JUNE 30, 2018, TIME UNKNOWN
Abby and Liam crouch behind a stand of rocks. Abby breathes heavily, but has her forearm pressed against her mouth, her sleeve muffling the sound of her breathing. Her face is white as paper, drained of blood. Liam fumbles with the phone, then extends it out around the side of the rock. The crowd of echoes stands in front of the cave. Moriarty circles high overhead, calling. Hardcastle’s echo lies facedown near the church entrance, motionless.
ABBY: One of those guns would be nice about now. We have to get in there.
LIAM: I know. How are you?
ABBY: Think I just broke a few ribs, no biggie.
LIAM: Can you move?
ABBY: Not fast. I’ll distract them. You get past. Help Sophia.
LIAM: I’m not going to leave you.
ABBY: You gotta pick one of us, Liam, and we both want it to be Sophia.
LIAM: Goddammit. If you—
But Abby surges to her feet with a yell of pain and charges around the rock, toward the echoes. They charge toward her. She screams at them, a wounded battle cry—and the scream is redoubled.
Joy Novak is there, is coming, mangled wings crusted with salt growing from her back. Shadows flicker behind her, almost like wings themselves. Her irises and pupils are doubled, filling the whole of her eyes so almost no white shows.
She looks at Liam and Abby.
NOVAK: Find her.
She spreads her full wings, black as a raven’s, salt falling from them like snow.
Abby and Liam run for the church.