“Yeah, right, I'll do my best. If … when you find Geezer, ask him to take a bath, would ya?”

  We exchanged hugs between the three of us, and they got ready to leave.

  “Go back to your room and make sure Hood isn't watching scary movies. He gets nightmares.” Hood never came to the restaurant, and avoided public places as best he could, so he was back in his room, doing who knows what. Can a man watch TV with a piece of cloth covering his face? I made a note to test that when I got back to the room, just for curiosity's sake.

  “All right. You guys be careful, and hurry back. We'll go to the horse barn every day at five o'clock, looking for your return.”

  Since we'd learned by now that there are no words to say in such situations, we finally gave up and just said good-bye. I watched them walk out the door, finished off my water, and walked back to Hood's room. I had no idea what it would be like to share a room with a guy who lives in a robe and talks with his finger, and I would never find out. He'd insisted on having his own room. But we did exchange keys in case of an emergency.

  Turns out he wasn't watching TV at all, but was snoozing on his bed, snoring like a stuffy nosed rhino. Despite the nervous feeling in my gut, I laughed out loud. For some reason, I just didn't think a guy who couldn't talk would be able to snore. I sneaked out and headed for my room.

  I got ready for bed, although I had no idea how I could possibly fall asleep. I turned off the lights, flopped onto my bed, and lay in the darkness, trying my best not to think of the coming day.

  North Pole.

  The Lady of the Storm.

  Red Disk.

  The Dream Warden.

  Bargaining for my dad's life.

  Custer “Raspy” Bleak.

  The thoughts danced and jiggled up and down all through my brain, no matter how hard I tried to empty my head. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, I sighed and decided to switch on the TV, hoping it would serve as a distraction and lull me to sleep.

  I would regret doing so, because what I saw robbed me of any chance of falling asleep. Every channel had switched to some type of news program, with the glaring words “Breaking News” flashing at the bottom of the screen. It only took a few minutes to get the gist of it.

  The world had fallen into complete chaos.

  The images flashing across the TV screen would have been disturbing enough if they had only been part of a movie. Knowing that what I was watching was real—actually happening in the world as I sat on the bed and stared—made my bones shiver.

  No single phrase could sum up what I saw. But with each passing minute, I realized more and more that the terrible future predicted by both my enemies and my allies was here.

  People running through the streets, screaming and looting, setting fires.

  Frightened men and women cowering on the ground, hands over their ears, spooked by some unseen force.

  Armies and Navies being readied for full alert status.

  Airplanes crashing into the ocean, ships sinking out at sea.

  Traffic jams, vehicle pile-ups, burning bridges, people abandoning their cars, buildings engulfed in flame.

  But none of these things were the real news. They were only the reaction of a population that had finally learned the truth—the world was not the same one they had taken for granted for so many years.

  Shadow Ka were everywhere. New York City. Los Angeles. Hong Kong. Sydney. Rio de Janeiro. Mexico City. Tokyo.

  Tokyo. The capital city of Japan. They were close to us, even now.

  Their evolution had progressed to an alarming state. Very few cameramen were brave enough to keep shooting when one came into view, but there were enough shots to see that almost no human characteristics remained. Black, winged shapes swooped through the cities, screaming their familiar call. The frantic masses had nowhere to run as they learned the harsh truth that the world had changed forever.

  Then I noticed perhaps the most frightening thing of all. In almost all of the shots, difficult to see at first amongst the chaos, there were people … sleeping. The news commentators kept saying they were dead, but something told me they were wrong. I could possibly be the only person on Earth who understood that the Ka had no intent whatsoever to kill anyone. Thanks to Farmer and his lecture during my trip to the Tower of Air, I now knew what the Ka were doing.

  Their demented mixture of fear and magic would lull us all into a special state of slumber, readying us for the onslaught of the Stompers—that formidable enemy that literally took the shape of our worst nightmares.

  The Ka had begun their enormous task—preparing my world for the Stompers.

  No wonder everything around us was like a ghost town—this had to have been going on for at least a few days. Things had progressed at an exponential rate while we were at sea, and like a ballistic missile to the center of my chest, I realized that our time was now up.

  The Stompers were here. Any day now, the rest would arrive in full force.

  A few minutes later, I couldn't take it anymore. With every new city, it was only more of the same. Chaos bred by fear of storybook monsters.

  I grabbed the remote. Just as my finger pressed the on/off button, something caught my attention in the instant before the screen went dark. At first, I interpreted it as a trick of the mind—an effect of my exhaustion and stress. But I turned the TV back on anyway. The screen flared to life, and it instantly confirmed what I had seen.

  I dropped the remote.

  Spread across the TV, on worldwide television, a face stared at me that I had seen probably a million times during my short life.

  It was me.

  I'm sure my chin had dropped enough to make me look like a yawning baboon. I wouldn't have been more surprised if Hood had stood up and started singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious…

  As still as a box of frozen fish sticks, I listened to the news-woman and her British accent.

  “… the growing rumor that began in a small Japanese village has suddenly sparked perhaps the most urgent task of a generation. World leaders in an emergency phone conference immediately agreed to commission a joint task force for the sole purpose of finding the boy.

  “Although stories of the young man known as Jimmy Fincher were hard to swallow at first—despite the vast amount of amateur video footage taken during the now-famous helicopter incident—it now appears to be shockingly true. Most applicable to our current crisis are the accounts of Fincher single-handedly defeating creatures similar to the ones that are now attacking the world in a vicious, synchronized assault, leaving countless bodies in their wake.

  “It is widely agreed that the boy must have invaluable knowledge concerning the creatures and their purposes, not to mention the inexplicable and other-worldly powers he exhibited in defeating them in the oft mentioned and constantly debated incident spoken of previously.

  “We at the BBC join our fellow news associates around the world in pleading for information that may assist the authorities in finding this boy, Jimmy Fincher. If you have knowledge that may lead to his whereabouts, please call the number at the bottom of your screen. Now, we are getting reports that new attacks have been caught on film in the southern portion of South Africa …”

  This time when I turned off the TV, the black claws of a Shadow Ka were the last things I saw on the screen before darkness swallowed the room.

  I rolled over onto my bed, grabbed a pillow, and stuffed it under my head. I knew sleep would not come, but I tried to clear my mind of everything to at least give my head a break. Of course, it didn't work.

  Everything depended on tomorrow. I could call the number and tell them where I was located, but what good would it do? They'd probably send an entire army to whisk me away to some underground military base for questioning.

  No. Make it to tomorrow, go to the North Pole with Hood, and find the Lady and the Red Disk. Somehow I would figure out a way to save Dad without jeopardizing my search for the Dream Warden, and then I would get the final Gift needed to defeat the Stompers. Then I could tell the authorities.

  Just make it to tomorrow.

  The dull glow of pre-dawn snapped me out of that strange realm between sleep and wakefulness. Never having fallen into a truly deep slumber, I had nevertheless drifted off into some sort of bizarre daydream world in which I kept imagining Tanaka coming back to us dressed in a tutu. As strange as it was, I rose from my bed with a renewed sadness for our lost companion.

  These thoughts and feelings dissolved into oblivion as I remembered the news program from just hours earlier. The world was looking for me. The whole premise seemed more unlikely than the vision of Tanaka in a pink dancing outfit, returning from the depths of the ocean. But it was true.

  The world was looking for me. They knew about the Gifts, they wanted my help. And I was about to run from them.

  As I went to the bathroom for a quick shower, the images of thousands of people, lying in the streets as if dead, filled my head. How many people out there were mourning the loss of loved ones? How long was it taking for people to realize they were actually entrapped in a magical sleep? I was tempted to call the number flashed a million times on the screen by the BBC just to make sure the people knew what was happen-ing—that the Stompers were really and truly coming now.

  But the idea washed away with the rest of the sweat and grime as I showered. I had to focus. All that mattered for the moment was getting to the North Pole and entering the Blackness.

  When I was dressed and ready for the big day, I called Hood's room. He picked up the receiver, without a word of course—they still haven't invented phones that transmit finger paint—and I told him it was time. I put on my backpack—to store the Red Disk and whatever else I might find—and looked down at the special watch we'd bought the day before in a little convenience store. According to the digital timepiece, we had an hour before the Rip opened. Then I would utilize the stopwatch feature to count down the fifty-six minutes once it did.

  Fifty-six minutes. I had to enter the Blackness, find a gateway, enter a world full of waiting Shadow Ka without them noticing, seek out the Lady of the Storm, and follow her bidding in fifty-six minutes. Even Farmer had sounded less than hopeful it could be accomplished.

  While I waited for Hood, it was tempting to turn the TV back on and see if anything new had developed. But it would be too distracting, and it was time to get down to business.

  There was a sharp knock at the door. I took a deep breath and readied myself for the trip of a lifetime. I walked over to the door, grabbed the handle, turned and pulled. I looked out at the person who had knocked.

  It was not Hood.

  “Mr. Fincher?”

  The man standing in the hallway of the hotel was American and very large. He wore a dark suit with a red tie, and I was surprised that he had no sunglasses perched on his nose. Everything else about him yelled out three letters—

  F … B … I.

  A sense of panic swelled up inside of me.

  “Yeah, I'm Jimmy Fincher,” I said. I couldn't help but try and look around him for any sign of Hood, and the man noticed.

  “Don't worry, Mr. Fincher, I am alone. My name is Hammer, and I'm with the Secret Service of the United States of America. I'm here to rescue you and your family and take you back home.”

  It seems like such a cliché, but the guy's words rendered me speechless. Of all the things to happen right before we left for the North Pole—after weeks of waiting for that very moment! I should've known from the TV report that they would find me in no time—I'd seen enough movies to know they were fast.

  “Secret Service?” I asked. “I thought you guys protected the President.”

  “That's exactly what we're trying to do.” The man (had he really referred to himself as Hammer?) reached out and grabbed my arm. “Please, come with me, you will be safe now. Where are your other family members?” He looked over my shoulder into the dark room and then focused back on me.

  “They … uh … I don't know.”

  I didn't know what to do. Where was Hood? We had to hurry and get up there, time was running out. Hammer pulled me out into the hallway and told me to stay put. I looked in both directions, desperate for a glimpse of Hood. Where was he?

  The agent searched my room and then came back. It was then I realized that he trusted me and had no reason to believe I wouldn't take him up on the offer to go back to America with all the protection of the United States Secret Service. They had no idea what I was up to and the things I had seen and done.

  Whatever the case, there was one thing for sure—there was no way I could mingle with this guy any longer.

  Without a word to him, I took off running down the hall.

  Hammer didn't even bother shouting. He ran after me with a pounding of footsteps, all signs of his polite demeanor vanishing as he realized I wasn't so desperate to go with him after all.

  My head start had been woefully short, so he was on me in no time. His hand landed on my right shoulder, squeezing me with the intent to spin me around. I dove for the floor and rolled, the Shield finally kicking in. His body flung over me, the look of surprise on his face a brief flash before he looked down to break his fall.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran in the other direction. This time he did yell out.

  “What are you doing? I'm here to help you!”

  I didn't look back, hoping I'd gained a few more seconds. At the end of the hallway was a door that led outside, to a flight of stairs skirting the side of the building facing the ocean. I slammed into the door and it flew open. My whole body banged into the iron railing, and then I flew down the stairs, leaping and banging with reckless abandon, in the full clutches of desperation. My room had only been on the fourth floor, and I reached the ground just as Hammer erupted from the building upstairs.

  “Fincher!” he yelled. “Wait! Please!”

  I was already running to the front of the building. A quick glance at my watch revealed that the Rip would open in thirty minutes. Everything was crashing down—I had to find Hood or it was all a waste. He was my only means of getting there in time.

  A person who thought well under pressure would've realized that the front of the hotel was the worst place to go—Agent Hammer's associates would surely be there waiting. I wasn't used to running from government officials. As I whipped around the corner of the building and headed for the front entrance, my mistake became evident. Five or six Hammer look-alikes waited there—one even had the typical mirror-lens sunglasses on, despite the complete lack of sunshine for as long as I could remember.

  I came to a halt. Trapped. Running away from the building would do no good, because finding Hood was the only reason for losing these guys in the first place. Without Hood, there was nothing to run for.

  One of the agents, a woman, sensed my defeat and walked over to a white van. She opened the double doors on the back, swinging them both outward until the inside was fully revealed.

  Hood sat there, his head drooping even more than usual.

  Hammer caught up from behind.

  “Jimmy,” he said, panting. “What's the deal? We're here to help you, man.” I turned to face him, and he had his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Come on, now, let's get in the van and get out of here.”

  My mind clicked into overdrive, trying to devise a plan. All we needed was the Bender Ring and ten seconds alone. Dejected, I walked over to the back of the van before an agent decided to grab my arm again.

  Then it hit me that I was intentionally refraining from using my Gifts. For some reason it seemed strange to use them against these guys because they were good. I had never done that before, and realized that maybe that was why the Shield had seemed to take longer than usual to protect me from Hammer upstairs when he grabbed me from behind.

  I looked at my watch. There was no more time to mess around.

  “Uh … look guys, I really appreciate you coming to rescue us,” I said, wanting to lessen the blow of what I was about to do, but not knowing how. “I can explain everything to you and to whoever else later, but right now my strange-looking friend and I have important things to do.”

  The agents looked at each other, asking with their eyes if I had gone nutso.

  “Look, I don't know what to say. See ya, take care.”

  I stepped to the van, reached in, and grabbed Hood's arm. Our troubles were over.

  Hood understood, and stepped out of the van, making sure he did nothing to make me lose my grip. Then everything went crazy.

  Hammer was the first one to try and grab us. When his hand rebounded off of the Shield, the look on his face reminded me of the time my friend poured chocolate milk down Bonnie Bingle's back during lunch. When Bonnie gasped and whipped around, it turned out Bonnie was actually Mrs. Shaw, our homeroom teacher. My friend's face couldn't have shown more shock if it had been Homer Simpson whose shirt he'd just defiled.

  As they always do, Hammer tried again, this time with more force. When the Shield threw him backward, the rest of the agents swarmed in. One by one, they flew in every direction, tumbling across the pavement.

  Hood and I walked calmly to the hotel entrance, my hand firmly planted on his arm.

  Once inside, we abandoned all sense of being cool and darted for the elevator. The agents ran inside just as the elevator opened with a soft “bing.” We stepped onto the lift and turned, facing our annoying heroes.

  They ran for us as one. Hood's pale hand reached out and hit the button for the third floor, where his room was located. The doors began to close. The woman agent was almost on us. The sliding doors came to within a foot of closing when her hand reached through and set off the sensors, making the doors open up again.

  “Please, lady,” I said, “you don't understand what it is we have to do. Just leave us alone.”

  By this time, she stood there, holding the doors open, while the other agents joined her.

  “Mr. Fincher,” she said, “the whole world has fallen into chaos, and we know that you had something to do with it. One way or another, you are coming with us.”