Zac woke up. That was the first shock. For a moment, he pondered his situation. He thought he was dead, but somehow he doubted the afterlife smelled of mold, mildew, dust and blood. Okay, blood maybe, but the rest? No, that just seemed wrong. Also he could feel shattered tile and rough concrete under his back and legs. He'd expect Heaven, Hell or Purgatory to at least be more well kept.

He pried one eye open slowly. Yeah, he was still in the mall. From the shelves he could see nearby he thought he might be in a storage room, or one of the abandoned stores. Hard to tell. It was pretty dim.

He heard a footstep, felt the warmth of a human body nearby. He tensed. Someone was standing over him. One of the Initiative madmen? Hadn't they done enough?

“I think it... I think he's awake,” said Alex.

Zac froze, barely daring to breathe. He seemed to be captive again; Alex's presence was proof enough of that.

“Touch him and I stab you,” said a soft, gentle feminine voice.

He knew that voice.

Skye!

Zac rolled towards the voices, struggled to his feet through a wave of nausea and vertigo. He would not allow those monsters to hurt the child! He wasn't sure why or how he still lived, and he doubted he had the strength to put up any real fight, but he could buy her time to escape. He could do that much.

Please, merciful creator give him that much strength.

Zac's somewhat uncoordinated attempt at attack ended up with him crashing in a tangled heap, bringing someone down with him. He thought it must be Alex, as the body was too large and solid to be Skye's tiny form, but it was impossible to tell because his vision was still foggy and the room was spinning.

“I swear, my hands are here,” a youthful, male voice piped up, “I am not touching him on purpose!”

“I can see that,” Skye said.

Zac fought to bring the world into some kind of sense. He braced his arms against the concrete floor, surprised when they held him. He was pretty sure he'd broken one of them. His left arm. It still ached, yes, but he could use it. Huh.

A hand rested against his shoulder. He froze. Another hand brushed his hair out of his face, clearing his vision slightly. He focused, and realized he was looking into pale gray eyes.

“How do you feel?” Skye asked, sitting back on her heels once she was sure she had his attention.

“I'm not certain,” Zac admitted.

Now that she asked, Zac had to actually consider how he felt. He wished he hadn't. Everything ached. His bones ached. He felt weak, shaking from the effort of just sitting up. He could feel every place the iron had touched, though the burn had faded to a manageable level. He could feel tenderness in his chest, where ribs had cracked and broken. He chewed his lower lip to keep the groan of pain internal.

“I'm sorry,” Skye said. “Living hurts. The dead feel no pain. I should have asked, which you'd prefer.”

He tried to smile for her. He was still confused.

“I thought...” he trailed off, looking at the other occupants of the room. He didn't want to have this conversation in front of them. There were only two: Alex, standing against the wall with his arms crossed and Jacob, against whose knees Zac currently leaned.

Realizing that, Zac tried to stand or at least sit up under his own power. Skye placed a gentle hand under his elbow and helped him to shift around until he rested against the wall. Jacob skittered away to stand next to Alex.

“Is he like a zombie or something?” Jacob asked.

“What?” Zac asked.

“He looked, like, really really dead. Before. I mean.” Jacob shrugged. “I mean, when Alex and I brought him in here, he was cold. And not breathing. Is he a zombie now or what?”

The boy sounded frightened of the idea. Zac sympathized. He reached a hand to his chest. He could feel his heart beating, faster than normal but present. He felt his chest rise and fall with each breath. But... he'd felt his heart stop. Had felt the final cold creep through his veins. He had not imagined that.

He looked at Skye, silently pleading for an answer.

Skye shook her head. “He's not a zombie.” She looked at Zac. “I promise. You're alive. Actually fully alive.”

Zac nodded. He'd believe her, mostly because he didn't have much desire to think of the alternatives.

“They carried me here?” he asked, incredulous.

“I didn't give them much choice,” Skye said with a shrug. “I'm strong enough to lift you but you're like a foot taller than me so I needed help.”

“Ah.”

Zac was just as glad he'd been... say unconscious... for that little event.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The back storage area of what used to be a clothing store, going by the creepy mannequins out front,” Skye said.

“Yeah, it's the mannequins that are creepy,” Alex muttered.

“What was that?” Skye's gentle voice turned to sharp ice.

“You heard me,” Alex said.

Skye moved as if to stand. Zac reached out and caught at her hand. He didn't want Alex to hurt her, and it was clear from his tone the man wanted a fight.

Skye glanced back at him and shrugged. “Okay, I'll give you that. I am pretty darn creepy.”

Zac relaxed back against the wall. Then, he looked around. He wondered why they'd chosen this tiny, cell like room to shelter in, and why the two Initiative members had been willing to bring him here. And why they seemed to be obeying Skye, or at least listening to her. And why and how she was here. She was dead, wasn't she?

No, she was Death. An actual, living host for one of the Aspects of Creation. Such beings were so rare, so precious, that even in his three hundred plus years of life Zac had only heard stories of people who had met one. Zac had so many questions to ask her! The things he could learn from her about the nature of life, death, magic, reality!

He should, however, consider waiting for those questions. There were more immediate concerns.

“What happened?” he asked. “To the slasher? I saw you fought it off but... surely that wasn't enough to destroy such a thing.”

“No,” Skye said, “I just damaged it a little,” she shrugged. “It'll be back.”

“Why?” Jacob wailed. “What does this thing want from us?”