"Glenn! Glenny! Wake up!"
Glenn opened her eyes and bolted upright. She was in
bed, twisted up in her sheets, Hopkins beside her. A form teetered
above, a huge shadow in the dark room.
"It works, Glenny," he said, panting, his voice tripping
with amazement. "It actually works."
Glenn rubbed her eyes. "What are you talking about? What
works? What time is it?"
"Get dressed and come see."
Her father leaned into a shaft of moonlight. Glenn
jerked away without thinking and gasped. His hair was disheveled,
his clothes stained with oil and soot. There was a long gash on his
arm. Hopkins reared back and hissed as Dad reached down and grabbed
Glenn by her shoulders.
"We''re really going to do it, Glenn."
"What are you talking about? Do what?"
He kneeled down beside her. His skin was sweaty and
pale, ghastly, like a melting candle.
"We''re going to get her back," he said. His eyes were
swollen and red and had a wild, unhinged look about them. "We''re
going to march right over there and bring her back."
"Go where? Get who back?"
Her Dad paused. He looked terrified and exhilarated at
the same time.
"Your mom," he said, his voice trembling. "We''re going
to rescue her."
It was like a fist slamming into Glenn''s chest. Her
"Rescue her from what?"