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Maisie
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The past couple of days had gotten Maisie and Neven nowhere. If only Maisie had some sort of psychic ability to locate Perrie, but she didn’t even know if they were heading in the right direction.
She and Neven had stayed to the trees, away from the main streets. From the look of things, it seemed as though all the immortals had already left to set sail on their own adventure to their continuation of ruination.
The first night after she and Neven had left the barbershop, they’d made themselves a little camp in the forest nearby. By camp, I mean one of us would fall asleep in the grass while the other kept watch for anything strange. While Neven had been dozing off, Maisie left their hideout and decided to poke around near the edge of the forest, in hopes she would find something.
The sound of loose rocks scraping gravel had come from straight ahead, and Maisie prepared herself to go in for the attack and save her cousin from Vale. Maisie’s shoulders had slumped as soon as she caught sight of the scraggly mermaid. Her dark skin, cerulean hair and matching tail, all seemed to glow beneath the silvery moon. The creature had slowly dragged her body across the gravel, her tail half ripped from her abdomen. Something oozed from the wound, leaving a liquid trail in its wake. Maisie hadn’t been sure whether to be impressed for how many weeks the mermaid had towed herself across the land, or worried she might spot their camp. She leaned more toward being impressed.
After the mermaid crawled on by, Maisie had made it a point to stay by the fire.
Day two had been anything but action-packed. No immortals were anywhere to be found, only an endless supply of their finished business—glass statues. The town was so deserted, even more broken than the last, that she’d expected to see a troop of tumbleweeds pass her, but that most likely came from another movie.
Now, at the end of the day, Maisie couldn’t focus on anything else except for how much she missed Perrie, her family, and the eye patches crafted by her own hand.
“Neven?” she asked, leaning against a tall tree, its pinecones scattered around her.
“Yeah?”
“Do you miss Perrie?” A look of confusion spread across his face, so she needed to break it down further—as if it wasn’t obvious enough, though. “I mean, do you miss her, like are you still in love with her?”
Neven frowned for an entire sixty seconds. Maisie knew because she counted.
Finally, he shook his head. “No. I think it’s more like I miss her friendship. Besides David, I was always around the two of you, and then I wasn’t. I did love her, and a part of me always will, but I was wrong about a lot of things.”
Maisie let his words sink in. She wasn’t sure if she believed him. Just a couple days before he’d vanished, Neven was all about getting Perrie back. He hadn’t lurked around corners or anything to talk to her, but he’d still tried every now and then.
“What?” He shot her a hard stare. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
Maisie bit her thumbnail and didn’t say anything.
“Believe what you want.”
“I don’t know, Neven. You seemed pretty persistent about getting her back before you disappeared.”
He sighed. “I know, but after I left her house that day, something hit me, and I knew she looked at August differently than she ever did at me.”
“Okay, but just because you thought she felt something more toward August, it doesn’t counter your feelings or make them vanish.”
“Look, I can’t explain it, but I cared more about our friendship than anything else and that’s why it was so important to get her back. Yes, I told Perrie I loved her when I left her house, because I do. It’s just not in that way anymore. Does that make sense?”
It did. His words did make sense, but she still wasn’t sure.
As Neven stared out at the fallen and cracked telephone poles near the street, something in his eyes grew distant, and an old feeling stirred within her as she watched him.
“Speak, don’t forever hold your peace,” Maisie said.
He whipped his head to hers. “Seriously?”
“What’s wrong now?” Maisie scooched closer so her arm was pressed to his. He needed someone in that moment, and she wanted to be there for him.
“I thought maybe I could help be a hero after what happened to my mom, but the past few days proves I’m just a monster who can do nothing.”
“You’re not a monster.” Maisie patted his back. “You’re going to be a hero with me. Frankenstein’s Monster was never the villain of the story.”
Neven slung his arm around her shoulders and held her close. “Easy to say, Snow White was the ultimate innocent.”
“Ah, my dear friend, but I’ve actually turned people to glass, while you were fine and dandy after exiting Vale’s funhouse.” Neven was luckier than all of them, and she was glad for it.
“Under all that upbeat attitude you always have, you’re still positive and I sort of admire it, even though it’s a very oddball reaction to this new existence.”
“Why, thank you. I couldn’t have said it more perfectly myself.”
He didn’t look as miserable for the time being, and Maisie didn’t want to rehash and think about his feelings for Perrie. So while the sun set, Maisie stayed pressed against Neven, his comforting minty scent enveloping her, as they studied the cracked streets, the stalled cars, and the smoke curling into the air farther away where buildings had been burned to the ground.
Once Vale was gone, Maisie, Neven, and Perrie would help to return this world to its former glory. That was a promise.
As the sun’s rays crept out for morning to bring about the day, Maisie’s eye flicked open. A feeling of adrenaline pulsed within her. She was fresh and pumped to continue their mission in the next town.
Maisie propped herself up against the tree trunk and shook her legs out to get them ready to roam about. Neven yawned as he stood and stretched his scarred arms toward the sky. The insides of her stomach performed a little dance as she studied the sliver of skin where his shirt was lifted. A trail of dark hair rested below his belly button, leading to... She hurried and looked away. That old feeling had been there, a link to the past, and a part of her kind of liked it.
“Ready to go?” Maisie pushed herself up from the cool grass and brushed off the dried leaves and specks of dirt clinging to the skirt of her dress. Neven plucked a tiny leaf stuck to her back, and his touch sent a thrill through Maisie. She maneuvered away from him as she pretended to adjust her patch.
He chuckled. “More walking, right?”
She peered up at his face, and the light hit his jaw just right. He had an intriguing jaw. Maisie shook her head, needing to not think about his features. Any of them. Regardless of how pleasant they may be to look at.
“So, no walking today? We’re just going to stand here?” He pointed to the ground.
“No.” Somehow, Maisie tripped over that one-syllable word. “I mean, yes, we’re going to walk.” She pivoted on her heel and headed to the street, becoming her own compass since she lacked one.
Neven jogged up beside her. “You’re acting weird, Mais.”
She laughed, feeling back to normal, focused.
“Well, weirder than usual.” He cracked a half smile.
“I adapt to my environment.”
Debris and broken branches littered the road and leaves crunched beneath their feet. They hadn’t talked to another living soul since Ben. Maisie wondered how far he’d gotten after leaving them in the dust. She hoped he’d made it to somewhere safe. What about Josselyn? Had she managed to snap out of it, or was she still out there creating headless glass statues? Maisie may not have been able to save her parents or Uncle James, but she was determined to save Perrie. Unknowingly, Maisie shook her fist in the air.
“You all right?” Neven asked, latching onto her arm. His hand was warm, comforting.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Ben. Josselyn.” She paused, taking in a breath. “My family.”
He nodded, understanding. Since the world turned to glass, Maisie doubted he’d stopped thinking about his mom once.
“Mais, listen—” Neven didn’t finish his thought. A loud rustling in the trees stirred, directly above them.
They halted and exchanged a glance. Maisie thought for a second that it could be animal life, maybe squirrels or a raccoon, but a decaying odor permeated the air, and she knew she was wrong. Something twisted in the branches, shuffling through the leaves. Maisie squinted her eye to get a better view.
Without hesitation, the thing dove from the tree, and Maisie pulled Neven out of the way just in time.
“What the hell is that?” Neven’s words echoed above her head.
They slowly backed away as the questionable thing rose from the ground. Human eyes stared back at them, unblinking, from a mask of rotted flesh. The greenish skin, which was far too large and sagging in places, revealed a hidden wooden body beneath its surface. The putrid smell of decay became stronger, drifting straight from the creation. If it weren’t for the long wooden nose and too-big wooden hands protruding from the flesh, she wouldn’t have known who it was.
“It looks like Pinocchio in a skin suit,” Maisie whispered.
“We need to run,” Neven hissed in her ear.
“We can’t run. He knows we aren’t part of the club anymore.” Besides, if they escaped his presence now, then flesh-wearing Pinocchio might locate Vale before they had the chance to find Perrie. Then the whole saving Perrie mission would be finished before it had even begun. “Stay here—I’ve got a plan.”
“Oh fuck, not another one.”
Pinocchio hadn’t moved a single wooden muscle—his dark eyes remained unblinking, possibly waiting for them to make the first move. Maisie put on her best soothing face and inched closer to Pinocchio. He held his stance, chest puffed out, proudly wearing the dead skin.
Preparing her ammunition, Maisie cleared her throat before softly whistling a little melody. Pinocchio’s head tilted to the side, creaking with each twist of his neck. It was working—Maisie had his attention.
A tune escaped her lips, one she sang just for him, “Pinocchio wants to be a live boy. He created his own clothes out of skin. It’s time to fall fast asleep and—”
“What are you doing?” Neven demanded, hauling her to him, her back pressing against his firm chest.
“See, it’s working. I’m hypnotizing him with my powers!” She pointed frantically at the wooden boy.
Maisie’s gaze latched onto Pinocchio’s and she opened her mouth to sing again, when he lunged at her. With each step, a groan sounded as he bent his knees. They whirled out of the way right before his hands connected with her throat. She should’ve known her ability wouldn’t work on an immortal.
Pinocchio spun around to attack again, but Neven charged forward first, slamming the immortal into a tree trunk. The wooden boy clawed violently at Neven’s chest, shredding his shirt and skin until blood bloomed to the surface.
Heart pounding, Maisie had to help Neven. Searching around the forest, she spotted a fallen tree branch on top of a bush that she could use as a weapon. She barreled for it, hoping Neven could hold the immortal off. Neven’s power was strength, after all.
Pinocchio viciously gnashed sharp teeth at Neven’s forearm as Maisie snatched the branch. She rushed back, swinging for the savage immortal’s head until she finally thwacked the heavy wood. He howled an ugly sound, distracted enough by the blow to lose his grip on her friend. Neven took the opening and grabbed for Pinocchio, pinning the immortal’s arms and legs to the ground.
The wooden creation hissed as Maisie lifted the branch over his head once more. Without hesitation, she brought it down hard, over and over again. He bucked and thrashed, shaking Neven’s body with the movements. No matter how many times Maisie struck Pinocchio, he didn’t surrender, wouldn’t give up his battle.
“I don’t know what else to do!” Maisie yelled. “Nothing’s happening to his head.”
“Screw this.” Neven took Pinocchio’s head and twisted it side to side. The immortal’s sharp, wooden teeth snapped at Neven’s hands, and she wondered if Neven’s finger would grow back if Pinocchio bit it off.
Neven gave the head one more good twist, then it cracked off. Pinocchio’s body turned limp and something like sap oozed from his neck. Neven’s shoulders relaxed and he appeared pleased with himself as he tossed the wooden boy’s head to the side like a piece of dirty clothing.
“Well done.” Maisie grinned.
“Thanks, I—holy shit!”
Pinocchio’s body sprang to life where Neven was kneeling. Maisie hurled herself toward Pinocchio’s arms while Neven went for the legs. It had been too soon to celebrate. Using his inhuman strength, Neven ripped both legs away with a snap, then finished by cranking off the arms.
Neven hadn’t even broken a sweat. Maisie, however, was drenched, and beads of sweat trickled down her flesh.
“Now what?” Neven asked.
“Do you think he can magically put himself back together?”
It was entirely possible. In her display, Maisie had killed the Huntsman once, and he’d poofed right back to life. From her experience, dead things didn’t always stay dead.
“I don’t know,” Neven started. “Maybe we should bury him? Well, his pieces I guess.”
A finger twitched on Pinocchio’s severed arm. “Maybe bury them separately,” she said.
“Good idea.”
Neven found a patch of dirt and clawed at it with his hands. He dropped one twitchy leg in and hurried to cover it.
He made quick work of the remaining limbs while Maisie hunted down the head. Pinocchio’s eyes were glazed over, glassy like the statues left behind. She pressed her fingers into the cool dirt and tried to make a grave for his head, even though she couldn’t tear the ground up like Neven.
Giving her a lopsided smile, Neven patted her shoulder and gently took the head from her hands. “I got this.”
Pinocchio snapped his teeth at Neven, but he buried the head casually, as if it was totally normal to dig a hole for an almost-dead marionette.
“So, singing to Pinocchio, really?” He laughed deeply when he stood.
Placing her hands on her hips, Maisie jerked her chin toward the fresh plot. “It’s not like I knew for sure it wouldn’t work on him, but I kind of forgot he wasn’t human.”
“The dead skin, wooden head and hands didn’t give it away?” Neven held his hands in the air, and she gave each one a high five. He laughed again, the beautiful sound singing in her ears, as they headed toward the street.
“How’s your chest?” she asked, lifting his torn shirt to inspect the wounds, but they were already healed. Only blood and taut muscles on his strong chest were there.
“I’m all right,” he said, voice low as they stared at one another.
Swallowing, she dropped his shirt and peered down at her hands. “Can we find somewhere to scrub this syrup off unless you want to go search for some pancakes?”
“That’s fucking gross, Mais.”
Maisie laughed. “Come on, I’m pretty sure there are some houses a couple blocks away.” She took one confident step forward before Neven stopped her.
“Look, I know you want to get Perrie back, and I do too, but we need to be more careful. That was close, too close,” he said, his voice firm. But his expression held something softer, concern.
Even though the expression on his face made her heart sing, telling her to take a step toward him, she had to take a step back. “Aw, are you worried something’s going to happen to me?”
“I’m serious!” His shoulders slumped. “I’d miss you, Mais.”
“You’ve been fine without me for months and months, you’d be okay. If something happens to me on the way and it helps save Perrie, that’s fine—she’s all that’s left of my family. There’s no one else.”
Neven tugged at his hair with a dirt-covered hand. “I didn’t try to talk to you because you were harder to get through to than Perrie, and that’s saying a lot.”
His big brown eyes found hers, and she could tell he wanted to say something else. But then he just shook his head and scowled. He didn’t have anyone left either, so she understood where he was coming from, but she needed to try. Perrie had come after her without a second’s hesitation when Maisie had gone missing.
“Let’s get going.” She patted his back a couple of times with a reassuring smile.
He ran a hand down his face, then surprisingly, he laughed. “That’s it? You give me a pat on the back and everything’s fine now?”
“Yes. Now let’s get going before Pinocchio becomes Day of the Dead.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had so far.”
