[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
his neck or the drone of the professor at the front of the lecture hall, miles away.
There were trees all around him. Tall trees, silver in the moonlight. The moon was
bloated and leering, and he didn t like looking at it.
He was lost and running. The sensible part of him wanted him to stop, catch his
bearings, and formulate a plan, but he couldn t get control of his feet. Branches snapped in
his face, blood dripping down the bridge of his nose, and despite himself, he held his hands
up over his face and ran even more blindly on.
And still, whatever chased him followed, baying at his heels. It wasn t a dog. An animal
wouldn t have triggered such a panic response in him. Whatever was chasing him promised
to do more than just rend his flesh, and that left him with such wordless terror he tore
through the endless night trying to get away.
Something grabbed his arm. He didn t scream, but not because he didn t want to. His
vocal cords were frozen. His arms weren t, and he fought, slamming the palm of his hand
Master of the Lines 5: Coda 43
into whatever had him, but instead of feeling cartilage crunch, his hand hit nothing. His
sleeve was pulled again, from a different angle this time, but by then, he was mostly in the
now-empty lecture hall and not in the forest. Jinx stared at him, eyes wide. If anyone had to
wake him up, Kane was very glad it was Jinx, who was fast enough and smart enough to have
gotten out of the way. Damn it, Jinx. I could have killed you, Kane said, and rubbed his
face.
Kane stared down at him, frown frozen on his face. He shook Kane s arm a third time.
Kane had to brace himself to pull himself free from Jinx s arm. Jinx s eyebrow s furrowed,
and he looked significantly past Kane s shoulder. Mr. Samuels? Was there something about
tonight s lecture that was particularly dry for you? the professor asked.
Kane squinted at him, unable to pull the man s name up. Nor could he even recall what
class this was. He shook his head and hid a yawn, not very convincingly, behind the back of
his hand. He didn t answer the man. His vocal cords felt scratched.
Jinx put his hand over Kane s shoulder. The professor cleared his throat, trying to catch
Jinx s attention, and when Jinx didn t give it to him, he spoke. Thank you, Jinx. You may
go.
Jinx made a sound. To Kane, it was as good as a fat chance, but then, no one really
spoke Jinx. I m all right, Kane told him and got the same sound himself. I m sorry, he said
to the professor. I m tired, and it s been a long day.
It s barely five o clock in the afternoon, the man said. The high windows in the
lecture hall let in grimy orange light. Kane stood up, fast enough that Jinx almost fell
backward. Fast enough that the professor s eyes got very wide, and he stepped back.
Mr. Samuels, the professor tried again, but Kane already had started down the row in
the other direction. Jinx hesitated, throwing up his arms in a what can you do? gesture, and
followed Kane quickly to the opposite aisle.
44 Angela Fiddler
The halls were deserted. The class got out at four fifty p.m., but it was a Friday. The
few rows of lockers in the annex had all been welded shut as a safety precaution years ago,
but other than that, the hall had remained practically the same from the very beginning.
Kane s nightmare was so near to the surface, he saw the school s dead reaching out for him
from shadows that had no source. Young men in uniform stood shoulder to shoulder with
pretty girls in poodle skirts and grunge kids of indeterminate gender. Kane wanted to throw
up his hands again and bolt for the first exit, but he knew that acknowledging them would
make them real.
He grabbed Jinx s hand, pulling him behind him, and it wasn t until they were out in
the clear autumn day with the first touch of chill on the evening air that Kane could exhale.
All around him, the trees without an ounce of malice in their height had just begun their
final swan song, turning brilliant oranges and golds, reds and yellows as though they could
mask the drab, postwar brick buildings behind Kane with their brilliance. A smell of burning
wafted on the air, wood smoke combining with something with a high sugar content.
The sun was orange in the sky, just above the horizon. He grabbed Jinx s elbow, pulling
him toward the student parking lot. Jinx escaped his grasp and glared, then made a point of
straightening the sleeve of the gray sweater that he wore. His hair had escaped the ponytail
he d pulled it back into, and he tucked the strands behind his ear.
Jinx -- Kane began, but Jinx cut him off.
Don t pull, Jinx said. His voice was soft, but if he could have bristled like an upset cat,
Kane knew he would have.
He forced himself to relax. He let the sharp breath he was holding go and took a new,
clean one. Can we please get back before it gets dark? Kane asked. The impatience was
gone, and that left nothing to mask the fear. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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his neck or the drone of the professor at the front of the lecture hall, miles away.
There were trees all around him. Tall trees, silver in the moonlight. The moon was
bloated and leering, and he didn t like looking at it.
He was lost and running. The sensible part of him wanted him to stop, catch his
bearings, and formulate a plan, but he couldn t get control of his feet. Branches snapped in
his face, blood dripping down the bridge of his nose, and despite himself, he held his hands
up over his face and ran even more blindly on.
And still, whatever chased him followed, baying at his heels. It wasn t a dog. An animal
wouldn t have triggered such a panic response in him. Whatever was chasing him promised
to do more than just rend his flesh, and that left him with such wordless terror he tore
through the endless night trying to get away.
Something grabbed his arm. He didn t scream, but not because he didn t want to. His
vocal cords were frozen. His arms weren t, and he fought, slamming the palm of his hand
Master of the Lines 5: Coda 43
into whatever had him, but instead of feeling cartilage crunch, his hand hit nothing. His
sleeve was pulled again, from a different angle this time, but by then, he was mostly in the
now-empty lecture hall and not in the forest. Jinx stared at him, eyes wide. If anyone had to
wake him up, Kane was very glad it was Jinx, who was fast enough and smart enough to have
gotten out of the way. Damn it, Jinx. I could have killed you, Kane said, and rubbed his
face.
Kane stared down at him, frown frozen on his face. He shook Kane s arm a third time.
Kane had to brace himself to pull himself free from Jinx s arm. Jinx s eyebrow s furrowed,
and he looked significantly past Kane s shoulder. Mr. Samuels? Was there something about
tonight s lecture that was particularly dry for you? the professor asked.
Kane squinted at him, unable to pull the man s name up. Nor could he even recall what
class this was. He shook his head and hid a yawn, not very convincingly, behind the back of
his hand. He didn t answer the man. His vocal cords felt scratched.
Jinx put his hand over Kane s shoulder. The professor cleared his throat, trying to catch
Jinx s attention, and when Jinx didn t give it to him, he spoke. Thank you, Jinx. You may
go.
Jinx made a sound. To Kane, it was as good as a fat chance, but then, no one really
spoke Jinx. I m all right, Kane told him and got the same sound himself. I m sorry, he said
to the professor. I m tired, and it s been a long day.
It s barely five o clock in the afternoon, the man said. The high windows in the
lecture hall let in grimy orange light. Kane stood up, fast enough that Jinx almost fell
backward. Fast enough that the professor s eyes got very wide, and he stepped back.
Mr. Samuels, the professor tried again, but Kane already had started down the row in
the other direction. Jinx hesitated, throwing up his arms in a what can you do? gesture, and
followed Kane quickly to the opposite aisle.
44 Angela Fiddler
The halls were deserted. The class got out at four fifty p.m., but it was a Friday. The
few rows of lockers in the annex had all been welded shut as a safety precaution years ago,
but other than that, the hall had remained practically the same from the very beginning.
Kane s nightmare was so near to the surface, he saw the school s dead reaching out for him
from shadows that had no source. Young men in uniform stood shoulder to shoulder with
pretty girls in poodle skirts and grunge kids of indeterminate gender. Kane wanted to throw
up his hands again and bolt for the first exit, but he knew that acknowledging them would
make them real.
He grabbed Jinx s hand, pulling him behind him, and it wasn t until they were out in
the clear autumn day with the first touch of chill on the evening air that Kane could exhale.
All around him, the trees without an ounce of malice in their height had just begun their
final swan song, turning brilliant oranges and golds, reds and yellows as though they could
mask the drab, postwar brick buildings behind Kane with their brilliance. A smell of burning
wafted on the air, wood smoke combining with something with a high sugar content.
The sun was orange in the sky, just above the horizon. He grabbed Jinx s elbow, pulling
him toward the student parking lot. Jinx escaped his grasp and glared, then made a point of
straightening the sleeve of the gray sweater that he wore. His hair had escaped the ponytail
he d pulled it back into, and he tucked the strands behind his ear.
Jinx -- Kane began, but Jinx cut him off.
Don t pull, Jinx said. His voice was soft, but if he could have bristled like an upset cat,
Kane knew he would have.
He forced himself to relax. He let the sharp breath he was holding go and took a new,
clean one. Can we please get back before it gets dark? Kane asked. The impatience was
gone, and that left nothing to mask the fear. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]