The bullet whistled towards Twelve. There was no danger of it hitting her, but she seemed to sense the aftershock, the way the air moved around it.
At first nothing happened.
It seemed as though the bullet was swallowed by the glass. But, as everyone watched, tiny cracks erupted around the hole, spreading like icy veins. Splintering into a billion pieces of every conceivable shape and size, the huge glass window shattered.
Time became fractured.
The pressure in the room changed, morphing into something alien, something terrifying.
A rectangular block of water pressed into the room.
It smelt strange— a mix of chemicals, salty and stagnant.
Harunara screamed. Her long golden arms whirred demonically as the water engulfed her and Twelve.
Erin frantically hammered the number 70 on the evaluator panel.
The doors inched shut as the entire ocean entered the room. A thinning, vertical wave burst into the boxcar as the doors pulled together.
The boxcar shuddered and rocked back and forth.
Water hammered on the outside, pooling beneath, flooding in through air holes and worn fixings.
But they were rising.
4 ... 5 ... 6 ... 7
The elevator was taking them up. Slowly at first. The cables and counterweights yawned high above. But then they started to gather speed. The noise of the churning water below became deafening.
13 ... 14 ... 15 ... 16
Marshall tried to say something, but his voice was utterly lost. Instead, he grabbed Erin by the arm. They huddled together. Fear of the unknown crawling across their faces.
Socks disappeared into the rucksack, yelping frantically.
28 ... 29 ... 30 ... 31
The pressure was building. Water poured into the rattling boxcar at an alarming rate. Erin found her body being forced toward the ground as they were propelled ever upwards.
45 ... 46 ... 47 ... 48
Erin tumbled, taking Marshall with her. Jack grabbed them before they collapsed face first into the waist high water.
59 ... 60 ... 61 ... 62
Something changed.
The boxcar felt detached, light, airborne.
The torrent that had been pushing them up had reached water level and spilled out, flooding the sixty-second floor.
But the boxcar was still climbing.
They were going too fast.
Sooner or later they were going to reach the top of the elevator shaft.
Marshall's fingers gripped Erin even tighter.
Her smile was full and wicked.
Twisting metal screeched and wailed.
Sparks and steam billowed into the air.
Rocketing upwards, the boxcar tore the cable housing apart, erupting through the top of the lift shaft and out onto the roof. With a sickly crash, their tiny metal transport landed, rolling onto its back, screeching against the concrete to a juddering halt.
Jack reached up and threw the doors open.
Leaning in, a dozen mannequins stared back.
It was hard to tell what the mannequins were thinking as they stared down into the battered boxcar. Their Blue King was squashed between a girl and a wickerman, all of them clad in metal piping and office furniture, brandishing crudely made weapons.
YOU ARE READING
The Last Scarecrow
Fantasy(Scarecrows of Coldharbour Farm #1) WINNER Wattys 2021 | '...adorable and heartbreaking...' Erin loved to build scarecrows. She made a dozen in all. Her Pa showed her how. But he's dead now. Everyone is dead. The Many Years Storm saw to that. Terrif...
