The page nodded, and the window closed. Pressing the paper back into the latch, I slowly lowered the lid again. The trunk was plunged into absolute darkness.
I heard more voices outside. The sounds were muffled and strange, but I thought I made out the word "dogs." My heart pounded in my ear, and I risked a short, thin breath.
The paper crinkled as someone leaned against the trunk. I held my breath, hoping the lock wouldn't punch through. Then, a heavy clank shook the car. As the back end lifted up, I banged against the sides of the small space. When I felt the wheels moving, I started to relax. They were towing the police car; I'd be in the impound lot in no time.
The familiar window began to open in the corner of my vision.
Took you long enough. I smiled expectantly at the screen.
Opened all the way, the window was blank. The empty screen glowed a deep blue.
Page?
Like black ink injected into a pool of clear water, the edges of the screen started to swirl and dissolve into the darkness that surrounded me.
FEAR. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. The trunk was too small, too tight. The page's window had gone completely dim, blending with the blackness of the space. Darkness surrounded me; I was trapped. Blind, I could feel the airlessness of the confined area bearing down on me. I took shallow breaths, and, despite the stuffy warmth of the trunk, my muscles shuddered involuntarily. Sweat beaded on my forehead and tickled under my armpits.
A ghost of a form slithered through the window. I leapt back from the vision, banging my head on the backseat. The sudden dull pain brought me to the present, and I realized what was happening. Shutting my eyes, I concentrated on breathing slowly and steadily. "You can't scare me, Phanuel," I whispered hoarsely. "I know this is just one of your LINK parlor tricks."
FEAR. Like a physical blow, the emotion hit me. I curled into a tight fetal ball. A whimper escaped, unbidden, from between clenched teeth, and I started rocking back and forth. Involuntarily, I let go of the latch, the paper slipped out, and the trunk began to open.
I tried to reach for the lid, but fear immobilized me, and spiders scuttled along my nerve endings. I hugged myself tightly as another wave of the shakes racked my body. Part of my brain knew that the LINK-angel was not real, that it was just a sophisticated program searching out my fear center, but that didn't make it any easier to resist. Overcome by a desire to run, my feet kicked out blindly.
A sharp turn shook the frame, and the trunk bounced open wider. Light streamed inward, and dispersed the darkness, waking me. I clamped down hard on my teeth; the pain distracted me from the emotion that gripped me in its icy clutches. I had to gain control before the tow-truck driver noticed that the lid of the trunk had sprung open.
But what could I do? I couldn't run, and Phanuel was too strong for me simply to shut him out. I had to face him. I bit my cheek to give me sharper focus. Then, squeezing my eyes shut, I expanded the page's window until it filled the space behind my eyelids. With all the courage I could muster, I called out into the darkness. Where are you, Phanuel? I'm not afraid of you.
Inside the window, smoke slithered at my feet like snakes. The tendrils grew up from the floor, and wisps of mist crawled along an invisible form. They twined upward until they reached a height of seven feet or more. Growing dense, the skeletal lattice of holes filled, and I saw the murky outline of a winged beast.
The sound of dry autumn leaves shaking in a November wind whispered, Be afraid.
The LINK-angel had completely materialized. Dark robes waved, as if in a soft breeze. Crow black wings extended fully behind him. In his bony hand, he held a scythe, the symbol of his office. A rotting death stench blended with the sickly-sweet smell of funeral incense.
The tingle of fear fluttered in my stomach, but I bit the inside of my cheek until I drew blood. Lights blinked behind Phanuel in the haze, and I knew they represented the open gateway to the LINK. Apparently, the page had left the LINK access open, and that gave me an idea. With deliberate patience, I circled Phanuel cautiously.
You're just a ghost in the machine ... a machine I am master of, I said, moving closer to the blinking lights of the open LINK port. You can't frighten me, construct.
Phanuel raised his cloaked head sharply at my words. His bone white forehead glowed in stark contrast to the murky twilight that surrounded us. Empty eye sockets glared at me.
I felt myself hesitating, wanting to run. Though the metallic taste of blood was already in my mouth, I bit down harder, superseding the fear with pain.
The twinkling lights intensified. The open LINK port was just behind my back. Phanuel stood inside the uniform's space, and I between him and the freedom of the LINK. I stopped my slow circling – ready for the kill.
Help. A desperate squeak came from inside the form of Phanuel. Something protruded from the LINK-angel's stomach. No bigger than my fist, the shape pounded at the material of the robe, like something trying to get out. Originally, I'd thought Phanuel's abdomen squirmed with maggots, but looking at him now I wasn't so sure. A tiny white paw emerged from the twisting folds of the robe. For all the world it looked like a ... Mouse.
Page?
Deidre? Help me get out of this thing.
I will. But be ready, I said, quickly amending my plans. I started moving again, regretfully leaving behind the open LINK portal. Let the page go, Phanuel.
Unbelievers must cower in fear, the angel hissed, flapping his wings to accent his point. A cold wind pushed at my avatar, and my feet felt heavy, as though I were walking through clay. Phanuel's eyes followed me, pulling into their grave-dark depths. Like the kiss of death, a whisper of wet breeze caressed my ear. I could feel myself slowing, succumbing to Phanuel's spell. I bit my lip again, but it didn't seem to help.
Dee ... The page's voice was insistent, hopeful. A bony claw pushed at the mouse image, shoving it deeper into the angel's bowels.
I had to make my move now, or the page would be lost in the LINK-angel's code. The LINK portal glittered behind Phanuel's dark wings. I took a ragged breath to steady myself. Back in real time, I jerked my head backwards until I collided painfully with the tire's rim. The self-inflicted blow brought sharp stars behind my eyes, nearly overwhelming the LINK-landscape.
The intense pain vanquished the debilitating fear, and I sent my avatar rushing toward Phanuel. My vision was riveted to his skeletal face. The angel's slack jaw widened in a howling cry.
As my avatar passed through the LINK-angel's construct, I grabbed for the page's code. I felt the mouse's tail in my grip. Coming out the other side of the LINK-angel, Phanuel dissolved around me, dripping from my avatar like ink. The black liquid of Phanuel's image pooled around my feel and began to re-form. I tossed the squirming page out the doorway to the LINK. Quickly, I closed the door, cutting off the uniform to the outside.
Behind me, I could feel the torrential wind of Phanuel re-forming himself. In real time, I opened my eyes to bright light streaming into the trunk. With cramped fingers, I pulled the LINK connection from my forehead.
"Going to hardboot you into the great beyond, you creepy son of a bitch," I told the LINK-angel trapped in the armored suit.
Pulling open the jacket's magnetic connectors, I cut the power to all of the uniform's functions. With a wicked smirk, I said, "Ha!"
Grabbing for the bobbing trunk, I held the latch slightly open, as the paper I'd used as a wedge was gone. After counting slowly to ten, I reconnected the jacket and waited as the uniform rebooted itself. I placed the LINK filament on my receiver and tentatively opened the uniform's window. The screen was blank: no trace of Phanuel. Now if I could retrieve Mouse's page ... Opening an outside channel to the LINK, I waited. The lights pulsed steadily beyond the door, and I strained to see the page's avatar among the swirling colors.