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Sam extended his hand, palm out.
FORTY-SIX
01 MINUTES
A CLEAR SHOT.
With a thought, he could kill Caine.
But the world around him faded. Astrid, lying in a heap, seemed bleached, colorless, almost translucent. Caine himself, a ghost.
No sound. The screams of children were muted. The battle between Drake and Orc moved in slow motion, the attacks by the coyotes, all of it frame-by-frame, human and beast and monster.
Sam’s body was numb, as if it had died and left only his brain still whirring away inside his skull.
It’s time, a voice said.
He knew that voice and the sound of it was a knife in his guts.
His mother stood before him. She was as beautiful as she had always been to him. Her hair stirred in a breeze he did not feel. Her blue eyes were the only true color.
“Happy birthday,” she said.
“No,” he whispered, though his lips did not move.
“You really are the man now,” she said, and her mouth made a wry smile.
“My little man,” she said.
“No.”
She stretched out her hand to him. “Come.”
“I can’t,” he said.
“Sam, I’m your mother. I love you. Come with me.”
“Mom…”
“Just reach out to me. I’m safe. I can carry you away, out of this place.”
Sam shook his head slowly, slowly, like he was drowning in molasses. Something was happening to time. Astrid wasn’t breathing. Nothing was moving. The whole world was frozen.
“It will be like it was,” his mother said.
“It was never…,” he began. “You lied to me. You never told me…”
“I never lied,” she said, and frowned at him, disappointed.
“You never told me I had a brother. You never told—”
“Just come with me,” she said, impatient now, jerking her hand a little like she would when he was a little kid and refused to take her hand to cross the street. “Come with me now, Sam. You’ll be safe and out of this place.”
He reacted instinctively, the little boy again, reacted to the “mommy” voice, the “obey me” voice. He reached for her, stretched his hand out to her.
And pulled it back.
“I can’t,” Sam whispered. “I have someone I have to stay here for.”
