“Correct,” I say. “One killer at a time.”

  CHAPTER 82

  I’M REALLY HOPING this is our last visit.

  It’s just after dark. I’m walking through the World’s Fair entry gate again with Margo and Maddy. This time the buzzing crowd and bright lights are just background. I barely notice the magical Ferris wheel. All I know is that somewhere behind all these twinkling lights, a monster is lurking—a monster who killed Maddy’s friend, then tried to kill her. This isn’t just about protecting the city. It’s about protecting my family.

  “Tonight, we stay together, clear?” Margo slips her arm through mine. Maddy just nods. If I could get away with putting her on one of Bando’s leashes, I would.

  “I’ll show you where it happened,” she says, leading the way down the main concourse. We look like just another happy family in the crowd. On our way, we pass the hydroponics pavilion, the transplanted rain forest, and the dome where I took my asteroid ride—the exact spot where I first felt the killer’s presence. As we walk, I hear the pounding of drums, getting louder with every step.

  Maddy stops in front of a huge pavilion. The drum sounds are coming from inside. “Right here,” she says. “I chased him through this stadium. I thought it was Deva.” She steps back and points to a dark passageway alongside the pavilion. “The fight happened back there.”

  From inside, the sound of the drumming intensifies. Margo makes a sour face and covers her ears. “Lamont, I can’t stand that din!”

  I glance up and down the concourse. “Let’s keep moving. From the crime photos, it looks like the bastard never strikes twice in the same place. If Maddy saw him here, odds are he’s hiding somewhere else.”

  “If he’s a shape-shifter,” says Margo, “he could be anywhere. Or anything.”

  She’s right. Suddenly a pet dog licking spilled ice cream looks suspicious. So does a pigeon perched on a light pole. The monster we’re looking for could be disguised as any person, any animal, any object.

  Maddy heads across the concourse toward a structure that’s designed to look like a giant high-tech cave. The surface seems to absorb light, creating a huge dark void in the middle of the fairgrounds. I hadn’t noticed it before. Maddy stops at the entrance and waves us over.

  “He likes the dark,” she says. “This looks promising.”

  Margo and I follow her through the entryway into some kind of vacuum chamber. No light. No sound. After a few seconds, a door glides open to reveal a vast interior.

  The walls and ceiling are flat black—and the space is filled with living, walking skeletons.

  As soon as we step onto the floor, it happens to us, too. Some kind of wide-angle X-ray beam causes our clothing and flesh to disappear, leaving only our bones showing. Maddy does a slow spin, admiring her inner framework—arms, legs, hands, feet—all shining with some kind of phosphorescent glow.

  Margo looks down and sees her pelvic bones and lower extremities. She gasps. “For God’s sake, Lamont! This is invasive!”

  Personally, I think it’s fascinating. I’ve seen plenty of skeletons before, but mostly in bits and pieces. Watching the whole human architecture alive and in motion is something else. We’re surrounded by pulsing rib cages, strutting femurs, and craniums of every shape and size.

  Little kids are squealing and laughing, poking each other with their small, glowing phalanges. Anything metal is visible as a crisp white silhouette. Coins and belt buckles, jackknives and pacemakers. On some people, I can see pins and screws from orthopedic surgeries. One man has a plate in his skull. I hold up my left hand to admire the bright symmetry of my wedding band.

  “Lamont, please!” says Margo, her jawbone moving up and down. “I can’t stand this!”

  I do another quick scan of the crowd, looking for any form that’s abnormally large or misshapen. Does the monster even have bones? Can he mask them? All I see are fellow human beings, living images of the way we’ll all end up—just a collection of hardened proteins and minerals. Whoever thought up this display was either a voyeur or a philosopher. Maybe both.

  Margo grabs my arm. “Get me the hell out of here!”

  I reach for Maddy on the other side. “Okay, let’s go.”

  But she’s not there.

  CHAPTER 83

  “MADDY!”

  Margo is screaming at the top of her lungs as we push toward the exit. I’m thinking maybe Maddy turned invisible. Maybe she was embarrassed by her bones.

  Maybe she’s waiting for us outside. Or maybe she went against my direct orders and set off on her own again.

  “Dammit, Lamont!” Margo yells. “She promised to stay with us!”

  Outside the pavilion, I turn to look in every direction. Margo is frantic, calling out Maddy’s name again and again. From across the concourse, a small girl walks toward us, staring at me as she comes. Blond hair, blue eyes. In her right hand, she’s holding a string with a black balloon attached. It bobs a few feet above her head. Margo turns around just as the girl hands me the string.

  “Pop it,” the girl says. Then she walks away, melting into the crowd like she was never there. Margo yanks a clip from her hair and stabs the balloon. The rubber implodes and shrivels. A small card falls to the ground.

  Margo bends over to grab it. We read the message together.

  DON’T JUST STAND THERE. SHE CAN’T BE FAR.

  Margo looks up at me with terror in her eyes. “The Destroyer has her.”

  CHAPTER 84

  MARGO AND I are running up the concourse, looking left and right, ducking into entryways, peeking into the dark alleys between the pavilions. I realize that if the Destroyer really wants to hurt Margo, this is how to do it—by taking Maddy. There’s nothing crueler. For Margo, losing that girl would be worse than dying. I think the Destroyer knows it, too.

  People are staring at us. We probably look like two crazed parents with a lost baby. Which is exactly how it feels. Two undercover cops start moving toward us. I can’t tell if they want to help us or stop us. I don’t have time for this.

  Time!

  I pull Margo to a halt. “Lamont! What are you doing?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have to try.”

  I’ve never done this. I’m not even sure if it’s possible. It’s way beyond my training. Another one of the forbidden skills. But if I can stop Maddy from being taken away, I’ll try. I bend forward at the waist and press my hands against my head. It feels like I have a storm raging inside my brain. Images are whipping around like tree limbs in a tornado. I see green-painted faces. Glowing skeletons. The killer’s face.

  Focus! Make it happen!

  Suddenly, everything stops.

  Actually stops.

  When I look up, everything is frozen in place. Rides. People. Margo. I’m the only thing moving. The only one breathing.

  I’ve suspended time.

  I start moving up the main thoroughfare, past people as still as statues.

  Suddenly, I feel a vibration, fast and loud—pounding against the ground.

  I look into the distance. Thank God! It’s Maddy!

  She’s the only other person moving—coming toward me from about fifty yards away. She’s screaming, but I can’t hear her. Her eyes are wide and her expression is pure horror. She raises her arm and points behind me.

  Suddenly I feel it—a squirming weight on my shoulder and a sharp pain on the back of my neck, like I’m being pierced with knives. I whip around and see a fat, greasy rat drop to the ground, its tail curling like a long pink worm.

  The image of the rodent imprints on my brain. I shudder as I feel the shift—totally out of my control. I have no choice. Now I’m on the ground in a four-footed stance. Small and compact. The world is a blur of blues and greens. Vibrations shoot through my body. My hairs stand on end. A cocktail of hormones fires me up for the fight of my life.

  Rat on rat.

  CHAPTER 85

  FOR THE FIRST few seconds, I’m in shock. I suddenly realize that most of my brain is now devoted to smell. Food. Garbage. Sweat. And an overwhelming musk from a few feet away. Before the human remnant of my brain can react, the other rat is on me, banging into me broadside, then turning to attack with its back paws—fierce, punishing kicks that I feel against my ribs, rattling my internal organs.

  My muscles tighten. But it’s all defense. I’m not sure how to retaliate. My instincts are still recalibrating. My senses are overloaded. Then the other rat turns and rushes at me, ramming into me so hard I can feel the bones under its fur. Sharp claws rake across my face. Fangs dig into my neck again, shooting hot sparks of pain through my whole body. I’m twisting, writhing, trying to escape. Suddenly, I’m on my back, belly up. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep them from being gouged out. The odor of musk and greasy fur is overpowering. My ears are filled with high-pitched squeaks and hissing. I thrash to one side and throw the weight off me. And…

  Pow! A loud thud and a sickening crunch.

  I look up and see a human shape and a black work boot.

  Maddy’s boot.

  In a blink, I rematerialize, still on all fours, staring at the body of a crushed wharf rat on the pavement. Its long yellow teeth are sticking out and blood is dribbling from its shattered skull.

  The rest of the world slowly unfreezes. The rat is dead, but still twitching. The crowd backs away in disgust. A woman screams. A little boy spits up his milkshake. Maddy and Margo pull me up by my arms and hold on to me while I steady myself. I touch behind my neck. My fingers come back bloody. I’m breathing hard, feeling like I might collapse. I reach for Maddy.

  “Where were you? Did she hurt you?”

  “Who?” says Maddy.

  “The Destroyer!”

  Maddy shakes her head. “I saw the creature again,” says Maddy. “I followed him. Then I turned around and saw him shape-shift into a rat behind you.”

  I’m starting to understand why time manipulation was a forbidden power. It sometimes allowed evil forces to slip through. I also realize that it’s another way Maddy and I are connected. When the rest of the world stopped, the only ones moving were her and me. And a monster.

  “Lamont, look!” It hurts to raise my head. Maddy’s pointing toward the main pavilion, where the massive lighted crawl is running around the base of the structure. But instead of the usual news and fair announcements, there’s a personal message.

  It’s for me.

  … BONJOUR, LAMONT… THE KILLER WAS A SIMPLE DISTRACTION… EFFECTIVE, NO?… AU REVOIR…

  A message from the Destroyer, telling us that the World’s Fair killer was just a decoy, under her control the whole time. How is that possible? Unless her powers are beyond anything we’ve suspected. Beyond anything the world has ever seen.

  I turn to Margo, confused and panting. “Au revoir. That means good-bye, right?”

  “Not quite,” she says. “It means until we meet again.”

  I look at Margo and Maddy. I’m exhausted and in pain. But the night isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

  We’ve got a plane to catch.

  CHAPTER 86

  Orkhon Valley, Mongolia

  I’M STILL SORE from the rat fight, and my neck is covered with a bandage. I’m pretty sure the antitoxins in my blood protect me against rabies. But I’m taking the HDCV vaccine to be safe. Margo gave me the first dose last night. I was still a bit woozy when we boarded the military cargo plane. It was about five times wider than Tapper’s stealth jet, but just as uncomfortable. No matter. I slept the whole way.

  Diaz provided the flight to an abandoned Chinese black site, but nothing else. No backup. No equipment. No supplies. The plane would return to pick us up in twenty-four hours. “Talk to the locals,” Diaz told us, “and do what you do.” I guess that gives him plausible deniability if we get captured—or set off a nuclear explosion.

  Now we’re on horseback—me, Margo, and Maddy—heading up a steep slope covered with stubby grass and loose rock. I haven’t seen this kind of landscape for a long time. Not that it’s changed much. In fact, it feels eternal.

  I grew up riding Mongolian horses like this—short and sure-footed, with large heads and long manes. The last time Margo was in a saddle was probably at her country prep school. For Maddy, it’s the first time riding an animal—any animal—and it shows. She’s been complaining the whole way.

  “How much farther?” she whines. “I’m getting blisters on my butt!”

  “Over up there mountain,” our guide calls back. Batuhan is about sixteen, riding in the lead. His English is iffy, but he knows the area. We found him yesterday feeding horses in a small corral about a mile from our landing zone. For more cash than his family probably makes in a year, he agreed to lead us to the site Diaz identified. It’s been two hours since we started following him up an ancient goat trail. And I have no have no idea what we’ll find at the end of it.

  We’re on our own here, and totally out of touch with the rest of the world. No biosensor is going to register from six thousand miles away. No sense even trying. I asked Batuhan if he had a set of walkie-talkies. He was not familiar with the concept.

  The trail is getting more vertical. I’m clenching my thighs tight against my horse’s sweaty flanks. Margo is riding ahead of me, right behind Batuhan. I turn around to check on Maddy. She’s leaning forward and clutching her horse’s thick mane for dear life. She looks miserable.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just turned into horses?” she asks.

  Margo looks back, eyes flashing. “Easy for you two,” she says. “But some of us are stuck being human. So, no. I say we all suffer equally.” Fair enough.

  “Also,” I add, “horses aren’t that high on the intelligence chart. Right now, we need fully functioning homo sapiens brains.” I pat my horse on the neck. “No offense.”

  I considered doing this mission myself and sparing Maddy and Margo the discomfort. But I figure the combination of our powers gives us a better chance at success. Three sets of eyes are better than one. And if the Destroyer is really in New York, I feel better about having Maddy and Margo with me on the opposite side of the globe.

  The trail curls up and around a huge rock formation. Past the next turn, I can see smoke rising up against the afternoon sky. Batuhan turns around, smiling with bright teeth. “Camp!” he says. “Brothers!” He told us that we’d be meeting up with his three older siblings somewhere on the mountain. Fine with me. Couldn’t hurt to have a little more local perspective. And maybe some extra muscle.

  Batuhan uses his heels to nudge his horse into another gear. He looks up the trail and shouts out three words I don’t understand. His brothers’ names, I’m guessing.

  “Batuhan!” Maddy yells. “For God’s sake, slow down!” Margo hangs back to let her catch up. I move in front just as our guide disappears around a huge rock.

  A second of silence. A sharp scream.

  My adrenaline shoots up. I slide out of my saddle and pull Margo and Maddy to the ground. I motion for them to stay low. I creep forward toward the edge of the rock. I can hear Batuhan wailing from the other side.

  I come around the rock face. I’m in a small dirt clearing with a campfire smoldering in the center. Batuhan is on his knees next to a large boulder. I step forward and look over it. I see three sturdy Mongolian horses lying on their sides, jaws hanging open, not moving. Behind the animals, three young men.

  All dead.

  CHAPTER 87

  BATUHAN IS ROCKING back and forth on his knees, wailing his brothers’ names. Margo kneels beside him and wraps her arm gently around his shoulders. He leans against her, sobbing. “Yaagaad?!” he moans. Why?!

  I step slowly toward the bodies. When I hunted in these mountains, we were always told to watch for wolves. But wolves have been extinct for decades. Whatever killed these men didn’t leave a single mark. Their faces are contorted in horrid death grimaces, eyes open, staring toward the sky. But no drool or foam from their mouths. No stippling or discoloration of the skin. No footprints from intruders or evidence of a fight. Somehow, they just dropped where they were standing.

  “Lamont!” Maddy calls down in a loud whisper. She’s on top of a huge rock overlooking the campsite, crouching to keep her profile low. I find a foothold at the base of the craggy formation and make my way up until I’m on my belly beside her. In a few seconds, Margo crawls up on my left.

  Below us, hundreds of feet down, is a deep valley with a silvery river winding through it. On the far bank—totally out of place—is a huge three-story cement building with two large cones protruding from one side, belching steam. Nuclear exhaust stacks.

  Looks like we just found the bomb factory.

  Suddenly, I hear hooves pounding up the other side of the mountain. We all press our faces into the rock.

  Sounds like somebody just found us.

  CHAPTER 88

  I LIFT MY head and look down as a lone horseman comes over the crest from the other side of the mountain. He’s wearing a thick leather jacket and a fur hat. His right arm is crooked upward at a right angle. Fastened to his sleeve is a massive brown bird with a black hood over its head.

  A falcon.

  The man rides slowly across the clearing toward Batuhan. His horse skitters sideways at the sight of the dead animals. The raptor seems alert but calm. I can see its talons wrapped tight around the man’s leather gauntlet.

  Batuhan stands up slowly as the man approaches. It seems like they know each other. The three of us slide down the rock face and land feet-first on the dirt. I’m ready for anything. Batuhan confronts the rider in a wailing voice.

  He’s speaking Mongolian now. It’s not the same dialect I was taught, but I can pick up the gist: What happened here? What happened to my brothers?

  The falconer waves his left hand in a circle and points to the sky. His voice is rich and deep. It resonates in the still mountain air.

  Maddy elbows me. “What’s he saying?”