A red mist clouded Ryan’s vision as he grew more angry. “You’re pissing in the wind, Doc,” he told the old man, making sure Elmore understood him, too. “I got a sec chief out there who says he’ll go away if I give this man to him. This man isn’t nothing to me.”
“And should this man Naylor not be as honest and forthright as he presents himself to be?” Doc asked.
“Then I lose one man that’s not one of us to be certain of that.” Ryan hardened his resolve. “Cheap enough buy-in on a shaky play.”
“Heartless bastard, aren’t you?” Elmore asked.
“It keeps me breathing.” Ryan motioned the man to the door with the blaster. “If you want, I can chill you quick. All he wants is a body. I’ll make sure you don’t suffer.”
“Rather take my chances with him,” Elmore said.
“Fair enough. Move along.”
Elmore started for the door. He paused before going through, looking at the woman, Mary. “What about you, lady? Ain’t you going to say something about this not being right?”
She turned her head into her husband.
“Surprising how self-survival puts things into perspective for most folks.” Elmore gripped the door and opened it. Before he could move outside, Krysty screamed, and the pained shriek filled the small building.
KRYSTY TRIED TO STOP the second scream, but she couldn’t. As with the first scream that ripped past her lips, the effort was beyond her control, like a muscle spasm. She doubled over, wrapping an arm around her stomach as pain shot through her. Mildred leaned in close, offering support and whispered words. Krysty wasn’t able to make any of them out at all.
Her last glimpse was of Elmore frozen in the middle of the door, muted sunlight pooling across his boots. Then Krysty went blind.
“Krysty!”
She heard Mildred that time and tried to answer. But the words stayed locked up tight inside her, not going any further than her mind.
I’m still here! Phlorin shouted, and it sounded as if she came from a far distance. Even in death, the Chosen are not truly helpless!
Though she knew she was still blind in the physical world, could feel her eyes open and hear herself telling Mildred she was blind, a vision formed in Krysty’s mind. She stood on a desolate mountaintop, wind battering her and howling like a mournful wolf. It wasn’t cold and it wasn’t hot; there was only the sensation of the wind.
Fog blew in from what she believed to be the east, covering over the sun just now borning from the bloody rim of the world. It was thick and grayish purple, the color of old bruises. Movement stirred within the depths of the fog. Incredibly Phlorin stepped into view less than ten feet from Krysty.
Where Krysty stood on the uneven terrain of the mountaintop, her boots rocking as the wind tore at her, the woman wasn’t affected at all by the wind. And she stood on a wisp of fog, her sandaled feet never touching the ground. She wore a long green gown with intricate embroidery on it.
Get away from me! Krysty responded, looking down only to see the sheer face of the mountain spill away just below her boots. She felt the woman inside her head, like the inside of a beehive. It was a sticky, gooey feeling, the way the honeycomb had felt when she sometimes helped Uncle Tyas McCann rob beehives around Harmony to make honey.
There is no escaping me, Phlorin promised. You have become my vessel, and you will do what I wish.
No!
You have no choice, just as your man gave me none. Succeed or die! And that is the choice I put before you, Krysty Wroth. You will do as I need you to, or I will chill you.
I don’t believe you.
Then I’ll make a believer of you!
Before Krysty could take another breath, her heart stopped. She struggled to fill her lungs again, but they didn’t react. She listened to the loud silence where the sound of rushing blood had once been, always taken for granted.
WHEN KRYSTY’S SCREAM reverberated through the tunnel, Dean instinctively went to ground. He dropped flat against the accumulated dog turds. He felt warmth along his chin and left cheek and knew that he was at ground zero for one of the areas the dead animals above had relieved itself before going toward the building. Thankfully his sense of smell seemed to have deserted him.