The sparkling water creature she saw through the window could not be a good thing. And most likely, it had something to do with her son.
She stepped back, her hand rising involuntarily to her mouth as the shock of her visitor hit home. Somehow she knew that something terrible was about to happen.
The creature’s watery hand reached out and grabbed the outside door handle, rattling it again. Lorena couldn’t actually see the knob from her angle, and she wondered how the thing grasped objects if it was made only out of liquid. Then better sense told her that now probably wasn’t the best time to figure out the physics of the situation, and that she’d better run.
But just as she took a step away from the door, the creature melted right in front of her, the water crashing to the pavement outside with a loud splash. It was as if a force field or an invisible membrane had been holding the thing
together, and it had been abruptly taken away, leaving nothing to hold the body together. She realized she’d been holding her breath and sucked in a huge gulp of air in relief. Whatever it had been, whatever purpose . . .
Her thoughts were cut short when movement down by her feet caught her vision.
In the thin space between the door’s lower edge and the short strip of wood that kept out the wind and bugs, a three-foot wide sheet of water began pouring through and onto the kitchen floor. A puddle formed in a matter of seconds, somehow deepening into a narrow pool on the flat linoleum surface.
Before Lorena could react, a horrendous crash rocked the house, the sounds of crunched metal and shredded wood thundering through the air like a sonic boom.
Even as her hands rose to cover her ears, even as the beginnings of a scream formed somewhere in the back of her throat, Lorena saw the puddle at her feet bubble and churn, swirling, coalescing into a bulbous glob, like a huge see-through water balloon about to burst.
And then the glob rose toward the ceiling, slowly reforming its human shape.
The scream finally escaped Lorena’s mouth.
“Dad!”
Tick had faltered when the car hit the house. He was too stunned to move. Of all the things he’d expected to see when he came home, it wasn’t this.
He shook himself out of his daze and ran for the mangled mess of the garage. A hissing sound came from within, the engine letting out its last, dying breath. Smoke and dust billowed out, attacking Tick’s lungs with a vengeance. Coughing, he kicked at the loose metal and broken boards, digging his way in to see if his dad was okay.
“Dad!” he yelled again.
He’d just moved a big chunk of something heavy when the front door to the car popped free, a horrible metal groan screeching through the air as his dad forced it open all the way.
“Dad! What’s going—”
Tick’s voice stuck in his throat when he saw the large body of Edgar Higginbottom stumble out of the car and fall onto the garage floor.
He was covered in . . . goo. Clear goo.
Frozen by fear. Not able to move. Your mind screaming at your legs to run, but your legs not listening. This was why Lorena had left the Realitants long ago, hoping she’d never have to experience it again.
She stared as the mysterious, impossible thing formed, water sluicing upward from the floor, defying the law of gravity in the process. Legs, then torso, then arms, finally a head. The entire process took less than twenty seconds, but it looked unnatural, like a time-lapse film of a geological event that had taken thousands of years.
When the creature finished reforming, the watery demon stood silent for a long moment, staring at her despite the lack of eyeballs or even eye sockets.
Lorena stared back, frozen as much by stubborn disbelief as fear.
Without warning, the creature moved toward her.
Chapter 4
Death by Water
Tick’s dad thrashed about on the garage floor, the thick layer of transparent goo that covered every part of his body bouncing and wiggling like jelly. The gel-like substance was never more than an inch thick in any one spot, but it enveloped Edgar from head to toe. Most alarming was the clear mask covering his face.
The man obviously couldn’t breathe. More than a year ago, Tick had almost seen his dad die; he felt the same horrible panic now.
“Dad!” Tick yelled again. He knew screaming wasn’t going to help no matter how many times he did it. He had to do something.
He knelt down beside his squirming dad, who kept grabbing and tearing at the gel on his face, ripping sections away from his mouth to catch a quick breath only to have the goo be replaced almost instantly. When Tick saw his dad’s hands rip at the stuff and saw the way it splashed and wavered, he realized it wasn’t goo at all.
It was water.
Somehow, some force had captured his dad in a man-sized pool of water.
And it was killing him.
Something trembled inside Tick, fluttered, as if a raven had magically appeared inside his stomach and was trying to escape. Heat surged through his veins. Pressure built up behind his skull, pushing outward, hurting. He closed his eyes, rubbed them.
His . . . problem. He knew it was his problem. The stress of the situation had ignited his inexplicable reservoir of Chi’karda, causing it to erupt inside him. It was just like what had happened in Chu’s palace. It was starting all over again. But he couldn’t afford to lose control now.
No, he told himself. Not this time. I have to save Dad.
He took several long breaths and concentrated, probing his body with his thoughts, reaching out to something he didn’t comprehend. Repressing it, pushing it away. Calming himself. He imagined the Chi’karda surge as a cloud of orange mist—as Mistress Jane had shown him months ago—trapped within his ribcage. Mentally, he made the cloud dissipate, weaken, flow out of him. Go somewhere else. Somewhere safe.
He had no idea what he was doing. He’d spent months trying to understand the power within him, make it a tangible thing. He’d spent months failing. But urgency won out. He felt his heart slow, felt the heat cool away, felt the pressure release.
It was gone. Tick opened his eyes, looked down, focused.
His dad’s face was turning purple.
Lorena’s screams were drowned out in a sickening
gurgle as the cold wave of water crashed into her. The creature had leaped into the air and dove for her face, forming into a thick stream and slamming into her like a sudden burst from a fire hose. She shook her head, spitting and coughing, and grabbed at her face. Instead of washing off her and falling to the floor, the liquid seemed to stick, enveloping her head and neck in a mask of water. It crept into her mouth, into her throat. She gagged, spit again. She wiped frantically at her face, but it did no good.