MARCUS TURNED FROM the horror of the Poppy figure to end up face-to-face with his own, staring in at him from the other side of the brass bars. He steadied his feet, trying to find the lowest point of balance. Adrenaline spiked through him. He was going to have to fight.

The elevator was surrounded now, the figures pressed tight against the cage. The thing inside the Poppy figure raised its hand from the broken sleeve with a stifled groan and grabbed one of the bars.

The other figures began to groan too, twisting their limbs to crack out of the plaster, turning necks, bending elbows. Chunks of papier-mâché crumbled and fell to the floor.

The puppeteers were revealed. The Specials.

It was as Poppy had guessed. Matilda had come for Poppy, Randolph for Marcus, Irving for Dylan, and Aloysius and his black gash of a mouth had come for Dash. The cat, the dog, the bear, and the rabbit. Their eyes were empty pits.

For a few seconds, the masked orphans, the Specials, watched the group in stillness and silence. Dust coated their clothes and skin, clouds of it settling onto the black floor beneath them. Then, all at once, they attacked.

The bars of the cage clanged as the Specials threw themselves at them, screaming and shrieking. They yanked at the metal, banging their heads, whipping their arms and legs in a frenzy of movement.

Azumi, Poppy, Marcus, Dash, and Dylan clung to one another, some of them whimpering, some too stunned to make a sound. The metal around them began to squeal and cry as the brass bars bent under the pressure of the attack, making space for the Specials to reach farther inside. Clawlike fingers swiped at the group. Poppy screamed as Matilda got close enough to pull out a hank of her hair.

“They’re going to tear us to pieces!” shouted Azumi. The others cringed in fear.

“That’s not going to happen!” Poppy yelled. “We have to fight them! NOW!” And the kids inside the elevator broke apart.

Poppy and the twins flung themselves at their orphans, while Marcus spun away from the bars as the dog boy caught his jacket, and Azumi slipped quietly toward the elevator door.

“You came,” said Matilda’s muffled voice as she swiped at Poppy’s face. “You actually came.”

With the flat of her palm, Poppy smacked Matilda away from the wall of the cage. “I don’t know you!” she shouted. Matilda laughed and swiped for Poppy again.

Aloysius and Irving tore at the twins’ T-shirts, twisting the hems in their clenched fists.

Dash shoved himself into Aloysius’s arm, pinning it against a bar. Irving released Dylan and grabbed for Dash, but Dash ducked away.

Out of reach of the orphans, Dash noticed Dylan’s whole body stiffening. He’s going to have another attack!

“DYLAN!” he yelled. He released Aloysius and jumped back, yanking his brother into the center of the cage.

Dylan snapped out of it. “What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

Aloysius lunged, his hand coming perilously close to Dylan’s face. Dash kicked out at him and then at Irving, who hissed and roared like the bear whose head he was wearing.

Marcus was struggling to rip his jacket away from Randolph’s clutching fingers when he saw Azumi at the cage door, pulling frantically at the latch. “Azumi!” he shouted, yanking himself fiercely away from the dog boy. He flew across the cage, knocking her away. “What are you doing?!” he said. “You could let them in!”

Azumi blinked, as if coming out of a trance. She nodded. “We need to run.”

“Run where?” he asked. “They’re too fast. They’ll catch us.”

A noise above startled them. Randolph had leapt up above them, climbing up the bars of the elevator cage to the top. Marcus cowered in the center of the cage, covering his head and ducking to avoid Randolph’s reach. Azumi jumped up and swiped at the boy, smacking his hand away. Randolph yowled, and Azumi shrieked, “Leave us alone, you nasty thing!”

Grabbing Poppy’s bag, Matilda released a muted chuckle. She pulled herself violently backward, slamming Poppy’s body into the cage. Poppy grunted and then straightened her shoulders to keep from tumbling out into the shadows. Clasping the bars, she struggled to stay upright.

All around her, the others were shouting, and Poppy wished she could help them. Everything was happening so fast. If it lasted much longer, the orphans would be inside the cage and Azumi’s prediction would come true—the Specials would tear the group apart, as easily as Poppy had torn the arm off the papier-mâché doll. There’s got to be a way to escape this, she thought, her brain spinning. If we all huddle in the center of the cage … If we take them one at a time …

But then Matilda got Poppy’s hair in her hands again and jerked as hard as she could. Poppy screamed, feeling pinpricks of pain as follicles were torn from her scalp. Without thinking, Poppy reached through the bars and grabbed hold of the cat mask. She whipped herself backward, the mask still in her hands.

Matilda yelped and stumbled, holding her hands in front of her face. Poppy flung the mask to the floor of the elevator, steadying herself for the next round. But to Poppy’s surprise, Matilda lowered her hands, revealing a shocked and horrified expression. Her icy eyes were frightened, her pale skin covered in patchy blotches of plaster.

The battle was still raging around them, but a stillness descended upon the two girls, something that Poppy was certain only they could feel. They stared into each other’s eyes. Matilda’s were blue and glistening. Seeing past the mask for the first time, Poppy felt a shock. There was a real girl inside, not just a monster. All of these orphans were real kids. Dead kids, probably, but real kids nonetheless. Poppy sensed a kind of desperation emanating from the girl, as if she expected that this respite would not last long.

It was then that Poppy realized the fighting had stopped. Turning, she noticed both groups were staring at her—the orphans and her friends.

The other three Specials, the ones still wearing masks, stepped away from the cage and toward Matilda.

“No!” said Matilda. The desperation on her face made Poppy sick. “Leave me alone. Leave me alone!” The three leapt upon Matilda, dragging her to the ground as she flailed and screamed, then huddled over her in a mass. It looks like wolves feeding, thought Poppy. She wanted to squeeze through the bars and help the poor girl, but she knew she couldn’t take the time.

“Let’s go!” said Poppy. She pushed through the group toward the elevator door. Unhooking the latch, she dragged the heavy accordion springs back slowly, slightly, opening a small gap. One by one, they all slipped out into the mysterious darkness that surrounded the cage.

They ran blindly for a while until Marcus stopped them. “Hold on. Where are we?”

“Yeah,” said Azumi. “Poppy, which way should we go?”

Looking over her shoulder, Poppy could see the Specials rising from their spot on the floor. From their center, Matilda pushed her way out. She was wearing the cat mask once again. Poppy blinked. The mask that Poppy had torn from her face was still lying on the rug inside the elevator car. Where had this new mask come from?

A disturbing idea slithered into Poppy’s skull: The mask had grown back.

Matilda darted forward. The others followed, backlit now by the elevator’s lamp, making them into featureless hunters.

“It doesn’t matter which way,” said Poppy, grabbing Azumi by the hand. “Just run!”