Part 23 (1/2)

Then I called fire and melted the sand around the ghoul's exposed head into a sheet of gla.s.s.

It screamed and screamed, which did not matter to me in the least. The sheer heat of the molten sand burned away its features, its eyes, its lips and tongue, even as the trauma forced the ghoul into its true form. I upended the jug of juice. Some of it splashed on the ghoul's head. Some of it sizzled on the narrow band of gla.s.s around it. I walked calmly, pouring orange juice on the ground in a steady line until, ten feet later, I reached the enormous nest of fire ants one of the trainees had stumbled into on our first day at Camp Kaboom.

Presently, the first scouts started following the trail back to the ghoul.

I turned on the second ghoul.

It cringed away from me, holding completely still. The only sound was the raw whisper-screams of the other ghoul.

”I'm not going to kill you,” I told the ghoul in a very quiet voice. ”You get to carry word to your kind.” I thrust the end of my staff against its chest and stared down. Wisps of sulfurous smoke trickled down the length of the wooden shaft and over the maimed ghoul. ”Tell them this.” I leaned closer. ”Never again. Tell them that. Never again. Or h.e.l.l itself will not hide you from me.”

The ghoul groveled. ”Great one. Great one.”

I roared again and started kicking the ghoul as hard as I could. I kept it up until it floundered away from me, heading for the open desert with only one leg and one arm, the movements freakish and terrified.

I watched until the maimed ghoul was gone.

By then, the ants had found his buddy. I stood over it for a time and beheld what I had wrought without looking away.

I felt Ramirez's presence behind me. ”Dios, ”Dios,” he whispered.

I said nothing.

Moments later, Ramirez said, ”What happened to not hating them?”

”Things change.”

Ramirez didn't move, and his voice was so low I could barely hear it. ”How many lessons will it take the kids to learn this one, do you think?”

The rage came swarming up again.

”Battle is one thing,” Ramirez said. ”This is something else. Look at them.”

I suddenly felt the weight of dozens and dozens of eyes upon me. I turned to find the trainees, all pale, shocked, and silent, staring at me. They looked terrified.

I fought the frustration and anger back down. Ramirez was right. Of course he was right. Dammit.

I drew my gun and executed the ghoul.

”Dios,” Ramirez breathed. He stared at me for a moment. ”Never seen you like this.” Ramirez breathed. He stared at me for a moment. ”Never seen you like this.”

I started feeling the minor burns. The sun began turning Camp Kaboom into a giant cookie sheet that would sear away anything soft. ”Like what?”

”Cold,” he said, finally.

”That's the only way to serve it up,” I said. ”Cold.”

Cold.

Cold.

I came back to myself. No more New Mexico. Dark. Cold, so cold that it burned. Chest tight.

I was in the water.

My chest hurt. I managed to look up.

Sun shone down on fractured ice about eight inches thick. It came back to me. The battle aboard the Water Beetle. Water Beetle. The ghouls. The lake. The ice had broken and I had fallen through. The ghouls. The lake. The ice had broken and I had fallen through.

I couldn't see far, and when the ghoul came through the water, swimming like a crocodile, its arms flat against its sides, it was close enough to touch. It spotted me at the same time, and turned away.

Never again.

I reached out and grabbed on to the back of the jeans the ghoul still wore. It panicked, swimming fast, and dived down into the cold and dark, trying to scare me into letting go.

I was aware that I had to breathe, and that I was already beginning to black out. I dismissed it as unimportant. This ghoul was never going to hurt anyone else, ever again, if I had to die to make sure of it. Everything started going dark.

And then there was another pale shape in the water. Thomas, this time, s.h.i.+rtless, holding that crooked knife in his teeth. He closed on the ghoul, which writhed and twisted with such fear and desperation that it tore my weakening fingers lose from their grip.

I drifted. Felt something cold wrap my right wrist. Felt light coming closer, painfully bright.

And then my face was out of the frozen water, and I sucked in a weak gasp of air. I felt a slender arm slip under my chin, and then I was being pulled through the water. Elaine. I'd recognize the touch of her skin to mine anywhere.

We broke the surface, and she let out a gasp, then started pulling me toward the dock. With the help of Olivia and the other women, Elaine managed to get me up out of the lake. I fell to my side and lay there s.h.i.+vering violently, gasping down all the air I could. The world slowly began to return to its usual shape, but I was too tired to do anything about it.

I don't know how much time went by, but the sirens were close by the time Thomas appeared and hauled himself out of the water.

”Go,” Thomas said. ”Can he walk? Is he shot?”

”No,” Elaine said. ”It might be shock; I don't know. I think he hit his head on something.”

”We can't stay here,” Thomas said. I felt him pick me up and sling me over a shoulder. He did it as gently as such a thing can be done.

”Right,” Elaine said. ”Come on. Everyone, keep up and don't get separated.”

I felt motion. My head hurt. A lot.

”I gotcha,” Thomas said to me, as he started walking. ”It's cool, Harry,” he murmured. ”They're safe. We got everyone clear. I gotcha.”

My brother's word was good enough for me.

I closed my eyes and stopped trying to keep track of things.