Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,40
Jet said, taking another step.
“I’ve already hypnotized you, Joan. Don’t you see? I’ve taken away the light.”
“Of course you have,” she said, and then she turned to her friends …
… but that was when the lights went out.
No! She reached for her optiframes to banish the Darkness, but it was gone. Oh Light, no!
yes yes little girl yes
She spun around, desperate to escape before the voices took over. But there was nowhere for her to go; the Shadow was all around her.
The Shadow was in her.
little Joan little Jet little lamb lost little lamb
She doubled over, screaming, clutching her head, pulling her hair. No, not like this!
like this you like this you like us little Joan don’t fight
Her screaming faded to a whimper, and she wrapped her arms over her head, bowing in her despair. Please, Light, not like this.
don’t fight don’t fight don’t
She didn’t want to give in, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight.
“Joan.”
The voice was cool, calm, the epitome of reason in the face of madness.
“Joan, I can make the voices go away.”
Light, please.
“Look at the light, Joan. Look at the Light and don’t fight me.”
don’t fight
“Look at the Light.”
Something bright, bright enough that she saw it through her squeezed eyelids. Desperate to believe, she opened her eyes.
The Light washed over her, and the Shadow cowered, retreated. The Light beckoned, easing her terror, soothing away her fear. Her body slowly relaxed.
“Joan. Look to your left.”
She did.
“Do you see it, Joan? Do you see the Shadow?”
She did. It quivered as the Light noticed it, but though it hissed and spat, the Shadow didn’t attack. It didn’t try to seduce her again, but neither did it flee. It waited patiently for her to lower her guard.
“Look to your right, Joan. Do you see the door? It’s reinforced tilithium. Nothing can get through it, Joan. Nothing can break it. Do you see it?”
She did.
“The door is open now. Do you see the tiny cell it hides?”
She did.
“There is nothing in the cell but wall and ceiling and floor. The door is the only way in. The door is the only way out. Do you see?”
She did.
“The Light is forcing the Shadow inside the cell.”
At that, the Shadow bucked and screamed. It fought against the pulsing light, it launched itself at the Light, at Jet; it flowed up and down and scrabbled for purchase. But the Light caught it and redirected it, pushed it toward the cell.
The Shadow gathered itself, forming the shape of a woman, the shape of Jet herself, and with a delirious screech it launched itself at her.
Jet rolled with the Shadow, screaming, fighting back with everything she had. She punched at it, shouting her rage and fear, bellowing as she lashed out with brutal kicks. She fought it—and because she wasn’t alone, this time, Jet was winning.
“Joan! The cell, Joan!”
With a defiant cry, she grabbed the Jet-Shadow and spun, throwing it toward the cell. The Light reached out and grabbed the Shadow’s ankle and dragged it into the tiny room. The Shadow scrabbled and clawed, squealing and shrieking, but it didn’t matter—the Light forced the Shadow into the prison cell. The door slammed shut with the finality of a coffin lid sliding home, sealing in the Light and the Shadow both.
Jet was swaying, now, shaking with fatigue, exhausted physically and mentally and emotionally. Tears of relief streamed down her face.
“The Shadow can’t hurt you anymore,” Doctor Hypnotic said. “By the way, I’m really sorry about this.”
He grabbed her shoulders and spun her to the left … and then a bolt of electricity slammed into Jet.
Too stunned to scream, her limbs flailed and jittered. She didn’t even register the pain.
She thought she heard Taser say, “Whoops.”
When the Darkness reached for Jet, for the first time since she was a teenager, she didn’t worry about the Shadow voices reaching for her. With a smile, she passed out cold.
CHAPTER 17
IRIDIUM
I tried for days to make Subject 1102 replicate the effect, but in the end I failed. An autopsy will probably tell me more.
—Matthew Icarus, diary entry dated October 30, 1982
A figure lay on the ground outside the building, black and black on the pitted asphalt. Iridium was off the bike before Boxer had come close to stopping, sprinting for the smaller body on the ground.
If I hadn’t stopped if I hadn’t waited if I’d stayed with her …
“If I’d been here …”
“You’d be out for the count too.”
Iridium snapped her head up from Jet, who was breathing, though not often