SWEAT WAS POURING DOWN my brow, stinging my eyes.
I looked at Ariana. Her face was pale and haggard, streaked with tears. She reached out to me. “David?”
Her fingers were icicles. I took them and drew her closer.
With a sudden spasm, the ground lurched again.
“Let go of each other!” Reggie demanded.
I held her tighter. Rage welled up within me. Through clenched teeth, I said, “Go to hell, Reggie.”
A blast from below knocked us off our feet. We tumbled away from each other. Around us fell broken chunks of the wall.
I landed on my back, which was now ridged with bumps the size of ball bearings.
“Decide now!” Reggie shouted.
“David!” Ariana cried.
“Hold me!” I said. “Our togetherness hurts her.”
We struggled to our feet and clutched each other. “You decide, Pytho,” I shouted. “Which one of us should die?”
BOOOOOOOOMMMMM!
It felt as if an atom bomb had exploded. The priests’ column split.
As the three of them held on, the smoke screened them from our view. Clouds gathered around us, thickening to the consistency of gelatin.
Then, slowly, Ariana and I began to rise.
We both screamed. What we could see of the wall was crumbling, falling. Flakes of it embedded themselves into our platform.
We clung to each other. Our rise was slow and unsteady. We heard Jonas’s voice boom out: “When the pain gets too great — when the growths are too much to endure — only Pytho will be able to save you. And then you will come back. Begging.”
Pytho’s roar became more distant, until it was a low, agonized drone.
My fear was lifting. Relief washed over me like a summer rain. When the ledge came into view, we could see two figures peering over.
“David! Ariana!”
First we made out Chief Hayes’s face. A moment later we saw the other person: Mr. Sarro, slack-jawed, clutching a can of Coca-Cola with both hands.
“What the — ” Chief Hayes said. “Can you kids walk? Are you all right? How did you — what — ”
Mr. Sarro’s hands were trembling. Cola spurted from his can and fell to the ground. It landed on a broken-off chunk of Pytho’s wall, which sizzled. “Wh-what happened to their faces?” he stammered.
“Oh, no,” Ariana moaned. Her face was now covered with lumps. I ran my fingers over my own face and felt my heart sink.
When the growths are too much to endure . . .
“Never mind,” Chief Hayes said. “Let’s get out of here. If there’s another tremor like that last one, I don’t want to be under this building.”
Holding hands, Ariana and I followed Chief Hayes and Mr. Sarro.
Pytho was quiet now, and the air had cleared somewhat. As we wound through the basement, Chief Hayes called over his shoulder, “You’re lucky I found you. I was called to a fender-bender down the road. Some kid jumped into a busy street, then tore off for the high school, according to a witness. The rest was cop’s intuition. I met Mr. Sarro when I got here.”
“DeWaart was running upstairs with these kids in costumes!” Mr. Sarro said. He struggled to steady his hand as he took a swig of soda.
A few more drops spilled to the ground. They hit another chunk of Pytho’s wall, and the chunk bubbled.
Ariana stopped. She was watching the bubbles intensely. When she looked up, her eyes were on fire.
“Guess what, guys?” she said. “We’re going back there.”
“Are you nuts?” I replied. “We’ll be killed.”
“No we won’t.” Ariana grinned wildly. “We’ll be armed.”