Dead End (Chronicles of Deadworld Book 4) by Debbie Cassidy

Author:Debbie Cassidy [Cassidy, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Hunter

How long? How long have I been here? Time has no meaning here, but there is chaos. I can sense it. I can feel it. Echo? Where are you? Why can’t I get to you? Something happened. Something that fills my gut with ice and makes my heart stop. But I can’t recall. Why can’t I recall?

This is the gray, and yet, it isn’t. My body is here and yet it isn’t. I must get out. I must find my way back to Echo. I need to save her. I try to exert my will on my surroundings, pushing at the fabric of this place to reconnect with my limbs, with my form. There is resistance, which isn’t natural. Something is blocking me.

My pulse kicks up even though I have no pulse. Oh, God. What is this? Who is this?

Relax.

That voice again. That metallic, grating fucking voice. “Who are you?”

That’s an interesting question and one I’ve been trying to find an answer to for the longest time, and you, my friend, have given me hope. You’ve given me direction.

What? “What are you talking about?”

I suppose it won’t hurt to give you a peek.

The gray parts and I am floating above the heart, detached and untethered. There are workers monitoring the machine and figures in the tower. The whump and whir of cogs tells me everything is okay. My mind begins to relax, and then a dark shadow darts across the floor.

Me. It’s me. What the … “How?”

I don’t understand it either, but it works. We work, Hunter. That is your name … My name now. I heard you so many times, felt your presence, but each time I reached out to you, you were gone like quicksilver from my grasp. I knew you’d return. You always return, drawn to the gray place just as I am. And now we are one. Now, I have the missing piece. I have a temporary body, and soon, I will have all the souls I need to survive, soon I will be whole.

What does he mean? And then I feel his hold on me like claws digging into my mind. He is me, and I am less than I’d been before, while below, he is visible—a shadow, a shade once more as he takes down the workers, as he takes down the heart, and my scream … My scream echoes uselessly into the gray.

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