Chapter 37: Out Of The Shadows

I crushed the phone to my ear and cried, “Where are you?”

The only answer I got was the sound of an explosion.

By then I was off my chair and charging at the front door.

I heard Benji shout at my back.

I felt the blast of freezing air as I threw the door open.

I ignored both.

My phone became my whole world. I strained to hear a hint of what was happening on Lena’s end. Nothing. I swept it in front of me and flicked to the camera.

I must’ve looked absurd to Benji as he joined me on the balcony. He shivered as he asked, “What the hell, Cameron?”

I didn’t answer.

I swept the camera up and down. If Lena had turned south instead of crossing the street to Safeway as she’d said she was going to, I wouldn’t see any sign of her.

Judging from the burst of flames, she hadn’t.

She’d gone past the strip mall with our nearest grocery store. She stood half a block further north, almost to the hospital. Without the Third Eye filter, I couldn’t have seen her, because her flaming wings and dress, and the fire rippling from Bernie’s mouth, were the only sources of illumination. The dry cleaner and pet spa were both closed, and the convenience store was too far away to light up the sidewalk. There should’ve been a street light, but it had gone out.

Gone out, or been put out?

Because it was obvious that Lena and Bernie weren’t alone. She backpedaled and flung a panel of hot Iron up between her and the darkness. Something slammed against it, sizzled, and slipped beneath. She staggered. She swung her Iron down, too late to catch whatever had hit her.

Fire rippled from Bernie’s mouth and for an instant, I saw a figure silhouetted in the flames.

Tall, tapering, indistinct.

I knew it was the same figure I’d seen lurking by the apartment, the same as at Oxford station.

“What’s going on down there?” Benji asked.

Maybe I should’ve wondered what he was seeing. At that moment, I did not give a single shit.

My free hand clenched the railing.

What was I doing, standing there? I had to move. Run down the three flights of stairs, cross Hampden, pass the parking lot.

But Lena was losing. Every strike pushed her back. They seemed to come so fast.

I’d never reach her in time.

Was this just an invasion? Just a part of the game, one I might hate, but which I had no choice but to accept?

Like hell.

The figure had been stalking us for days. That wasn’t random, open world PVP. It was a planned attack. I had no idea how far the figure would take it.

I had to get down there.

I had to save her.

I had a way to.

I started doing it before my conscious mind caught up to my actions. Might not have thought about it at all, if Benji hadn’t shouted, “Cam, what the hell! Get down from there.”

I did.

Just not the way he meant.

I finished hauling myself over the railing and leapt from the balcony.

I called Plastic with Air and whipped it back to my hand. It happened in an instant, which was good, because an instant was all I had.

I didn’t have enough Air. Not, nearly, enough to fly. I knew that. But to glide?

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No, it turned out. I think the Plastic let me sail forward some, because no matter how much fitter I felt than before I started playing Third Eye, I could never have jumped from the balcony to the sidewalk by Hampden. If it did anything to arrest my fall, though, it sure didn’t amount to much. I had only a couple of seconds to process the insanity of what I’d done. As soon as my legs crashed into the pavement, pain flashed up my whole body.

For one horrible instant, I thought I’d been wrong about HP protecting us from physical harm.

Then, as it always did with Third Eye, the pain vanished, its warning delivered.

I dragged myself to my feet and sprinted across the street. Horns wailed, brakes screeched, and I ignored them.

How much HP had I lost in the fall? How much would I lose if one of those cars hit me?

It didn’t matter. Lena needed me.

None of the cars did hit me. I didn’t hear the crash of metal at my back, so I assumed they hadn’t hit each other, either.

My heart pounded in my chest as I ran, but my lungs didn’t burn, and my legs, which should’ve been shattered by my fall, pumped tirelessly. I wrapped the Plastic around my back and flung my hand forward. Maybe it gave me a tiny burst of speed. Maybe it threw the rhythm of my footfalls off and slowed me down.

Regardless, the strip mall whipped past and I reached the last of the streetlights. There was another at the end of the block. It only served to make the shadows between them, where a third should have illuminated the street and sidewalk, look deeper. I saw the skeleton of it, a line of metal etched by the spillover from the windows of the convenience store.

When I raised my phone, Lena’s light cut through the darkness. Her wings beat frantically. Her fingers danced through the air at the same pace, flicking a battered Iron plate before her.

She was still in the fight.

Alone in the fight.

Her face was streaked with tears, and I realized why as soon as I took in the scene.

Bernie lay at the edge of her light, generating none of his own, unmoving.

We had no idea what happened if a Daimon ran out of HP. Bernie had taken one hit from the creature at the construction site, but not, thank God, enough to drop him.

It seemed we were going to learn.

I hadn’t thought my pulse could quicken, or more blood could rush to my head, but I’d underestimated myself. I knew from panic.

Say hello to rage.

I knew exactly where to direct it.

Silhouetted between Lena and I stood the figure I’d glimpsed from the balcony.

It was taller than me, taller than Benji, maybe as tall as the basketball players Donica served as an agent for. As tall as the pros that Erin’s dad agented? Probably not.

Especially since some of the figure’s height came from the pointed hood of a cloak, which billowed out around its back. In the flickering light, I found it hard to tell where the cloak ended and the shadows began.

It raised a hand, and something – I couldn’t make out if it was cloak or shadow, but it had to be some kind of Third Eye object – lanced up from the ground. Lena stumbled back where it struck her arm. She never had a chance to explode the attack away from her, much less to swing her clumsy shield to intercept it.

So fast! Faster than I’d seen anyone use Earth. That had to be a strike with Air, but what was the Material?

It didn’t change my intentions.

Maybe I could’ve shouted to scare the figure off. After all, even Matt admitted that traveling in teams would discourage invaders.

I didn’t want to discourage the figure.

I wanted to hurt it.

Instead of announcing my presence, I dismissed my Plastic and called up Iron. I tilted the sheet in midair so the sharp edge pointed toward the figure, then struck its exposed back with all the force I could muster.

It staggered.

My lips twisted in a snarling grin.

This wasn’t a monster.

It was – they were – just another player.

I’d already figured as much. Because Albie had told us the creature wouldn’t come after us during the beta. Because if it had, it would’ve had no reason to hide its presence. Above all, because despite the mad shortcuts I’d taken, I’d been minutes away from reaching Lena’s side, yet she was still alive.

Still, I felt far better seeing proof.

Also, I loved seeing this motherfucker flinch.

Lena capitalized on the opening I’d given her. An explosion tore apart the air directly in front of the figure, sending them reeling toward me.

I went low with my Iron and took out their legs.

They crashed to the sidewalk.

I flipped my Iron vertical and brought it down on their midsection once, twice, a third time. By now, I was near enough to hear them grunt. It sounded strange, clipped, distorted.

I drew the Iron back up and prepared to slam my palm downwards once again.

Panic and rage and coursing adrenaline demanded I do exactly that.

I hesitated.

I didn’t know how much HP the figure had, or how much they’d lost fighting Lena. What I did know was that they were another player, another human being, and if they’d run out of HP, I might already be doing them real, lasting harm.

Like they’d done to Bernie, I thought, and tensed my arm.

But Bernie, I reminded myself, was a Third Eye construct.

That was no excuse. He gave every indication of being a living thing, a pet, a part of our family.

It might be an explanation, though. If someone didn’t know about the game’s magical properties, if they’d never interacted with a Daimon, they’d think Bernie was nothing more than an extension of Lena’s powerset. In that case, it would just be good tactics to take him out first, with no more moral weight than popping a summoning class’s pet in an online game.

I couldn’t forgive someone who’d hurt Bernie.

I couldn’t bring myself to try to hurt them over a mistake, though.

All of that ran through my head in a few heartbeats.

Unfortunately, that was more than enough time for the figure to prove they hadn’t run out of HP.