There weren’t many lights on in this spirit world.
We weren’t looking at the spirit world.
I slowed, pulling a U-turn to put the Eye behind me.
The bright flash behind him only got brighter. Headlights. Multiple sets.
I was looking over my shoulder, and my focus was partially on getting the bike moving away from him without toppling or driving straight into one of the larger potholes. I didn’t see exactly what happened next.
The collision, however, put the impact of one human body against Fell’s car to shame. It was easily two or three hundred feet away, but I could feel it like a punch in the gut, a noise and vibration that momentarily tore my thoughts from my brain.
The aftermath wasn’t much prettier. One car, virtually airborne, followed by chunks big enough to dash my brains in, flipped halfway-over in midair, then hit the road, roof-first.
No illusions about what might have happened to the person inside.
The other car squealed, fishtailing before running up and over a bike rack that was bolted to the sidewalk, half-turning to skid back onto the road.
Another flash, like a stroke of lightning, except this flash, too, was headlights. Not from behind the Eye, this time.
A squeal, and a car, coming the opposite direction, hit the car that had run over the bike rack.
I saw flickers, brief psychic echoes of pedestrians who had been hit.
The gap yawned larger, and I could see the people on the other side. I could hear the screams, shouts of alarm. See people running towards the three-car pileup.
Oblivious to the Eye, who walked down the length of the road.
Approaching the second crashed car.
It might have been the least damaged of all the cars. The bike rack had gutted it, torn into the underbelly. It would need work, but…
…But the Eye was moving toward it with purpose.
“Off, Tiff!” I shouted.
“What?”
“Get off! Now!”
Rather gracelessly, I pushed her to get her off faster, simultaneously turning myself around for the second time in ten seconds. Back toward the Eye.
“Evan, clear the way!”
He said something, but I didn’t hear it over the sound of the engine coming to life.
I saw him circle, and pointed. Used my arm to point, so there was no doubt.
The bike soared toward the crashed cars and the Eye.
My eyes roved over the scene, trying to see the very real woman who was in the driver’s seat, trying and failing to open the door.
As I got closer, I could see the pedestrians. Evan flew through them, darting left, then right, and pushed them to the side with the weight of a small boy, the speed of an unladen sparrow.
I rode onto the sidewalk, shifting to a one-handed grip, letting go of the clutch.
No way this would work.
No.
The Eye didn’t give me a chance for a sudden rescue. He touched the car before I could grab the driver and pull her out of the window.
The gutted underbelly had leaked gas, against all odds, and the Eye had ignited it.
The rolling eruption of flame knocked me over. I could hear the screams. The driver and many of the bystanders who’d tried to help were caught, and onlookers experienced pain of another sort. Horror.
Another small eruption, the car rocking to one side, partially rolling over.
I tried to get to my feet and failed. I was stronger than I had been, but that didn’t count for much.
No. It wasn’t pure coincidence, that second eruption.
The Eye was in the midst of the flame, wading through, using one hand to push at the flaming vehicle, rolling it out of the way.
He was coming for me.
6.06
My senses were consumed by images of fire, the sound of screaming, and a six-foot-something brute of a man that looked more at home walking through the flames and wreckage than he had outside of it. The rags that bound him together were dark, the rest of him burned like it was made to, skin sizzling and popping like meat in the frying pan, but not being consumed.
The big hulking threats in the movies didn’t move fast. When the main characters were up against the three-hundred pound chainsaw-wielding maniacs, they could at least scramble away and outrun the motherfuckers. The Eye didn’t move that slow. Longer legs meant longer strides, he was standing and I was on the ground, and I was a very tired human, while he was some kind of otherworldly abomination.
Evan swooped low, between the Eye’s legs. Without looking, the Eye reached back, grabbing blindly at Evan. Evan was in the process of ascending, avoiding the burning wreck, and managed to escape both the grasping hand and the flames.
It was a horrible risk for a negligible effect, nearly getting caught, which would toast Evan and me, and the bird passing by while the Eye was mid-step didn’t even make the thing stumble. The grab at Evan was more of a delay than anything.
It was a delay I could use. My progress was impeded by the silhouettes of the rescuers and fleeing bystanders. They were only partially there, and the further I got from the Eye, the easier it was to fight through them.
I was able to get to my motorcycle. Getting it up off the ground was another thing. It wasn’t a big bike, but I wasn’t strong.