Chapter 53
Save The One Who Made My Life A Hell
LYRA
Chance was the only pledge who didn’t ignore me.
A flashing of memories unfolds in my mind like a flip book.
Chance stuffing me in a closet so I couldn’t go on a score.
Chance arguing with me over the money he earned from another score.
Chance being such a nuisance in the communal showers that I started showering at the local YMCA.
Chance telling every pledge in hearing distance that I was pathetically in love with Boone.
If it didn’t involve me dying in here, I’m pretty sure I would leave his ass behind.
No choice. So start saving.
“Can you see that?” I point at the combine or whatever that thing is.
With a sneer, Chance glances over his shoulder, then back at me. “What kind of question is that?”
Which tells me nothing. “Yes or no. Do you see it?”
He crosses his arms, feet planted wide. “Of course I see it, Keres.”
That will at least make it easier to get him to run from it, unlike my mother and the field monster. “It’s about to try to kill us.” I’m still backing up, keeping an eye on the machine and on him. I need him to follow me. If he dies in the first few seconds, then I’m screwed.
He doesn’t budge. “Gods in Olympus, what delusional bullshit are you spouting now?”
On that final word, the combine starts rolling.
“Holy shit,” he yelps.
But at least, with nowhere else to go, he takes off running. Unfortunately, he also gives me a terrific rugby-style shoulder as he sprints past. Hard enough that I end up slamming into the stone wall, and it’s lucky I don’t fall over completely, but it means I’m behind him now as we both run.
That thing chasing us down is going just fast enough that nothing less than a hard run is going to keep us ahead of it.
And it becomes patently obvious that Chance is so terrified, he’s lost all sense of reason.
Instead of running in a straight line, he starts ping-ponging back and forth between the walls, and I can hear him vaguely mumbling something about finding a door in frantic bursts of words.
“There are no doors in this wall,” I yell ahead at him.
He ignores me, still going back and forth between the walls. It’s slowed him down enough for me to catch up.
“Follow me,” I call as I dash past him.
Out of the side of my eye, I catch that not only does he not follow, but instead he decides to try to climb the wall, and the combine is bearing down fast.
“Damn him.” I double back.
At least he got high enough that his feet will be above the blades when the combine gets to him. With the sounds of the engines and the blades turning getting louder and louder in my ears, I scramble up after him as fast as I can.
I can feel the vibration of the metal on the air and am bracing for the blades to strike me down even as I keep going. I just barely get clear, pulling my dangling foot up at the last second, knee to my chest so that it doesn’t slice it off.
But the combine backs up several feet and stops to raise the level of the churning blades.
“Keep climbing,” I yell at Chance, shoving at him from underneath.
“It doesn’t want me,” he yells back. “Obviously it’s here for you.”
I look up just in time for his thick, booted foot to crash into my face.
And I fall.
Arms windmilling, I manage to keep my gaze glued to Chance’s face and the way he offers me a grin that is a caricature of evil. I don’t even have that far to fall, but suddenly I’m remembering the moment Boone fell off the tower during Hephaestus’ Labor. The way he dropped to his death.
Is it my turn?
I hit the tilled earth in a way that knocks the wind from me, but not nearly as much as it would have if the ground wasn’t already churned up and softened. I jerk my head back and upside down to look for the combine.
Maybe the blades are locked into place before the machine can roll forward or something, but instead of bringing them down on top of me, the machine comes straight at me.
I have only enough time to roll over, out of the way of the tank-like tracks that it has instead of wheels, and cover my head with my arms as it drives over.
The thing doesn’t drive entirely past me before it stops and then backs up.
But I’d rather be on the back side of it than the front, so I start crawling as fast as I can, elbows and knees flying until I manage to get out from under it. I don’t even remember thinking I should get to my feet before I’m up and wheeling to face it as it backs up at me.
I sprint to the side and the gap between the body of the vehicle and the wall. Thanks to the wider spinning bit, there’s plenty of room for me not to get pinned between it and the rock wall. I run for the ladder that leads up into the cab.
The thing gives a shudder as I climb up the rungs, like it’s not sure how to get me off.
It really must be possessed, too, because it’s trying to knock Chance off the wall with the blades, turning slightly so that it’s whacking into the wall, and his foot slips so that he’s dangling by both hands, screaming for his life.
When I try the handle to the door of the cab, it’s locked. Immediately, I have my axe out and use the butt of it to break the window. I have to waste an extra few seconds to clear the glass as the machine jerks underneath me.
I finally get into the cab and start chopping with the pointy end this time.
As it lurches and trembles, revving its engine like it’s screaming in pain, I hack at every control I can see, every lever, every wire, and I don’t stop until the combine gives a great, juddering shudder and a groan of defeat.
Then it stops and everything goes quiet.
“What in the name of Hades was that, Keres?” Chance yells from the wall where he’s still dangling. “I’ve always known you were going to try to kill me. You bloodthirsty little bitch—”
Chance disappears a heartbeat before everything else does, too, and I find myself falling again.
This time, when I land on my ass, it’s on hard-packed earth.
Not a field now but inside a large, round building that is perhaps twenty-five feet across in diameter.
And tall. Really tall. Several stories. There is a door on my right, and I see a hatch up above in the roof that is open to the outside, blue skies taunting me with their happiness.
“What is this? A silo?”
Another table appears tucked up against the far wall.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I grumble as I shove to my feet and make my way over to it.
This liquid is amber in color. It takes several gulps to chug it down, as it’s thicker than the other two, and sweet but flavored more strongly, like beer. I don’t get a chance to throw the cup on the ground because the table and cup disappear.
“Which horror of a human being am I supposed to save now?” I call to the goddess.
But instead of another person appearing, a bloodred crack of broken time bursts through the wall and swallows me whole.