They both believed in the seamless machine.

That a zillion pieces fit together to make something miraculous.

A beautifully ordered universe, where if you talked to the stars, they listened. Where things happened for a reason, be it the design of Holy God or Good and Miraculous Science. Something out there had a handle on this flimsy universe.

When the accident happened, it was like a loose bolt had slipped off and gotten caught in the universe’s cogs. One tiny piece had broken it all. That was what I’d thought.

Now I understood it had never worked to begin with.

Things happened. Random, horrible things no itty-bitty human could protect another itty-bitty human from. The machine was a black hole, a cold, lightless thing.

It did not have nerves or blood-filled veins.

It was not made for itty-bitty, ooey-gooey humans, and it did not care what became of us.

It was a disinterested force, a mass’s gravity pulling us toward its center, the point where all things ended.

The only thing you could do was to try not to stare at it as it pulled you closer.

I pushed the thoughts away, buried them in a box with that fierce white light.

I needed to find that fucking necklace and get out of here, forget all this.

My flashlight caught the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, the fake blood, the fireplace where Arthur had directed Levi to arrange the fake bones.

I paced back and forth, checking among the glass shards and cigarette butts for the shell, then went upstairs. My stomach tightened as I followed the hall to the bedroom where we’d watched the light fall from the sky.

Focus.

I swept the flashlight across the room.

Nothing.

We hadn’t gone into any of the other rooms—the meteor shower had distracted us. Which meant the shell necklace could only be by the fence or inside the substation. I turned back into the hall and headed for the stairs.

In the dark room at the end of the hall, something clattered.

Cold dread knifed through my middle. I froze, the flashlight beam shivering on the floor, my lungs pausing mid breath.

My body went rigid and still, but my heart thrummed at hummingbird speed.

The house was horror-film silent. I must have imagined the clatter. I was alone.

Or I’m not.

Or someone was in the room beyond the stairs, holding a chain with a blue-gray nautilus shell on its end.

My skin went cold. Why did I literally never carry the Mace Arthur gave me?

Defiance, an irritating voice answered me. To prove you don’t need his help.

I didn’t. Because I was alone. I’d imagined the sound.

I took another step. The floor creaked. The light in the hallway flickered on and off.

My heart leapt into the tight tunnel of my throat.

Had I imagined that?

This house couldn’t have electricity, after all these years abandoned. My eardrums pounded with my pulse as I waited, breath held, eyes fixed to the dark floor.

Light flickered once more across the floorboards, and a low hum buzzed directly over my head.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze. The frosted glass dome mounted to the ceiling flickered again, faster, brighter, denting the pitch-black of the hallway. My hair lifted out from my head and my skin prickled, and all was quiet except that intermittent buzz.

And then the sound of movement rose from the room again.

Something was definitely here with me.

Remy was wrong. The thing wasn’t in me.

Or maybe there were more.

I tightened my grip on the flashlight, like I could bludgeon whatever came running out at me with this half pound of plastic, and slowly, careful not to make a sound, I reached into my pocket for my phone.

The screen fuzzed. The overhead lights flickered faster, as if in response. The thing inside the room moved closer to the doorway, and the light went wild.

I stood there, alone, waiting for it.

TWELVE

ON THREE I WAS going to run.

Through the flashing lights, the buzz of current surging through the house.

I wouldn’t look back. I’d get as far away as possible, then call the others, warn them not to go near the house.

Except then Arthur would beeline for it. So maybe not.

One.

More thunking movement. Clumsy, belabored.

Two.

I braced myself.

Three!

I sprinted for the stairs just as the thing came flying out of the room, the lights flaring so bright the hall washed white. Overhead, the bulb exploded, glass shattering, the light winking out.

I screamed and smacked into the wall as a mottle of colorful dots spun across my vision, superimposed over the sudden darkness. I swung the flashlight defensively, and the thin beam of light struck my shrieking attacker and its wild black eyes.

“Raccoon,” I gasped, clutching for the missing necklace as the animal barreled back the way it had come, striped tail bobbing.

Just a raccoon.

My heart slowed. I caught my breath, shone the flashlight on the floor, searching for shattered glass.

The frosted glass dome had caught the pieces of the bulb when it exploded.

The bulb.

If the thing in that room hadn’t caused that power surge, then what had?

Me? I thought.

The thing in me?

The hall rocked. I closed my eyes until the feeling passed. I couldn’t think about this right now. I needed to get down to the fence and find the necklace. That was the only thing I had control over.