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Back The Dying of the Light
Chapters (115)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Table of Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. 80
  86. 81
  87. 82
  88. 83
  89. 84
  90. 85
  91. 86
  92. 87
  93. 88
  94. 89
  95. 90
  96. 91
  97. 92
  98. 93
  99. 94
  100. 95
  101. 96
  102. 97
  103. 98
  104. 99
  105. 100
  106. 101
  107. 102
  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. Also by Derek Landy
  115. About the Publisher

The Cadillac stops. The engine cuts off, taking the music with it. Car doors open. Danny waits. There’s some muffled talking, then footsteps. A rattle and click and the trunk opens. Danny curls up tighter, like a flower shrinking from sudden cold, hands over his eyes to shield them from the light. Metal tightens over his wrists. Handcuffs.

“Out,” says Jeremiah.

Blinking madly, Danny moves his aching bones. He’s sore and tired and cold and he reeks. His left shoulder is throbbing and his right ankle is swollen. He’s thirsty and his stomach is empty. He manages to get one leg out and clambers awkwardly from the trunk. They’re on a residential street. It’s the middle of the day, but it’s quiet. No one around to see him. He could shout for help, but he doesn’t bother. Gant would have thought of that. Jeremiah would be ready for it.

One side of the street is practically identical to the other. All big colonial houses, with lots of space in between. Jeremiah marches Danny ahead of him, and they follow Gant up the steps to number 4. Gant twists a key in the lock and walks through, then Jeremiah pushes Danny so that he stumbles in after him, and Danny pitches straight into hell.

The heat is the first thing to hit – so powerful it makes Danny close his eyes and turn his head. He tries to back out, but Jeremiah is behind him, already shutting the door. He can hear water, flowing and boiling, and behind that he hears screams. People are screaming. He cracks his eyes open, and fright tears through him.

He’s on a metal walkway, a bridge suspended by chains above a lake of liquid fire. His surroundings are impossible. The inside of this colonial house is a church so vast he can’t see the top. There are bridges above him, and ceilings and walkways, but they are impossibly high, and the twisted architecture vanishes into darkness, punctuated only by small patches of distant light.

Gant is halfway across the bridge. Jeremiah gives Danny a shove. Danny reaches out for the thin railing to stop himself from going over, but it burns his fingers and he hisses, clutching his hands close to his chest. He limps quickly after Gant, away from Jeremiah. The heat is oppressive. His shirt is already drenched with sweat. The screaming continues.