“The ten-year-old in me wants to climb that thing,” Price said through a pot-smoking grin.
Sanchez barely heard him. He was watching the seeds. They were drifting on the breeze, headed away from them, but then, as though being steered, they shifted in midair and headed back in Price’s direction.
“Price,” Sanchez whispered. “Are you watching this?”
Price turned, started to ask something, then saw the seeds swooping down toward them—against the wind.
“What the fuck—”
First, one seed landed on Price, followed by another, then another. Within seconds, he was half-covered in the dandelion seeds.
Price looked down at himself, then looked up at Sanchez. He had a bemused expression on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly, his expression froze.
“What’s wrong?” Sanchez asked.
But Price didn’t answer. As more and more of the drifting seeds landed on him, he
couldn’t
answer. There were too many seeds now. Far more than the one dandelion would account for. Sanchez took a step back. Seeds from nearby, oversized dandelions were springing free and floating toward Price.
“Price?”
The man looked up at Sanchez. He opened his mouth but immediately one seed after another flew in between his teeth. He let out a muffled groan, what might have been a shout.
Spots of blood began popping up all over his body. The seeds tore into his clothes. Into his skin.
The seeds
, Sanchez realized,
are eating him
.
The M16 was still in Sanchez’s hands, and for an instant he thought about using it to put Price out of his misery. But he noticed some of the seeds had altered course. Now they were headed toward him.
He turned away and started running. Shouldering the M16, unclipping the radio from his belt, he toggled the switch and shouted Boyle’s name. For a second or two there was silence, and then Boyle’s voice came over the line, asking what was wrong.
But Sanchez never got a chance to tell him. Before he could, something grabbed his leg. Suddenly he was no longer on his feet. He was weightless, watching the radio fall to the ground. Then he hit the ground, too, and the thing gripping his leg squeezed and started pulling him back. Sanchez tore at the ground, his nails clawing in the dirt, his fingers tearing out the grass, but it did no good. Whatever had his leg, kept pulling him back, and the seeds were landing on him now, burrowing into his body, eating him alive, just as the others had devoured Price.
His last thought was of Frey, the man’s legs gone, his bandages bleeding through, dying quietly and alone on a cot.
Lucky bastard
.
2
“Anything?”
Cash didn’t answer. He stretched up as tall as he could on the stepladder, right up on his tiptoes, looking over the top of the bell.
“Well?” Griffin asked, crossing his arms as he stifled a yawn. He was more than exhausted, and he knew that this slight reprieve wasn’t going to last.
They were up at the top of the church, right beside the bell. Cash was inspecting it on Griffin’s behest, despite the fact that Winslow and Dodge had already given the steeple a once over.
Cash started down the stepladder, shaking his head. “Winslow was right. It’s just an ordinary bell.”
“How can that be possible?”
Cash shrugged. “You got me. But nothing’s rigged up to the bell. No wires, no cables, nothing. And you’d need some pretty sizable electronics to get this bell moving the way it has been. I checked the walls with a noncontact voltage probe. There isn’t a single electrical wire in the steeple.”
Griffin turned away and stared out over Refuge, at the endless ocean that surrounded them. Under different circumstances he might find the view breathtaking. Hell, it
was
breathtaking, especially since this world’s bright sun and high winds had all but scoured the ash away, but he didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty and awesomeness of the sight. He’d already snapped a picture of the view with his phone, but that was it. There was no telling when they would shift again. So far this world didn’t seem dangerous, so they needed to learn as much as they could before things changed again.
A hand fell on his shoulder, Cash giving him a slight squeeze.
“Are we good here? I want to get back to Laurie.”
Griffin nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“Wish I could give you some answers, but right now I’m at a loss.”
“It just doesn’t make sense. Every time before we shift, this bell starts ringing like crazy.”
Cash gave him a curious look. “Shift?”
“Winslow’s term.”
“Well,” Cash shrugged again, “like I told you, I wish I could give you some answers, but there’s nothing in this place that suggests it’s part of what’s been happening—if you ignore the whole bell ringing thing, of course. Who knows, maybe Dodge is right? Maybe it’s supernatural?”
“Ghosts then?” Griffin said with a shake of his head.
“I think Dodge would say demons. But I really wouldn’t know about that. What I do know is that no one here can explain what’s happening. So maybe we shouldn’t rule out the unexplainable.”
Griffin released a breath. He nodded again. He appreciated everything the electrician had done so far, especially after what he had just gone through at the radio station and the diner.
They started toward the stairs, Cash carrying the stepladder, when something changed in the air. A slight trembling started beneath their feet, traveling into their bodies. The air around them became thinner. The bell that Cash claimed wasn’t connected to anything other than the usual rope started swaying.
With a flash of anger, Griffin gripped the bottom of the bell and attempted to hold it still. But the massive weight nearly pulled him out over the hole. He let go, but his right hand remained stuck to the bell’s surface.
Not my hand
, he realized.
My wrist!
He was wearing a watch. The metal band was stuck against the bell’s surface—the bell’s
magnetized
surface. He wondered briefly how a brass bell could be magnetized, but quickly decided a small town church probably hadn’t sprung for a pure brass bell. The metal likely contained iron as well.
As his body leaned out over the hole beneath the bell, Cash caught his belt and kept him from falling. As the bell swayed back, Griffin yanked his hand free of the watch. Cash tugged him back to his feet, and the pair stared at the watch, fastened securely to the bell, which was picking up speed. Griffin admitted defeat, decided his watch was a lost cause, and shouted, “Go!”
Cash hurried down the stairs without even a glance back. Griffin paused for a moment. He wished he could stay up here and see if anything happened to the bell during the shift, something that might clue them in to what was happening, but he also didn’t want to lose his hearing. Even if he clamped his hands over his ears, the loudness and pitch would be enough to burst his eardrums.
He started down the stairs, holding the railing as he went, so he didn’t fall and break his neck. And wouldn’t that just be great? After everything he had managed to survive so far—after taking the responsibility Rule had given him—to have it all end with a clumsy tumble? No, he couldn’t let that happen, not while he was tasked with finding out what was going on and not while he had Avalon to care for. He went as quickly as he could, watching his footing, while behind him the bell began to toll for them all.
Cash had dropped the stepladder at the bottom of the stairs. Griffin almost tripped over it coming down, but hopped over it, ducked through the door and sprinted toward the front of the church. Cash stood by the door, his hands to his ears as the bell’s chime became incessant. He pushed the front door open with his back and waited. Griffin didn’t realize he had also clamped his hands over his own ears until he nodded his thanks as he passed Cash and hurried down the steps outside.
Helena Frost, Pastor Ken Dodge and Julie Barnes—who was supposed to be watching over his daughter, Radar and Lisa—were standing outside of the church, all of them covering their ears. Already the world around them was starting to change. The endless ocean, a sliver of blue at the edge of town, now that he was standing at street level, began wavering and flickering.
Griffin turned and stared up at the church, convinced he would see something happening to it during the shift. But the bell kept ringing, becoming more and more hysterical, and by the time it began to slow, nothing about the church had changed.
A finger tapped him on the shoulder.
He looked down and found Frost standing beside him. He realized he still had his hands over his ears and lowered them.
“It’s like we’ve shrunk,” she said.
“What?”
But when he looked away from the church, he understood the comment. He looked past her, out beyond Main Street, and saw what the world beyond Refuge had become. The first thing he noticed were the gigantic trees. How could he not? They were spaced out maybe a mile or so apart from each other, but each stood at least a half mile tall.
Griffin pulled his phone from his pocket, held it up toward the view, and snapped a picture.
“Did you find anything up top?” Frost asked.
Griffin shook his head, pocketing the phone. “Well, it’s not ghosts moving the bell. It’s some kind of magnetic force.” He held up his bare wrist. “Stole my watch. Other than that, we’re still clueless. You?”
Frost had searched the first floor of the church, on the off chance Dodge and Winslow had missed something.
“Aside from expired grape juice on its way to becoming wine, not a thing.”
Cash cleared his throat. “Helena—sorry—
Sheriff
, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to check on Sam’s kid. See how he’s holding up.”
“Of course,” Frost said. “Thanks for the help.”
Cash nodded, looking like he wanted to say something, his eyes momentarily flashing toward Julie. Griffin understood the hostility Cash held toward the woman, and he couldn’t say he blamed him, but he was thankful that Cash was trying to be as civil as he could, under the circumstances. The woman tried to fit in at first, wearing flannel and shit-kicker boots, but she might as well have been wearing a zebra Halloween costume on the savannah. Griffin knew a lot of people like her, from the occasional art show in Boston or New York, and had given her a chance. But her presence here, rather than with Avalon, spoke volumes about her reliability.
“Where are the kids?” he asked her.
“Oh,” she said, like she’d forgotten about them. “They seemed fine.”
“They’re young,” he said, and he thought:
and Ava’s coming down from an Oxycontin high
.
The electrician started to head away when the radio on Frost’s belt chirped with static.
“Sheriff?”
It was Winslow Herman. He and Kyle Gardner—the old scientist and the young doctor—had inspected the dead flying creature from the first shift, before heading to the diner to inspect the bodies up there, some of which were neighbors, some of which weren’t even human. Gardner had been apprehensive about returning to the diner, but as the only medical professional in town, he had understood that his opinion was important. He hadn’t been a doctor very long, but he seemed competent and brave, despite an appropriate level of fear. The men hoped that comparing post mortems of the various dead would shed some light on where they were visiting and what they were encountering.
Frost pulled the radio from her belt. “Go ahead.”
“You might want to get down here. There’s something you need to see.”
3
Winslow and Kyle waited for them outside the diner.
Frost pulled into the parking lot, Griffin beside her in the passenger seat, Dodge in the back. Julie had been left behind, much to her chagrin, when Griffin asked her to go back and check on Avalon. Frost parked the cruiser beside Winslow’s SUV, cut the engine, and stepped out.
“Did you find—?”
Winslow shook his head. She couldn’t read his expression, or Kyle’s.
“Well?” she said, her patience waning.
Kyle hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s around the back.”
Winslow and Kyle led them toward the back of the diner. Immediately, Griffin murmured, “Holy shit,” and Dodge began whispering a prayer beneath his breath.
“What…what
is
that?” Frost asked.
The border of Refuge and this new world was no more than two hundred yards away. The grass stood tall, but it was the thing lying in the tall grass that captured everyone’s attention.
Without a word, they all started toward the object. One of those gigantic trees rose up into the sky, a half mile away, just beyond the town’s border. Even with the distance, the thing towered above them. Frost wondered about the size of its leaves. Maybe as big as her. Maybe as big as the cruiser.
Winslow spoke as they neared the object. “When the church bell started up, Kyle and I hurried outside. We knew what it meant and wanted to see it happen. This was already here when we circled the diner.”
They stopped fifty yards away. The sickening sight kept them at bay, but the smell was worse, like rotting fish and ammonia.
“Is that what I think it is?” Griffin asked. He already had his phone out, snapping a picture. Winslow gave him a bemused smile. “That depends on what you think it is.”
“It looks like a tail.”
“That it does,” Winslow said.”
“A
dinosaur
tail?” Griffin asked.
Winslow cleared his throat. “I’m hardly an expert. Paleontology shares very little with astrophysics. Not even an ‘ology’. But the size is all wrong. This tail alone is longer than anything that’s ever lived on Earth, since the beginning of time.”
“So Godzilla’s tail?” Kyle said.
Winslow frowned. “Sounds about right. But I don’t think we have to worry about its owner. Whatever it was must have been standing within the town’s border when we arrived. It was destroyed upon our arrival.”
Frost blinked her eyes and tried to remain focused. After everything they had seen and experienced so far, this was quite possibly the most fascinating thing yet.
A tail...yes, she saw it now. Its length was maybe one hundred yards long. Big and thick, nearly the size of a tractor-trailer at its largest end, which was cut clean through and cauterized.
Just like Sheriff Rule
, she thought, and shuddered.
Winslow continued. “Every time we arrive in one of these new worlds, we’re destroying a part of it.”
“Which might help explain why we have yet to receive a warm welcome,” Griffin said.
“Well, whatever this thing was,” Kyle said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “it’s dead now. Don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m thankful for small miracles.”
“We should head back to town,” Griffin said. “We don’t know what the rest of this creature looked like, but we know it was huge. If this thing is still here, it’s a safe bet there are probably more nearby. If even one of them were to simply stroll through town, never mind attack...” He shook his head.
“We need weapons,” Winslow said.
Griffin patted the sidearm on his hip. “I don’t think handguns are going to do much.”
“I’m not referring to the handguns and shotguns everyone in town pulled out of their gun cabinets. I mean heavy artillery. Anything that will give us a fighting chance against something like this.”
“And not just one of these things,” Kyle said, “but whatever else we might face. We have to consider the possibility that these shifts aren’t going to stop anytime soon. That church bell is going to ring again and we’ll be transported someplace else, and only God knows what will be waiting for us there.”
They were quiet for a moment then, absorbing that thought, while the tall grass surrounding the impossibly large appendage swayed in a steady breeze.
“The depot.”
The voice came from behind the group. At first, Frost wasn’t sure who had spoken, until she glanced back and saw Dodge, who she’d all but forgotten about.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Weapons,” he said, looking flustered. “Mr. Herman referred to
heavy artillery
. Well, the only place you might find something like that in Refuge, is at the National Guard depot.”
Griffin was shaking his head. “The depot hasn’t been active in over a year. I can’t imagine there would be much of anything there, let alone weapons.”
“Still,” Frost said. “It’s worth a look.”
“And if we find nothing?” Griffin asked.
Frost opened her mouth to reply, but it was Dodge who spoke. “Those of us in the Churching business call that, ‘a good time to find God and get on your knees.’”