The Savage Grace
Page 71

 Bree Despain

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“You guys!”
I shoved the stone in my pocket without saying a word, and we bounded back up the stairs.
Slade stood at the top, holding what looked a like burned-up soda can in his hand.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Homemade flash bomb. We found gas bombs, too. They’re all unconscious—everyone in the social hall.”
“Are they okay? Are you sure they’re not … ?”
“It’s just knockout gas. They’ll be fine but pretty nauseated in a couple of minutes. But Grace,” he held up the soda-can bomb. “This is one of Brent’s designs.”
“What? I don’t get what you mean. Brent’s been with us this whole time.”
“I mean, this wasn’t just any old Akh attack. This was the doing of the Shadow Kings. They were here. They knocked everybody out.”
I looked at Daniel. “But why would they just knock out all of Sirhan’s men … ?”
“Sirhan!” Daniel shouted. He was out the door and around the building in matter of seconds, with Slade and me on his heels. We went down the alley between the parish and the school and almost ran right into Gabriel.
“I came as fast as I could,” he said.
“No time to talk,” Daniel said. “Follow me.”
We ran toward the caretaker’s apartment. I could see the door standing open as we approached. Something large and furry lay in front of it. Daniel and Gabriel didn’t stop to see what it was and leaped over it in order to get through the door. But something caught my eye—the shredded fabric of a blue robe and the shaft of a broken spear, lying in a pool of blood under the furry thing. It was a wolf—one of Sirhan’s guards, I realized. A dead guard.
I went through the doorway and almost tripped over another dead wolf.
“No,” Gabriel cried. “No!”
My head snapped in the direction of the bed that took up most of the room. A withered, leathery, gray body lay on the bed. A silver spear protruded from his sunken chest. Blood darkened the fur all around the blade.
“They killed Sirhan?” Slade asked from behind me.
“No,” Daniel said, leaning over the body, his fingers pressed to Sirhan’s shriveled neck. “He still has a pulse. At least one of his hearts is still beating. He’s not dead yet.”
“What?” Gabriel felt his friend’s wrist. “Yes, he’s still with us. But not for long.”
“Quick!” I said. “We have to move him. We have to get him out of here.” I couldn’t imagine holding the Challenging Ceremony in the parish. The Shadow Kings had desecrated it enough with their attack. “He can’t die here!”
“Keys,” Slade said. “I left the keys to your car in the parish.”
“Take these!” Daniel picked up a set of keys on the small desk and threw them to Slade.
“You want me to drive the Aston Martin?” he asked, wide-eyed. I could tell he was trying not to sound too excited, considering the circumstances.
“Yes. Get us as far away from here as you can,” I said.
Daniel carefully but quickly broke the shaft of the spear so it only protruded about six inches out of Sirhan’s chest. Then he wrapped Sirhan in the bedspread. He and Gabriel hoisted up Sirhan’s beastlike body, spear and all, and we went running for the limo parked in the back lot of the parish. Slade unlocked the doors, and I held one open as Daniel and Gabriel carefully but quickly hefted Sirhan inside.
“Hold on, brother,” Gabriel said, holding Sirhan’s wrist.
I ran around the car and jumped into the front passenger seat.
“Go!” Daniel shouted, slamming the door once we were all inside the limo. “Drive as far out of town as you can!” He pointed in the direction of the main road.
Slade revved the engine and slammed on the gas.
We flew, faster than fast, out of the parking lot onto the road, and kept on careening toward Rose Crest’s town limits. I was glad it was so late; we wouldn’t encounter any other cars, as Slade wasn’t exactly worried about staying in our lane. Instead, he drove right down the middle, straddling the double yellow lines.
We’d just flown past the leaving rose crest, come back again soon sign when Gabriel shouted, “There’s no time left! We’re losing him.”
“You want me to stop?” Slade shouted.
“No!” I shouted. Sirhan couldn’t die here. Not out on the open road. We’d never be able to host a Challenging Ceremony here. We needed someplace secluded. Abandoned. Where no one in town would go.
I looked out the windshield at the upcoming intersection. “Hang a right!”
Slade turned the wheel, and we went sailing onto the old country road Daniel and I had driven down only the night before. “Seriously!” Slade shouted with glee. “Did you feel how the Aston handled that! I would kill to race this thing.”
I gave him a sideways glance, hoping he wasn’t being literal about the killing part.
“You’re racing against time, now!” Daniel shouted.
I could see the apex of the Frightmare Farms barn just beyond the trees. “We’re almost there. Take this left!”
Slade took the turn, clipping the back bumper on a post of a large for sale sign at the corner.
“That’s a bloody shame,” Slade said.
“We’re about to do worse. Keep going straight!”
“But there’s a fence.” He pointed at the closed entrance gate, guarded by a couple of scarecrows.
“Do it! Just keep going straight!” I ordered. “Hold on!” I shouted to the others.
Gabriel and Daniel clung tight to Sirhan. Slade cringed, slammed on the gas, and the front of the limo hit a metal gate. I braced against the impact as the gate burst open and one of the garish scarecrows went flying up in the air. It landed with a thunk on top of the car. It’s eyeless face looked down on us through the moon-roof before it went flying off the car.
“Hay!” Slade shouted, and we plowed through a pyramid of hay bales. Hay exploded all around us, but we kept on sailing until we came to the center of the barnyard and I shouted for Slade to stop.
The limo swerved, sending mud and hay flying as we spun to a stop.
“You’re insane!” Slade yelled.
“You’re brilliant,” Daniel said, pushing open his door.