wire and shards of broken glass around me, keeping the thing out. I created a Fort Knox inside of me, hard and sharp and unbreakable.

Something softer, the demented, raspy voice said in my head, a voice that burned at me like battery acid.

And then it was gone. I felt it leave my body, as if I had been giving it too much resistance and it finally gave up. Wanting something softer.

“Perry, fucking talk to me!” Dex was in my face, slapping my cheek lightly. I blinked, staring up at him, concentrating on a bead of sweat that was threatening to fall from the tip of his nose. “Talk to me!”

“I’m okay,” I managed to say, trying to sit up. He helped me, his grip tight, one hand behind my head, holding me gently. There were people passing by, staring at me in concern. I shot them a quick smile, just in case they called an ambulance.

“Perry,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine. “I thought I lost you.”

I swallowed, that feeling coming back. The evil. Such evil.

“No,” I said. I pulled back and stared at him. “Did you see him? The beast in the suit?”

“No…” he looked around.

“He came inside my head. Just for a moment. He left, I pushed him out. He’s going after something softer.”

He frowned and placed his palm on his head. “I would know if he got in. Look at me, he hasn’t.”

I was looking at him and I knew he was right. He’d already had Dex and now Dex was tougher than ever before.

But others weren’t as strong as us. Others were softer.

“Ada!” I suddenly yelled, springing to my feet. “My mother!”

Dex nodded, wearing horror on his face. “Call them!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Fuck, we need a phone.”

He spotted a couple walking arm and arm a few yards away and ran over to them. When it looked like they were agreeing, I booked it over to them, shooting them a grateful look.

“Thank you,” I said to them, “it’s a bit of an emergency.” I took the phone and dialed my mom’s phone, knowing she was most likely to answer.

My dad answered instead. “Daniel Palomino,” he said.

“Dad!” I yelled.

“Perry? Whose number is this?”

“Dad where is mom and Ada?”

“They’re with me, why? Do you want to talk to your mother?” His voice began to break up and I heard a loud grinding noise in the background

“Where are you?” I asked, feeling like time was falling through my fingers.

“We’re just about to get on the subway,” he said, the crackles getting louder.

“Where are you going?” There was nothing, then he said something I could barely make out. “Dad!” I yelled. “Where are you going? What station?!”

The static grew stronger but I finally heard him say, “Fifty-Third and fifth.”

“Okay, get off at that station and do not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”

More crackles. I thought my heart was going to explode. “Here, talk to your mom,” he said. And then the phone went dead.

“Mom!” I yelled. “Dad!”

There was nothing. Reception was dropped. Oh god, how I prayed it was just the reception.

I handed the phone back to the bewildered couple without glancing at them. I had to get to my family. I started running across the park, going as fast as my legs would carry me. I heard Dex yell my name, then apologize to the couple and take off after me.

He was fast as anything and when he caught up, he didn’t ask questions. He knew. If the demon was still around, he was weak. That’s what Pippa had said. But he was still a threat. He could take over someone else and never come out again. Someone softer with less defenses. Someone who believed. Someone like us – Ada or my mother.

Dex and I ran through the park. Since we had been at the bottom end, it was faster to run through the streets instead of taking the subway. I don’t think I could have stay still on the subway long enough. I need to move, feel like I getting somewhere, doing something.

Oh, please, please, please, please don’t let them get hurt. Let them stay strong. After everything, I couldn’t handle another blow to my life. More than that, I would never forgive myself.

We ran and ran and ran. We bowled over overladen shoppers, bumped into surly pedestrians. We ran through red lights, cars swerving to avoid us, honking their horns. We passed by restaurants and cafes and souvenir stores and carts full of fake handbags. If there was thing that we were good at, it was running for our lives. This time it was to save lives.

And the entire city of Manhattan carried on, like nothing was at stake.