Library of Souls Read Online Free PDF Page A

to do was search it.
    It came to a stop and people began filing on board, though not into our car. I risked a peek through the open doors and saw one of the wights down the platform, speed walking in our direction as he eyeballed each car.
    â€œOne’s coming this way,” I muttered. “How’s your fire, Em?”
    â€œRunning on empty,” she replied.
    He was getting close. Four cars away. Three.
    â€œThen get ready to run.”
    Two cars away. Then a soft, recorded voice: “Mind the closing doors, please.”
    â€œHold the train!” the wight shouted. But the doors were already closing.
    He stuck an arm through. The doors bounced open again. He got on board—into the car next to ours.
    My eyes went to the door that connected our cars. It was locked with a chain—thank God for small mercies. The doors snicked shut and the train began to move. We shifted the folding man onto the floor and huddled with him in a spot where we couldn’t be seen from the wight’s car.
    â€œWhat can we do?” said Emma. “The moment this train stops again, he’ll come straight in here and find us.”
    â€œAre we absolutely certain he’s a wight?” asked Addison.
    â€œDo cats grow on trees?” Emma replied.
    â€œNot in this part of the world.”
    â€œThen of course we aren’t. But when it comes to wights, there’s an old saying: if you’re not sure, assume.”
    â€œOkay, then,” I said. “The second those doors open, we run for the exit.”
    Addison sighed. “All this
fleeing
,” he said disdainfully, as ifhe were a gourmand and someone had offered him a limp square of American cheese. “There’s no imagination in it. Mightn’t we try
sneaking?
Blending in? There’s artistry in that. Then we could simply walk away, gracefully, unnoticed.”
    â€œI hate fleeing as much as anyone,” I said, “but Emma and I look like nineteenth-century axe murderers, and you’re a dog who wears glasses. We’re bound to be noticed.”
    â€œUntil they start manufacturing canine contact lenses, I’m stuck with these,” Addison grumbled.
    â€œWhere’s that hollowgast when you need him?” said Emma offhandedly.
    â€œRun over by a train, if we’re lucky,” I said. “And what do you mean by that?”
    â€œOnly that he came in quite handy earlier.”
    â€œAnd before that he nearly killed us—twice! No, three times! Whatever it is I’ve been doing to control it has been half by accident, and the moment I’m
not
able to? We’re dead.”
    Emma didn’t respond right away, but studied me for a moment and then took my hand, all caked in grime, and kissed it gently, once, twice.
    â€œWhat was that for?” I said, surprised.
    â€œYou have no idea, do you?”
    â€œOf what?”
    â€œHow completely miraculous you are.”
    Addison groaned.
    â€œYou have an amazing talent,” Emma whispered. “I’m certain all you need is a little practice.”
    â€œMaybe. But practicing something usually means failing at it for a while, and failing at this means people get killed.”
    Emma squeezed my hand. “Well, there’s nothing like a little pressure to help you hone a new skill.”
    I tried to smile but couldn’t muster one. My heart hurt too much at the thought of all the damage I could cause. This thing Icould do felt like a loaded weapon I didn’t know how to use. Hell, I didn’t even know which end to point away from me. Better to set it down than have it blow up in my hands.
    We heard a noise at the other end of the car and looked up to see the door opening. That one wasn’t chained, and now a pair of leather-clad teenagers stumbled into our car, a boy and a girl, laughing and passing a lit cigarette between them.
    â€œWe’ll get in trouble!” the girl said, kissing his neck.
    The boy brushed a