The Hearts We Sold(69)

She didn’t hear it exactly. It was more like the thrum of a bass; she felt the sensation go through her bones: a hum, a snap.

Arms closed around Dee. She made a noise, high in her throat. James. He held her, staggered backward, and she was suddenly so grateful to him. Absurdly, she felt safer in his arms but she shouldn’t, because whatever that thing was, it meant none of them were safe.

She watched as the thing tore itself free—

It was not human. It was not animal, either. She could never have given it a name; its nature was unearthly, indescribably wrong.

It was shaped like something from beneath the ocean—long limbed, boneless, and it did not seem to have eyes. There was a clacking sound as it raised its… head? She saw again those illustrations in the Lovecraft books at the library, drawings of creatures rising from the depths, of monsters long forgotten from human memory.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dee saw Cora try to run. She skipped back two steps, eyes never leaving the creature, but her heel snagged on a piece of debris. She stumbled, a panicked whine caught in her throat, and she fell to one side. She looked up, terrified, likely thinking she had just doomed herself.

James held very still, his arms caged around Dee. He was tense, not breathing, and Dee felt much the same.

Riley stood in place, arms loose at her sides. She was gazing at the creature, squinting at it as if she needed a new glasses prescription.

We’re going to die, thought Dee. The words came to her, almost calm in the midst of her terror. We are going to die.

And then the creature moved.

It darted for the vault. Its long limbs reached for the metal door, tearing it from its hinges and vanishing inside. The shriek of metal was deafening, and Dee found herself scrambling out of James’s grasp.

Run. She needed to run, to escape. Every inch of her was screaming to get out of that bank, to get outdoors. That’s what chased off monsters, right? Sunshine and people—if they could just get outside, they might be able to return to the real world and leave this nightmare behind.

And then she heard the crack of shattered glass.

“The hearts,” gasped Cora. “It’s after the hearts!”

James was paler than she had ever seen—his lips bloodless, his fingers trembling. The look he threw at Dee was full of terror. Then he ran into the vault, vanishing through the broken doors.

Dee’s body seemed to have frozen, her joints locked and eyes trained on the vault’s broken door.

And then she heard James cry out and a bolt of fury ran through her. Adrenaline sang through her blood and she was on fire with it, moving—running—toward the vault herself. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find inside. Perhaps the lair of some fairy-tale creature, all silk rugs and castle interior, or maybe some sort of altar for sacrifices.

But what she saw was… well. It was a bank vault. Racks of wire shelves ran along the walls and upon them were rows and rows of money. She saw dollars and euros and currencies she didn’t recognize.

Resting upon the floor were crates of C-4. Burlap sacks full of river rocks were piled atop the crates. And beside those were a couple of laptops, a stack of umbrellas, and on the last shelf, the one farthest from the vault doors, were vases.

Elegant vases, the kind used by luxury florists, meant to hold roses and baby’s breath and carnations. But tucked inside the swell of the vases, brilliant red and floating in some clear liquid… were hearts.

Dozens of them.

The monster was pulling them from the shelf, like a toddler smashing firecrackers upon the ground. James had picked up a broken piece of shelf and was beating the creature with it, a snarl of fury tearing through his teeth.

The creature shrugged off the blows with ease. Then it lashed out with one of its legs and caught James in the stomach, slamming him into a rack with a sickening crack.

For one long second, the world went still. Dee drew in the scene—the creature, the hearts, James on the floor.

Dee sprinted for the burlap sacks. She hefted one into both hands, rushed at the creature. Then she spun around once, twice, and brought the heavy bag of rocks down upon the creature’s head with all her strength.

Or at least, what she thought might be its head.

The creature recoiled, chittering like some kind of insect. It staggered to one side, and Dee hit it again and again. Her senses were sharp with terror; she could feel the roughness of the burlap beneath her fingers, the sweat rolling down her back.

The creature struck out at her, swift as thought. Dee tried to dodge, but one of the legs struck her, caught her in the side of the knee. Her legs fell out from under her and the granite slammed into her back, driving the breath from her lungs.

Then it was on top of her—all legs and mouth and teeth and it was trying to tear her open, claws raking at her face, and it was all she could do to scream, to try to use her arms to cover her face.

“Dee!”

Something crashed into the creature and Dee felt the impact through her own body. The monster rolled off of her, graceful as it regained its footing.

Dee felt the sting of where its claws had drawn blood, and she tried to sit up, looking wildly around for the creature. James had picked up where she’d left off, using the bag of river rocks to bludgeon the creature.

Dee glanced around wildly, trying to find another weapon. She forced herself to try to think, to be the person who survived. Those people were smart, were canny, were—