Passenger

Stubbornly, Frankie led the way, as though he’d already calculated exactly the course we’d have to follow to intercept Co

As we rode, I kept thinking about what Henry said to me before we left, how he seemed resigned to things that had already been determined, and from time to time I slipped my hand up inside my shirt so I could rub the spot near my belly where I’d been shot with a Hunter’s arrow in some other world, at some other time.

This had to work.

Co

I had to believe we would get home, that I would see Nickie again, that everything would be put in its place, made whole. And Ben and Griffin would not be harmed.

Earlier, when we’d seen Co

Above us, the Marbury sky bled a constant shower of light. It looked like blazing powder that sprinkled like dusty embers in constant, undulating flows.

The hole had grown larger again.

Ben rode closest to me. “What are you going to do when we find him?”

I passed a hand over the one pocket I hadn’t cut out of my jeans so I could feel the contour of the broken lens in there. And I wondered if, u

I exhaled. “I don’t know, Ben.”

“Make sure that asshole Frankie doesn’t fuck things up.”

“You mean worse than Jack already did?”

“Wasn’t your fault. We all did it.”

*   *   *

It was Ethan who saw him first.

Frankie overestimated. He rode past Co

Ethan stopped his horse and turned to face the distant rider.

He pointed to the faint figure, hundreds of yards from us. “He’s over there.”

There was no way of knowing if Co

I glanced back to get an idea of how far Frankie had gone, but I couldn’t even see the kid at all. Still, I knew I needed to hurry.

“The three of you wait here for me.”

Griffin argued, “You have to let us come, too.”

“What if he doesn’t remember you, Griff? What if it isn’t really Co

Griffin bit his lower lip, didn’t say anything.

So I answered for him. “You’ll know in a minute what needs to happen. Just watch me. And keep an eye out for Frankie, too.”

Then I kicked my horse into a trot.

Of course it was him.

I knew it before I’d seen him. I knew Co

And part of me knew, too, how when I found him, Co

It was supposed to happen, right?

All things accomplished.

So there I was, caught halfway between Ben and Griffin, the friends who I wished I might save, and Co

And all I could do was worry, desperately, if this not-world was real, like Henry swore it was; if, maybe, there wouldn’t be any way out for us this time. At least, not all of us together, whole again, going home.

I stopped a hundred feet away from him.

He didn’t see me.

“Con?”

He moved his head, just a little, and the horse quivered.

“Con? I made it. Just like we said we would. You okay?”

I nudged my horse forward.

His horse spun around in a tight clockwise circle, and I saw that where Co

Co

Then he raised his eyes enough that he could see me.

“Jack?”

I jumped down and ran across the dusty ash to where my friend lay slumped on top of his horse.

“Jack?” he said again.

I grabbed the neck of Co

He kept his eyes on me the whole time, unblinking, as though he weren’t sure if it was all some kind of weird dream. His mouth hung open, crusted with dried blood.

One of his eyes was dark. It had turned almost entirely black, so I could barely see the circle of his pupil.

The bug.

I put the flat of my hand on his chest. “It’s time we get the hell out of here, Co

This is how it was supposed to happen, right?

“How long we been here, Jack?”

I shook my head.

“Where is it?” I said.

“Huh?”

I pushed my hand into Co

“The lens. Where’s the lens?”

The glove I had sacked around my palm snagged on his pocket and pulled Co

Co

I tried to jam my hand down into his pocket again.

It had to be there.

“It’s okay, Con.” I patted his chest. “It’s me. What did you do with the lens?”

Then there was shouting, curses, that came from across the empty desert where I’d left the boys.

I turned my head to look.

At the horizon, where the blank ground rose up and vanished seamlessly into the folding haze of the night, I made out the shapes of the boys and their horses. Frankie had returned, and behind them all hovered a flickering line of red embers.

Hunters were coming.

And at that moment I heard the whish from a volley of arrows as they cut through the sky, followed by the panicked cries of Ben and Griffin when they called my name.

“Fuck!”

I hesitated, tried to think of what to do.

“Hang on, Con,” I said. “I’m coming back.”

He coughed an answer.

I picked up Co

An unspent cartridge ejected from the breech.

So I leapt onto my horse and rode to where the boys were coming under attack, toward the winking line of red brands. The Hunters were a small group, a patrol team; maybe ten of them, looking for food.

Us.

“Get on the ground!” I screamed. “Get down now! I have a gun!”

I was afraid I might shoot one of the boys, so I probably waited too long before I pulled off the first burst of fire.

My horse suddenly reared back. He’d been hit by an arrow above the right foreleg. I toppled down from the animal and hit my face hard into the ground as the horse snorted, terrified, and circled away from me.

The other four horses, riderless, thundered past.

One of them had an arrow in his head.

I spit. My mouth was full of ash and blood, and an open gash burned above my eye. I raised my head, stinging, then stood up and began shooting into the line.

More arrows came. They all fell short, dying impotently in the crust of salt ash.

One by one, the red brands of the Hunters collapsed and fell, too.

The rain of arrows stopped.

One of the attackers tried to run back to where he’d come from, but I could see him and kept firing until he finally collapsed, crumpling into the flat of the desert.