A dozen feet from slamming into the back of the car, which the headlights now revealed as a Frazer sedan, Alfie took his right hand off the wheel and laid it beside him, hoping. He felt Joe’s hand slip into his and squeeze, and his heart eased. His breath shuddered and slipped away.
A smile creased his face as he twisted the steering wheel hard to the left. The plow blade clipped the back of the Frazer, shooting sparks, but the car only jerked and shuddered and carried on as Alfie pounded his foot on the accelerator and the plow ripped through a guardrail. It careened over the edge of a small bridge, nose-first into a wide, icy stream, shattering glass and crunching metal. The impact shot Alfie through the windshield. The last thing he heard was Root shrieking in pain and fury.
It all went dark. And so cold.
After a time—seconds or days, he could not say—he felt Joe’s hand in his again, helping him to rise.
Alfie smiled at his brother. Joe looked good. Handsome and well, eyes bright.
“You’re really here,” Joe said to him, those words again, more reassuring than ever before. For both of them.
The Hannigan brothers turned and walked off along the snow-covered stream, leaving no trace of their passage. The wind gusted, and they were gone.
Up on the road, the Frazer carried on toward Shediak as their pursuers crawled from the wreckage, climbed from the stream up to the broken guardrail, and screamed at the sky.
46
The storm had eased somewhat, and Malcolm took over driving. The road remained treacherous and visibility dreadful, but the temperature inside the Frazer seemed to have risen a tick. Violet had emptied her stolen gun shooting at the plow. They hadn’t expected the vehicle to crash, but it bought them precious time, and they all intended to make the most of that.
Violet had coaxed Benjy into the passenger seat with her. The boy had continued to cry for nearly half an hour before finally running out of tears. Malcolm thought he had fallen asleep, but when he glanced over, Benjy’s eyes were open and full of sorrow.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Malcolm.”
“Where are we going?”
How to answer that? Malcolm decided not to. “Try to sleep, little buddy. The whole world will seem different tomorrow, when the sun’s up and the storm is over.”
Benjy pondered that. He seemed even younger than his age, but shock and trauma did strange things to children. And not just children.
“My mom and dad are dead,” Benjy whispered, voice cracking. His features twisted up with sadness.
“Mine, too,” Violet whispered, hugging him close.
“Mine, too,” Malcolm said. He jerked a thumb toward the back seat. “That’s my sister back there, so hers, too. We’re all orphans here, kid.”
Benjy narrowed his eyes, looking at him doubtfully. Maybe because the wordorphanseemed so impossible to him right then, or maybe because he knew enough to question whether or not Malcolm and Jennie’s mother was actually dead. After all, Maggie was in the back seat with Jennie, and she moaned and gasped and squirmed with pain that seemed to be increasing by the mile. Malcolm could have told the kid that didn’t mean she was alive, but he didn’t know how to explain that. If Benjy remembered what he’d gone through under Root’s control, he already knew, and if he didn’t remember, Malcolm didn’t feel like trying to make him understand. He’d been through enough.
“Mal,” Jennie said, “it’s getting pretty bad.”
“What can we do?” he asked.
“The cuffs are cutting into her wrists.”
They had removed the handcuffs from Benjy’s wrists and put them on Maggie. It surprised Malcolm that they worked to restrain her, but the closer they drew to Shediak, the more pain she endured and the weaker she became. If she transformed fully, she might still be strong enough to kill them, but for the moment, she lingered in that liminal state, dead but still alive in some way nature would never recognize.
Malcolm didn’t have a good view of Maggie. His eyes were supposed to be on the road. A glance in the rearview mirror only showed him her right side. Jennie had sat her up, but Maggie had slid over and now leaned against the door on the driver’s side, right behind him. He could hear her moan and whimper, but not see her face, and maybe that was best.
“Whatever state she’s in right now,” Violet said, “the pain is still there.”
“From the curse she, what, spoke into the world? Trying to save herself.”
“You don’t know that’s how it happened.” Violet lowered her voice, as if the boy in her arms might be upset by the words.
Malcolm flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. His back andneck and hands ached after so long driving, tensed up, through the storm.
“I know it didn’t happen the way she told Jennie.” He glanced over his shoulder at his sister. “Honestly, Jen, I can’t believe you bought that story. I loved her, but this is Maggie we’re talking about. She never put someone else’s needs ahead of hers in her whole life.”
