Chapter 92

Chapter 92

HE KNOWS, SHE thought. He knows it was me.

She felt as she had felt back in the tunnel, the world peeled away like a mask to reveal a horror that had no words, dead girls indistinguishable from abandoned dolls. Quickly she pushed aside the jacket and stuck her hand into a pocket of the trousers that hung beneath it.

Inside was a first-class train ticket for the Capitol Limited, departing that night at eleven-fifteen from Chicago’s Grand Central Station and bound for Washington, D.C., along with a chit for a trunk being held at the station. She began to stuff the tickets into her pocket, then remembered she had no pocket.

And it would be stupid to take the tickets. He’d discover they were missing and flee immediately. And Max would be too clever to hop on the train. She and Henry would lose their chance. She stuffed the tickets back into the trouser pocket and slipped outside.

Girl or not, she broke into a run. In the near distance, the huge devil embraced the Hell Gate pavilion, leering in the floodlights. The line stretched almost all the way to Fairyland. A bolt of lightning flared across the horizon, and for a second illuminated a small figure standing atop the knoll. Henry. As she started up the hill, the small figure waved at her excitedly.

Idiot! What if someone saw him? If anyone looked up, they’d spot a man on top of the rise, gesturing like a lunatic. Lightning pulsed like the flash pots inside Hell Gate as she joined Henry where he stood, feinting at invisible attackers.

“Henry, no!” She tried to grab his arm. “Stop! It’s me—”

He froze and gaped at her. “Pin?” he said.

Chapter 93

Chapter 93

HAD THE BOY forgotten? He’d been here for fifteen minutes, no, longer, twenty minutes at least, that damned clock! Damn the clock, damn the boy, he should have followed him! Stuck him with the knife, pushed him down the stairs and stabbed—

Oh, there he was.

Henry waved at the brave boy scrambling up the hill. See, I am here, General Evans! Just as you ordered, awaiting your commands! His sword flashed through the air: together they would defeat their enemy!

“Henry, no!” Someone grabbed his arm. “Stop, it’s me—goddamn it, Henry, stop.” Pin’s voice, but it wasn’t Pin. His hand dropped to his side.

“Pin?”

A girl stood in front of him. Pin’s height and skinny like Pin, but with yellow hair and a big blue bow, wearing a sailor blouse and skirt and clutching something to her breast. What the hell was she doing here?

“Are you lost?” he demanded.

The girl stared at Henry. Her anger gave way to a grin.

“It’s me,” she said. “Pin. This is the rest of the plan. I’m in disguise.”