Light Shaper (27 page)

And now he was going to die.

When he heard Rigel coming back and another cry of “Steve!” he stumbled forward and managed to shout, “Here!”

Rigel stopped by his door, his dark hair a mess, his clothes rumpled, and Barrow’s first and incongruous thought was that Rigel looked incredibly handsome in the light of the flames.

“Steve!” Rigel shouted, sounding relieved and scared at the same time. “I’ll get you out!”

A few agonizing seconds passed while Rigel worked out whatever security mechanism was keeping the door locked. Nothing he did seemed to be working, and as he pulled on the outside handle to the door with his hands enclosed in those bionic braces, Barrow had the awful realization that Rigel would just not be strong enough to yank the door open if it was stuck.

Then he saw a flash of metal stuck through Rigel’s belt.

“The gun!” he yelled, thankful that his voice was back. “Shoot the door!”

Rigel met his eyes, nodded briskly, and took out the gun. Barrow saw that it was shaking in his hands and hoped the kid would not shoot himself by mistake.

“Stand back!” Rigel told him, coughing from the smoke.

Barrow did so. Rigel fired.

The entire surface of the glass door impacted, but it did not break. Rigel shot it twice more.

“Stop!” Barrow shouted. “Get out of the way!”

Barrow took a running start and threw himself at the door again, shoulder first. This time it gave way, collapsing in a single crumpled sheet at the impact and sending Barrow crashing straight through into the hallway. The impact hurt, but Barrow was so relieved to be outside that he barely felt it.

“Come on!” Rigel said urgently, pointing over his shoulder. Barrow looked back to see and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Fire. Fire and smoke. It was contained by one of the security barriers but clearly visible nevertheless. Again, Barrow felt the rush of terror. Again, he felt as if he could not move.

Then Rigel yanked him by the shirt, forcing him to move.

“What is wrong with you?” he yelled. “We got to go, now!”

They started running, coughing, Barrow following Rigel blindly. They took many wrong turns, but at this point the building was so empty that it didn’t matter. They did not run into anybody else, and they ended up exiting through the only way Rigel must have known, out the back security door he had used earlier in the morning.

They practically fell through the door and out into the warm desert night. There was a lot of noise, and as Rigel and Barrow made their way around the building toward the train station they saw a large crowd gathered in front of CradleCorp. Two newspaper helicopters were hovering around, deafening everybody when they came in too low. Searchlights combed the upper stories of the building, and fire crews were busy at work putting out what was obviously the massive outcome of some kind of explosion that had taken place in the lower levels. Barrow followed Rigel as they wove their way through the crowd, avoiding the police who were frantically trying to keep people from getting too close and hurting themselves. Hundreds of onlookers were shooting video of the tragedy, while others were shouting the names of loved ones, pushing everybody out of the way in their desperate search. Somebody with a loudspeaker was trying to reassure everyone, but he kept being shouted down every time he took a breath. The night was alight with the white-and-red glow of ambulances. The crowd stretched halfway to the train station.

Finally they were out of it. Barrow and Rigel were going the exact opposite way that the vast majority of the people were, and so they found space for both of them on the next departing Skytrain. Rigel had to pay for the two tickets because Barrow couldn’t find his wallet. They headed straight for the empty seats and collapsed on them, both reeking of smoke and drawing curious gazes from other passengers, although not as many as Barrow would have expected. Everybody was talking about the explosions, wondering whether anybody had died, and also wondering what on earth had caused it in the first place. Somebody had a live radio feed on his mobile and was playing it loudly, and as the train made its way back into the city, they could all hear what was going on.

“The earliest reports we have been getting regarding the ongoing tragedy at CradleCorp have confirmed that there was an explosion which originated in the eastern side of the building in either the first or second floors. The explosion was large enough to destabilize the structural foundations of the floors immediately above the zone of the blast, and it is feared that the entire wing will collapse in the near future. There have been no confirmed casualties, but interviews with CradleCorp personnel have revealed that the explosion took place in the Engineering sector of the company.”

There was a little gasp from one of the other passengers at that last bit. She hastily took out her mobile and dialed someone.

“We go now to our on-site correspondent, Alicia Jimenez, for an update on the latest status of the rescue efforts.”

Barrow stopped paying attention, blocking out the interview with a slightly hysterical CradleCorp employee that followed. His mind was racing. Rigel had obviously done something, managed to get out in some crazy way, or else they would both still be inside, probably dead. Barrow wanted to ask him what he had done, but they were surrounded by people, and he didn’t think it would be smart. He did catch Rigel’s eye two stations later, though, and saw that Rigel had been looking at him. They shared a faint smile.

“Thanks,” Barrow said. “For getting me out.” He didn’t elaborate, because he was not sure he could keep his voice steady. It was hitting him now. The explosion had been big. If Rigel hadn’t come, he would have been burned alive.

Just like in his nightmares.

“Hey, don’t mention it. You helped me earlier. Least I could do.”

Barrow nodded, unsure of what to say. They were out of there, and CradleCorp was a mess. If Tanner sent that Herrera woman and her assassins after them again, which he undoubtedly would once he discovered they had escaped, it would be best to already be hiding somewhere. Maybe even… leave the city.

Yeah. No choice.

Barrow would have to leave, start again somewhere. He just hoped his contacts in the airship docks would be enough to get him a job that wouldn’t kill him.

At Green Park Station, Rigel stood up.

“This is my stop,” he said. “Got to tell my flatmate I’m okay before she freaks out.”

“Right,” Barrow answered.

There was an awkward silence as people pushed past Rigel, trying to get out. Then people started coming in.

“Thanks again,” Rigel told him.

“You too,” Barrow said.

“Okay… bye,” Rigel finished.

Barrow nodded. Rigel turned and left.

As soon as the doors closed behind Rigel, Barrow felt a huge surge of relief. It was slightly tainted with regret, but he told himself firmly that now he was free of whatever mess he had been dragged into by Atlas, if indeed it had been the machine doing everything. Somehow, Barrow found it hard to believe. He didn’t know exactly what Tanner wanted from Rigel, but he figured it wasn’t his problem anymore. It was over.

He stayed on the train until it reached Roundabout Station half an hour later and got off. He didn’t even know what time it was. Somebody had stolen his watch, along with his wallet, probably while he was out cold. All he had was some spare change. He thought about stopping by a pharmacy to buy something for the burning in his face and the dull pain in his side, but he didn’t know exactly how bad he looked, and he did not want to draw attention to himself. Instead he went straight to his apartment, kicked the door open when he found he had also lost his keys, and headed right for the bathroom. After he had relieved himself, he took stock of his bruises in the mirror. There was dried blood on his chin and beard, one of his eyelids was swollen, and there was a nasty cut above his left eyebrow. He was also dirty, no doubt from all the dust and smoke, plus the fights. He took off his shirt carefully, turned, and looked at his side in the mirror. There was a boot-sized mark right where his ribs hurt, but careful exploration reassured him that it was just a bruise. He felt around for the lump on his head, but the swelling had died down already. All in all, he had gotten away relatively unscathed.

Barrow stripped, got into the shower, and stayed there until he felt drowsy. He changed into a clean T-shirt and boxers afterward, ate some dried fruit and a protein shake, and collapsed onto his bed. Tomorrow he would think about how he was going to get out of Aurora—staying wasn’t an option, not now that Tanner had seen him help Rigel, the man he wanted dead. But right then he just wanted to rest.

Maybe it was an aftereffect of the sedative they had given him at CradleCorp, but Barrow fell asleep immediately. He had confusing, half-formed dreams for what felt like a long time. Then suddenly he opened his eyes, startled awake. He had just heard the loud noise of his apartment door slamming shut.

Or… had he? He felt groggy. He looked at the door, part of it illuminated by a square of light coming in from the lamppost outside his window. It was closed. Everything else was quiet and dark. It was probably the dead of the night; he must have slept for hours. He felt he ought to check it out, but he was so tired…. He shut his eyes and fell asleep again.

The next time he opened his eyes, he didn’t even know what had made him wake up. He had been dreaming about the fire again, and it was a slight shock to wake to complete stillness. It was hot, as always, but Barrow shivered, and then a half-forgotten memory reshaped itself in his mind. Cold. Something cold had woken him up.

His head felt a bit clearer, although he was still tired. He let his eyes roam about the dark room, picking out the familiar outlines of his possessions. He would be leaving this room for good in the morning. Too bad. He had liked it, down to the ceiling fan that was always breaking down.

He looked in the direction of the door, though, and something was different there. It took him a little while to see that the light from the lamppost outside had gone out, and now the only light came from the moon, barely enough to make out the shape of things and distinguish them from their shadows.

What had he woken up for, again?

Barrow turned onto his side, found out he was too hot with a T-shirt on, and took it off. Refreshed, he closed his eyes and slept again.

Click click
.

Barrow woke up immediately, a crawling shiver snaking up his spine. He had heard a noise. He was sure he had barely fallen asleep this time, that almost no time had passed since—

The door. His eyes strayed to it again, and he sat up as slowly and noiselessly as he dared. He remembered the loud slamming noise from earlier now. Someone had shut the door of his room while he was sleeping, his mind muddled by sedatives and sleep and exhaustion.

If that someone had come in, then he was still inside.

He strained his eyes in the darkness, trying to see through the shadows. There was nobody in the room but him. He had positioned his bed where it was precisely because it offered him a full view of the entire apartment, with the exception of the bathroom when the door was closed. He had left it open, though, and so he could see into the shower under the irritatingly faint moonlight. There was nobody there. There was nobody hiding anywhere.

But then why did Barrow feel as if something were watching him?

He started to get sleepy again, very sleepy, and it was then that Barrow started to be afraid. He didn’t want to go to sleep, but he was sinking back down onto the pillow. His eyes were fluttering closed, and he couldn’t fight it. He caught the briefest hint of something moving in the darkness before he fell unconscious. It was inching closer to his bed.

Click click
.

Cold. Barrow’s eyes snapped open and saw….

Empty. A single eye that was an inky pool of blackness, mere centimeters from his sleeping form. A strange body attached to it that hopped closer on a single leg with obscene stealth. It was a shadow that seemed to detach itself from the darkness of the walls, and a terrible cold leeched out from it….

The thing in his bedroom fixed him with an icy look, and Barrow felt an overpowering wave of sleepiness wash over him.

No
, he tried to say. But he could not speak.

Another hop, and a flash of a cruel beak attached to the impossibly large eye. The vision of an unblinking black void under the moonlight.

He was falling asleep. The shadow moved—

A very loud ambulance drove by down on the street, its light flashing everywhere, sending red-and-white reflections off windows and into the room, slicing through the shadows.

A blur. An absence.

The siren’s noise startled Barrow fully awake, and he gasped aloud, looking around him. The room was empty. Carefully, he stood up and hit the light switch. Warm light flooded into the room, and Barrow had never been so relieved to see it before.

A dream, then. A very vivid nightmare of some kind, or maybe sleep paralysis. Had to be.

He walked over to his couch and sat down, regretting it the instant his sweaty back stuck to the imitation leather.

Then somebody slammed on the door of his apartment from outside, pounding it instead of knocking. Barrow nearly jumped out of his skin. The door had been closed but unlocked, and the person on the other side pushed it open and crashed into the room.

It was Rigel. He looked terrified.

Barrow could not even say he was surprised, but he felt as much of a relief at seeing him as he had felt when he had turned on the light.

“Sorry,” Rigel panted, looking up. “I didn’t know where else to—I looked you up online—my flatmate, she’s….”

His resolve broke, his lip trembled, and Rigel broke down in tears, right there on the floor of Barrow’s apartment.

Barrow didn’t think. He just slid down from the couch and sat on the floor next to him. He reached out to pat his shoulder, but Rigel misunderstood, and suddenly he was hugging Barrow, clinging to him as he gave free rein to his muffled sobs that became earnest crying. Barrow didn’t know what to do and didn’t want to push him away, so he just held him. Eventually Rigel calmed down. Barrow saw a hint of gray in the sky, visible from the window. It was almost morning after the longest day of his life.