Chapter 22 · Untitled Chapter

The thing on Jonah’s phone lifted its head.

It had Jonah’s face.

Not kind of. Not close enough to make my stomach drop. His face. Same crooked nose from when he crashed his bike into a mailbox at twelve. Same little scar under his chin. Same chipped black nail polish because he kept pretending he didn’t care what people thought.

Only this Jonah was tied to a chair with silver chain wrapped around his throat.

Blood ran down one side of his face.

The real Jonah stood three feet from me, staring at the screen like somebody had reached into his chest and pulled out a piece he didn’t know was there.

“What the hell,” he whispered.

On the phone, shadow slid over the other Jonah’s shoulders.

Not smoke. Not darkness.

Hands.

Too many long black hands, reaching out from behind the chair.

“Put the seal through the gate,” the man’s voice said from the speakers. “Or I start taking pieces off him.