Scorpion Shards by Neal Shusterman

Author:Neal Shusterman
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

10. THE FALL OF BLACKBURN STREET

* * *

DILLON DREAMED HE WAS RIDING ON THE BACK OF A PANTHER—a great, dark beast bounding into a wild unknown. The power he felt in the dream made the rest of humanity seem small and unimportant, and as he rode he saw the weak, guilt-ridden boy he was before trampled beneath the beast’s pounding feet. Dillon awoke from the dream exhilarated, out of breath, and knowing that it was not entirely a dream. He wondered why he had resisted for so long.

His wrecking-hunger had evolved. Now it felt like a creature, burning with primal fury, yet acutely intelligent . . . and Dillon had learned that riding this beast was far better than letting it ride him.

He imagined Deanna there beside him, riding her own creature—a powerful pale horse—a terror-mare. Together he and Deanna would charge their beasts into the wind, and no one would stop them as they sped down paths of greater and greater destruction.

Where are you taking me? Dillon would silently ask it, and although it never answered, Dillon knew that it had a glorious purpose that he would soon understand.

Deanna, on the other hand, was no longer so entranced by her situation.

She had watched Dillon change from a teary-eyed boy, crushed by the weight of his own terrible actions, to a young man who was getting far too sure of himself.

Yet in spite of that, Deanna knew that he still needed her. Who else but Deanna could look deep into his eyes and find something inside that, even now, was still good and worthy of love? And if her capacity for love were greater than her capacity for fear, perhaps it would save her in spite of the destruction. Perhaps it would save them both.

Dillon gratefully accepted her love, and, in turn, she accepted his wisdom.

“Forget about the ‘Other’ ones,” he had told her. “They’ll only bring us trouble.” If Deanna didn’t accept this, she would have to face the alternative, and so Deanna pushed The Others out of her mind as they raced headlong into the great northwest.

“We’re the strong ones,” Dillon had said. “Those Others are nothing compared to us.” And it was true. She and Dillon were stronger than all The Others combined.

Then why did she feel so weak?

Dillon had said he was like her good luck charm, but she wasn’t exactly wearing him around her neck; it was more like she had climbed into his pocket and hidden there.

Was her soul so frail that all she could do was follow him, borrowing his will for her own? She had been a hostage of her fears, and Dillon had freed her . . . . Did that make her his hostage now? She didn’t know—but she did know that she would follow him to the ends of the earth . . . which was exactly where she suspected they were headed as they crossed from Wyoming into Idaho.

THE STREETS OF IDAHO Falls were gilded with a million orange leaves.

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