Michael wasn’t sure he could stand, but he boosted himself to his feet, groaning in agony. The dark-cloaked KillSims surrounded them.

“I don’t have a weapon,” Michael said through clenched teeth.

“Then use your hands. Don’t make me regret making you a part of my fut—”

Two creatures flew at them before he could finish. Kaine swung so fast, the breeze swept Michael’s hair when the wood connected with the monster’s face. There was a crunch of teeth and a gritty cloud of black mist as the creature disintegrated. There seemed to be no sense to what these things were made of.

Michael barely had time to get his hands up before the other KillSim was on him. He grabbed the edges of its mouth and spun his body, throwing the creature with all his strength. It let out a loud squeal and clamped its mouth shut at the last second, almost catching Michael’s fingers. But it worked. The thing landed on the ground twenty feet away.

Something grabbed him from behind, lifting him by the shirt. Kaine swung at it and missed, the end of the stick grazing Michael’s skin. He vaulted into the air, thrown once again, up and up until he smacked into a thick branch. He quickly wrapped his arms around it before he could fall to the ground.

Kaine stood below, swinging his weapon like a deranged batter. He’d connect with one phantom and two more would be on him. But somehow he stayed on his feet, spinning and ducking as he continued to bat away the monsters. Michael saw another KillSim—maybe the one that had just thrown him into the tree—gazing at him with an eyeless face, mouth opening wide. Then it flew at Michael.

He dropped to the next branch, then the next one, leaping recklessly toward the forest floor. The creature launched itself after him, weaving in and out of the tree limbs. Michael jumped down the last ten feet, landing in a roll. He scrambled back to his feet and started running, but stopped when he saw something so unexpected he forgot for a split second what was chasing him.

Just a dozen or so feet away, three Auras stood beside a tree, looking back at him.

Bryson, Helga, and Gabby.

3

The chaos continued, only now with pieces of conversation amid the madness.

“Why’d you leave us?” Bryson yelled at him, his face transformed by anger.

Michael was about to explain when another KillSim grabbed him by the shirt, yanked him into the air. Draped in filmy darkness, they rose, crashing through branches and leaves. Michael’s skin was bloody with scratches, and stung with every new one. He tried to fight the KillSim, but the creature had him in a tight grip, spinning as they rocketed toward the sky.