LOT'S MOUNTAIN

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: That Which is Lost

There's more fighting on the east side of town, near the racetrack. We see two groups of monsters, about fifty in one and twenty in another. They slam against each other. Skeiron's still hurt, but he flies higher. Everywhere we pass, monsters rip into each other. Glass erupts into the air, exploding all around us, as yet another tidal wave smacks into more Belle Lake monsters.

Skeiron weaves left and then right. The wind pounds against us as we keep going like a bat outta hell. He slows way down and almost drops. Hang in there. Just a little longer.

Suddenly there's a loud crunch and a sizzle. I look down and see what's left of what used to be a cluster of buildings that used to be houses. It's like something just bit through the stone, leaving little pieces of glass behind.

We see more fields with bodies of monsters and people. There are a couple of groups of monsters loping in the direction of Belle Lake.

Then we fly over some woods. Three different groups of monsters. They're all headed in the direction we are. Maybe we should—

Skeiron drops again. No. I say this is more like plummet, like throwing a boulder off a roof. We fall and then he starts flying again. Instead of going higher, we coast down into one of the groups of monsters. I sure hope that Skeiron knows what he's doing.

Two things that look like heaps of leaves with blazing blue eyes jump at us. Just as they get ready to land on Jamie and me, there's a loud screech of a violin and the things fly apart.

Thank you, Mourner. Looking over my shoulder, I see him nod to me.

Those three groups of monsters are coming here to crush this group of Belle Lake monsters.

But it's already too late. There are about fifty to sixty of them now. Three white shirts are with them. One's an old man. The other two are women in their thirties. They're spouting off Bible verses about the end of the world and the four horsemen.

Speaking of psychos on horseback, WHERE THE HELL IS THE HUNTSMAN??? It would be really good if he was here. He's off somewhere kicking ass, but right now we have Glass breathing down our necks.

All of the good-guy monsters jam in around Jamie and me to protect us.

I wish Jamie could melt the Glass freaks, but they're not made of stone or dirt. I reckon she could bury the bastards like she did the kappas, but we can't let the Glass Man know about her, not yet.

Jamie tries to hold me back, but I push forward.

One of the white shirts, an old guy with a beard, holds out his hands. As soon as he does, white light starts to spark between his fingers.

A monster near me shouts something that sounds like a warning.

The white light gets brighter. That damn white shirt's going to fry us unless I do something.

I'm strong enough for this. I don't need anybody to tell me that I am. I can do this. Because I have to. If I don't, then we die.

Taking one hand off Hanzaki, I stretch out my fingers. Before that light can leave the white shirt's fingers, I think about them GONE. Not just one of them. They're connected, just like all the Kappas were connected. Like magic connects Jamie and me.

Glass runs through all of these assholes.

Then I whisper, "Gone."

A simple thought and a simple word and then—

POOF! The three white shirts and most of the monsters with them aren't there anymore. There are seven concrete gargoyle statues in their place though. The Glass monsters left are surprised as hell. They start backing up, but stop as more Glass monsters and white shirts flood in around them.