Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(80)

I nod. I’m pretty sure we all had bad dreams last night.

Two hours later and we hit the turnoff at Rough Rock, leaving any road and signs of civilization behind. I turn briefly to look over my shoulder, but the town quickly disappears into the darkness.

“Not much farther,” I tell Kai. “The nest of Bad Men we took out was at the mine. It’s been abandoned for a while now, but there’s trade to be had in salvaging the old equipment. Plus, Bad Men use the coal seams in their ceremonies . . .” I realize I’m babbling. Nerves. And Kai’s not even listening to me. He’s looking out the windshield, eyes on the sky. I follow his gaze.

“Look at that sky,” he says. “Does that look normal to you?”

The sky should be bright by now, the impossible blue of an autumn morning. Instead it looks faintly green. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“It’s like my dream,” I whisper.

Kai whips around, eyes wide and worried.

“I had a dream. Back when we first met. There was some weird shit in it. Neizghání dressed as a witch. You, with wings of some kind. Anyway, in my dream the sky was like this over Black Mesa.”

“I believe in dreams,” Kai says hoarsely. “Do you think it meant something?”

I frown. “I hope not. That one didn’t end well. Hey, you sure you’re okay? You seem—”

The receiver crackles. “Rabbit, this is Rissa. You there? Over.”

Kai picks up the walkie-talkie. “This is Rabbit. What do you see? Over.”

“You still letting her call you Rabbit?” I ask.

“I don’t think I can stop her,” he mutters.

Rissa says, “We don’t see anything.”

“Could you be more specific? Over.”

“I mean there’s nothing here at the mine entrance, in the place Maggie told us to look. Over.”

“Are you sure?” I say, grabbing the walkie-talkie. I add a belated “over.”

“I’m sure. You said take the road into the mine, right? Well, we’re there, only there’s . . .”

The transmissions dissolve into static and a loud boom vibrates through the speaker, echoes outside around us. A flash of lightning at the top of the mine’s old slurry tower.

“That’s our cue,” I tell Kai, my voice high and jittery. I bring the truck to a stop, anxiety thrumming through my body now. I open the door and slide out. He moves over to take my spot behind the wheel.

“You positive you want to do this?” he asks.

“Just remember the plan, okay?”

He nods. “Maggie . . .”

I look up, already on edge, the adrenaline kicking in. My mind already on what comes next.

“Remember that we’re friends, okay?” he says. “And I . . . I’m on your side.”

I smile. “More than friends. Partners. Now go. Don’t keep the rest of them waiting.” I slam the door closed. Watch the truck rumble away into the darkness. Shake my hands out, nervous. Worried about this crazy plan. Worried that despite Kai’s reassurances, I may not make it through alive this time.

I wait until the truck’s trail of dust has disappeared, briefly palm my weapons. Shotgun on my back, shells at my waist. No B?ker, but I’ve got my throwing knives and the Glock and the new leather pouch on my belt, holding Ma’ii’s naayéé’ ats’os. The hoops are slightly warm against my hip, like living things. I roll my shoulders and take a few deep breaths.

I start slow, just jogging, getting my footing on the dry cracked earth. The land here is barren, nothing like the relative lushness of the mountains or my little valley. The sad sickness of Black Mesa settles in around me. In the growing light, under the green sky, it is suddenly so much like my dream that chills race across my arms, pulling goose bumps.

I hit my rhythm after a half mile. Speed up until I’m running at a steady clip. The slurry tower grows larger and larger, looming over the vomit-colored sky. I stay low, moving as quickly and as quietly as I can. I hit the first outbuilding and start climbing up the narrow metal ladder that runs the length of the tower. The first few stories go quickly, but by the time I’m halfway up, the metal is cold under my hands and it rattles and shakes like it wants to separate from the building and send me tumbling to the ground. Too loud, I tell myself, even though I know there’s no way he didn’t see my approach. I pause to warm my hands, scan the ground below me. I can see the motorbikes sprinting across the mesa, but still no monsters. I touch my hands to the hoops again and remind myself of Kai’s plan.

“You can do this, Maggie,” I tell myself. Because once I’m on the roof, I’ll be afforded a 360-degree view of the entire landscape. It’s the perfect lookout, and that lightning strike tells me that Neizghání agrees with me.

Only when I pull myself up to the roof, it’s not Neizghání who is waiting for me.

“Yá’át’ééh, Magdalena,” Coyote says. “How delightful. Have you come to watch the carnage?”





Chapter 35


“Ma’ii.”

“That is my name.”

“And why am I not surprised you’re here,” I say, stalking forward. He’s wearing another Western suit, but this one is done in shades of blacks and grays, a froth of creamy ruffles at his neck, a single blood red rose in his lapel. A black cowboy hat sits atop his head.