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It was the beast.
She shook her head and stifled a hysterical laugh. Isn’t that what he’d told her?
What are you?
He turned to her once more and barked a low-timbered growl that sent shivers racing across her flesh. Kira took a step toward him even as everything inside screamed at her to flee. Her chest tightened, filled with the childhood fears she’d dreamt about for years. Was he her enemy? Or her savior?
The red eyes burned bright and the animal nodded its head. He wanted her to run, and yet . . . Kira still hesitated.
The trojans closest to Logan lunged, filling the evening air with a screech that was like chalk scraping along a blackboard, and Logan—or rather, the beast—met it halfway. The two bodies crashed together with a sickening thud and it was enough to shake her from the invisible hands that held her.
Kira took a step back, flexing her muscles and gathering the courage to run. The other creatures spread out along the side, effectively cutting off any escape for her. They hissed, the vibrations heavy in the air and licking across her body with a vibrato that made her skin crawl.
In the distance, grass-cutting man continued his solitary job, retracing the same rows she’d watched him trim not more than half an hour ago. A soft red glow from the moon bathed everything in red. It was surreal. It was unbelievable.
As O’Bannon, another patient at the Institute used to say . . . this place was a total mind fuck.
Kira didn’t hesitate any longer. She whirled around, her feet flying over the grass as she dove for the fountain. The trojans were on either side, but if she was able to make it across the damn thing, she might have a chance at reaching the forest ahead of them.
Her long yellow skirt trailed out behind her and she felt a tug as she hopped over. Kira nearly fell to her
knees as the fresh, cool water splashed up to her waist. It was much deeper than she’d anticipated and she righted herself, cursing as she struggled to gain her footing. The bottom of the fountain was made of hundreds, if not thousands, of shiny pennies, much like the ones her nana used to collect.
They shimmered beneath the surface, a burnt copper mirage, lit up by an incandescent light that came from nowhere. For a second she was mesmerized by them, but then the trojan closest to her reached for the edge of the fountain. Its long claw grasped the stone lip and made an eerie sound as its nails scraped along the top.
A song drifted to her then, a melodic kaleidoscope of notes, and the creature paused, momentarily entranced with the strange new sound. It came from a small truck that slowly made its way across the pristine park, and on its side bright pink letters that looked like candy cane clouds read, Ice Cream Man.
Another memory tugged at her. Hot summer afternoons, Ice Cream Man in his special truck with the song that drove her mother nuts.
She shook the memory from her mind and plunged forward, frowning as the water got deeper the farther along she got. Panic nipped at her heels. It was hard to make her way through.
Behind her the sounds that ripped into the night were loud enough to tear a hole the size of Texas into the atmosphere—they were brutal, primal.
She’d just cleared the large center sculpture—a massive replica of a cherub with water spouting out of its mouth—when she paused and turned around.
The remaining trojans had formed a circle around their leader and Logan . . . or the beast . . . or whatever the hell he was. She winced as a howl erupted from their midst.
Was it him? Logan?
Her foot slipped and Kira disappeared beneath the surface, unable to stop the pull that grabbed her legs and dragged her under. She looked up, hands flailing clumsily, but it was no use and she panicked as she began a downward descent.
Bubbles rose in front of her, small balls of air that came up to the surface like balloons in the sky. She watched them, a silent scream trapped in her throat. All kinds of thoughts rushed through her mind but one was foremost: if she was already dead . . . how could she die again?
That thought scared her more than anything and she began to thrash, though it did her no good. She kicked and clawed, and still she headed down into the darkness.
How deep was this fountain? Did it matter? She stopped moving and still she sank. Bubbles popped in front of her and she watched them rise as she headed in the other direction, pulled by some invisible force.
Kira’s mind was chaotic, her head dizzy.
She saw Mergerone’s cruel smile.
She saw her grandmother, Catherine, arms open . . . beckoning to her. I’m going the wrong way.
She saw a crimson glow surrounding Logan’s face.
And then there was nothing.
Chapter Seven
