Chapter 7 · Shadows Don't Behave

"Mark." Amy's voice came out flat. Professional. The voice she used right before she called a code. "We need to get everyone out."

Mark was still staring at Daniel's hand, at the faint blue-white glow that shouldn't exist. He'd seen it. He knew he'd seen it. His burned palm was already starting to ache in response, that phantom heat he got whenever something from over there showed up.

"What—"

"Now."

Daniel looked down. His shadow had peeled completely off the floor. It stood upright next to him, a flat black cutout that didn't match his posture at all. His real body was leaning forward, hands on his knees. The shadow stood at attention.

Military posture.

"Oh," Daniel said quietly. "That's not good."

Lucas was already moving toward the door. Smart kid. Mark didn't trust him but he had to give him that—Lucas had good instincts for when things were about to go sideways.

The shadow turned its head.

Mark's stomach dropped. Shadows don't have heads. They're projections, flat shapes cast by light and body. They don't turn to look at you.

This one did.

"Amy, don't—"

The shadow lunged.

Not at Lucas.