Chapter 17

chapter seventeen We follow the Mallusk's path of destruction in silence. But it's not silent enough. Because every few seconds I hear beeping. And it's coming from Evie. Or, more specifically, from Evie's Game Boy. We trudge along the ridgeline, high above the massive canyon left in the Mallusk's wake, and I try to ignore the sounds. But I can't. She's playing Dark Arts Tower Defense and the music is the most annoying. I try to drown out the beeps with noise of my own. I start whistling. And I'm not even good at whistling. And if there was any chance that Evie was just accidentally annoying me, it becomes clear that she is definitely on-purpose annoying me because the louder I kinda-whistle, the louder she turns up the volume on her Game Boy. I think I'm losing my mind. "WILL YOU TURN THAT OFF!" I finally scream. "No," she says flatly, still mashing the buttons. "Walking is the worst, and I need something to distract me." "Then at least play it with the sound down!"

I can't believe it. I sound like a dad on a long car ride. That is what Evie has done to me. "The sound helps me," she says. I let out a grunt. "Helps you? You need help beating Dark Arts Tower Defense?" In response, she just smacks the console against her hand. "This stupid boss! He's impossible." "Give it to me." I stop walking and hold out my hand. "I've beaten that final boss more times than I can count!" "Hold on a sec," Evie says, looking up from the game. "For real," I say. "Just give it to me, and I'll take care of it." "Seriously," she says. "There's something up ahead...."

Do you smell that? It's the smell of evil. Yep, it's a gross smell, right? Evie nods. "The worst." "Finally. Something we can agree on." "Sometimes when Ghazt isn't looking, I spray Febreze," Evie says. I laugh. We both do. Then it's weird and we shut right up. The smell comes from within this train station or the scattered train car graveyard beyond. It was already a mass of wreckage—the path cut by the Mallusk just punctuated it. "Widow's Crossing Train Yard," I say. "Doesn't sound foreboding at all. Probably just—"

Scccccritch. Scccccritch. The scratching sound shuts me up. We sneak through the station, following the foul odor and strange noise. Coming around an overturned ticket machine, the smell of evil hits me so hard I gag. Neither of us are prepared for the mangled, monstrous mess lying on the train tracks. "It's one of those Mortar Monster things," I whisper. "From the rest stop." One wounded claw is scraping the ground, making a nails-on-chalkboard noise. It seems to be on its last legs. Which means it must have been dying for a while, 'cause it has a lot of legs. Up close, it's even clearer that the Mortar Monster and the Pilot-Thing are a single entity. Conjoined. What

happens to one happens to the other. They feel the same pain. And they're both feeling it bad now... Must have been caught beneath the Mallusk during the escape, I say softly. Dragged for miles before being spit out here. Mallusk roadkill, Evie says with a shrug. Sccc-Scccc-Sccriiiiitch. I watch the Pilot-Things taloned hand claw at the ground. It's trying to say something, but its voice is all gurgled and wet. MEECQ-$ZZK The Pilot-Thing wheezes and its head lifts. I follow its foggy, heavy-lidded eyes and realize it's checking out the Slicer. Sorry, buddy, I say, placing a protective hand around my Slicer. This ain't for you. The Pilot-Thing's cavernous mouth twists up into a strange, shifty smile. It speaks-and its voice is like something pulled from nightmares. It's the voice that beckons from beneath the bed after the lights go out.

KEEP BRAS CAMP. Can't places to be? YES, must catch up to the Massac. The Pilot-Thing continues hissing. "YESSSS. REACH THE M...SQ.... I HOPE YOU DO. WE HOPE YOU DO." "What's this thing playing at?" Evie asks. I'm not sure. But there is some part of me that must know; some part of me that won't leave without hearing what the creature has to say. "YOU THINK YOU ARE SAFE ABOARD THAT CREATURE, YESSSS?" the Pilot-Thing rasps in pain.