When the dust finally settles, I see Gnat’s limp body lying on a large pile of rubble, motionless, his head tilted backward, eyes closed. The corridor around him has transformed into a cratered landscape of dirt, bricks, and mortar. Most tiles have been yanked from the floor—some miraculously unscathed, others broken or pulverized. Some have torn large chunks out of the walls or punctured holes in the ceiling. In some spots, I can even see the floor above.
Gnat himself looks as devastated as the corridor. The taste of bile fills my mouth. His right leg is twisted at an unnatural angle, and most of his clothes are torn to shreds. Where his skin is visible, it’s bruised black and blue. Blood streams down his leg, and his t-shirt is quickly turning red, soaking through alarmingly fast. But worst of all is his head. It hangs limply toward me, one eye swollen shut. His other open eye, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. A trail of spit trickles from the corner of his mouth, darkening the dust on his face.
The only thing still moving is his mouth. I lean forward, straining to hear his mumbled words. Maybe there's a whispered clue—something that might help me help him—but his voice is too soft, and the semi-transparent wall muffles all sound from the other side. Next to me, Jack's gaze is also fixed on the horrific scene, his face nearly as pale as Gnat's. I wonder if I should shield him from this potentially traumatizing experience; he's only nine. But then... he speaks.
“I know what he’s saying. I can read lips.” Hope stabs me right in the chest. I don’t even question how on earth he learned this; instead, I find myself yelling, louder than necessary.
“What is he saying, Jack? Tell me! Maybe we can help him.” Jack looks at me with big, uncertain eyes.
“One thing. He’s saying it over and over.”
“What, Jack? What?!”
“A name... Your name. Max, Max, Max, over and over again.” My mouth suddenly goes bone dry. Behind me, Balthazar giggles nervously.
I glance at my broken friend–his fancy, posh clothes, completely destroyed. He moves! Only a few millimeters, but enough to show he has some life in him yet. Relief surges through me, but it doesn’t last long. At his feet, the rubble begins vibrating softly. A massive shadow falls over him. Even reduced by the milky, translucent wall, Fred’s booming voice reaches me loud and clear.
“So, you little insect, it took a bit longer than expected, but here we are.” Gnat’s only open eye slowly regains focus, scanning his surroundings—not for Fred, but for something else. Something to help him, maybe… a weapon—there! I see it now too. He stretches his arm, pushing himself on with his good leg: an electrical socket, torn from the wall, just outside his reach. Only a few centimeters more, and he’ll be able to recharge himself. Excruciatingly slow, he inches closer. One finger is almost in; the second finger nearly—but then his hand abruptly jerks upward at a strange angle. I hear the sharp, dry snap of his arm breaking just below the elbow as Fred’s heavy boot slams down on it. Gnat doesn’t even scream.
“Did you think I’m stupid?” he hollers. “Did you think I wouldn’t be better prepared this time? No electricity for you, firefly. Nothing for you, ever again. Your life ends here. It’s been short and violent, especially the end.”
I start shouting. That Neanderthal is about to do something horrific—I have to save him. But how? I pound on the semi-transparent barrier, which feels strangely rubbery but refuses to give. Against my better judgment, I keep pounding, harder and harder. When that still doesn’t work, I step back and hurl myself against it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jack join me. On his first attempt, he bounces back so hard that he falls to the ground, hurting his arm. He’ll survive, I think, as I launch myself at the barrier once more.
“Hihihihihi, can’t be done, can’t be done,” Balthazar squeaks–his voice laced with panic now. He has to shut up, I think, and he has to shut up right now. I know it can’t be done, he made that very clear. Some fundamental, ironclad, unbreakable law of nature, and still, I accelerate—again and then again. Stubborn, hard headed, obstinate, angry, furious. For Gnat. To save his life. Harder and harder. Everything hurts now. Blood pounding, sweat pouring, gasping for breath. But it’s still not working.
Desperate, I scream, channeling all the anger, frustration, and powerlessness built up inside me—a deafening, futile, pointless scream. It’s no use. Time is running out. By now, Fred’s enormous boot hovers menacingly above Gnat’s battered head. Broken Gnat. Annihilated Gnat. A broken arm, a broken leg, holes scattered across his fragile body, blood everywhere.
And still… he doesn’t look afraid. He lifts his head, looking defiantly at Fred. Stubborn and unyielding to the end, though it won’t save him. Any moment now, Fred’s foot will come down.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I scream again. And then, Gnat turns his head toward me—as if he finally hears me through the invisible wall. A faint smile appears on his battered face. His lips form a word. I realize he’s saying my name once again when he closes his eyes, a smile still on his face.
“WHAT’S SO FUNNY?” Fred roars, following his gaze but seeing nothing. “What are you playing at? Are you messing with me? I’ve had enough of you. It ends here and now.” He raises his foot a little higher.
My mind races. Gnat knows I’m here; I’m his friend. He trusts me. I can’t let this happen. And suddenly, with unwavering certainty, I know that it won’t. I actually won’t let it. Maybe it’s because I’ve exhausted all my energy. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally dropped all pretense. Maybe I’ve finally reached that place within myself that loves more than it hates.
Silence fills me, like water fills a bottle. It’s not that I don’t hear anything anymore; rather, every sound becomes as sharply defined as a jewel. In between them, there’s nothing—no buzz, no hiss, no white noise, no ego, no doubt. I hear everything in high definition while everything around me slows down.
I look around, wondering if Slug is hiding somewhere behind us. But no—it’s still just the three of us. Jack’s still nursing his arm. Balthazar floating behind him, eyes wide open, yet keeping his promise not to interfere. This is all my doing. I don’t know how and why, but I know it’s true, and I’m the only one who can make this right.
A small fire ignites inside me and as if silence is its oxygen, within seconds, flames surge through my body, burning away all the nonsense, turmoil and panic, cleansing me. When I take a step back one last time and storm forward, I do so with such inner conviction that I break through the barrier as if it’s not even there, crashing full speed into Fred.
Immediately, the sound is back—or rather, the silence is gone. Everything speeds up. No heightened senses anymore. Fred looks around, utterly bewildered. My fire is extinguished, but not before I set one of his pant legs on fire. Cursing and ranting, he tries to put it out.
Making use of the diversion, I drop to my knees beside Gnat. Though he looks even weaker than before, a faint crooked smile lingers on his face as he whispers to me.
“You took your time, Tinderstick. Were you doing your hair?” I growl. There are so many options to shoot back, that I decide to let it go. I shrug and get to work. Worried it might break off completely, I grab the arm Fred just broke. “This is going to hurt, mosquito,” I mumble, giving it a tug before pressing two fingers firmly into the holes of the electrical socket. Wham! I’m thrown back forcefully when 220 volts surge through my body.
I can’t have been out for more than a few seconds, but when I open my eyes again, everything has changed. A deafening, horrifying scream fills the corridor. As my vision clears, a mix of relief and disgust floods me. Relief, because it’s not Gnat who’s screaming. Disgust, because it’s Fred. He is suspended midair, convulsing and twitching in agony, trapped in some sort of lightning cage. Though his trousers are no longer burning, smoke still rises from him.
Gnat lifts himself halfway upright, leaning on his one unharmed arm, sparks flying from him, a long, venomous hiss escaping from between his swollen, bloodied lips. Though he still looks completely destroyed, he resembles in nothing the defeated boy he was only moments ago. He is, in every sense, charged with anger and hate.
Fred struggles to free himself, but he doesn’t stand a chance. I glance from Gnat to Fred and back again. I don’t like the look on Gnat’s face at all. The madness blazing in his eyes reveals only one thing: he won’t be able to stop himself.
“I’ll blow your fuses, caveman,” he hisses, and in that moment, I realize he doesn’t want to stop; he won’t even try. He wants to hurt someone—badly. He wants to see blood.
“Don’t do it, Charles. You’ll regret this.” I hope, perhaps naively, that using his real name will help me get through to him, but it doesn’t. Fred’s eyes turn away, more smoke rising from his body. His moans are growing weaker. It’s time for desperate measures. I spot a large wooden beam sticking out of a pile of rubble. With all my strength, I lift it with both hands and start charging forward, like a knight with a battering ram storming a castle—only way way slower. Still, I manage to hit Gnat just hard enough to knock him over. He screams when he falls back onto his broken arm. It works. Right away the bolts of lightning scatter and the cage falls apart.
Fred hits the ground hard and crawls away, but I don’t care about that now; I need to know if my friend is still alive. He is.
“Damn it, Firehead. I had him. I totally had him.” Although he sounds as venomous as ever, there’s a frightening weakness in his voice.
“You would have killed him, you stupid fuck, and you would’ve regretted it for the rest of your life.”
“Don’t think so.”
“Yes, you would.”
He looks me straight in the eyes, but I don’t blink. The stare-off feels like it lasts for minutes, but he’s the first to look away.
“Maybe…”
“For sure!” I shoot back, with more fury than I intended.
“Alright, for sure then. But don’t think I’m going to thank you. I...” Then, his eyes roll back, and his body starts to sink to the ground. I catch his head just before it hits the ground. His voice is barely a whisper now. “I’m not sure if I will make it, Sulphurhead... Pain.” And then he loses consciousness.
I look around, but there’s no one to help me. I glance at the fading, semi-transparent barrier and see Jack—my nine-year-old father—and Balthazar, both looking stunned. I know, breaking through that barrier should have been impossible. I gesture apologetically; I have to stay here—I have no other choice. I wave one last time to Jack before the barrier fades away.
Gnat’s moan snaps me back to reality. I need help, but where can I find that in the middle of the night? Only one desperate option comes to mind. Maybe, just maybe... “WILLIAMS!” I shout.
“Well, Miss Kwintens, you’ve been busy. Breaking into the school… twice, destroying part of it, and breaking a law of nature in the process? That’s at least two weeks’ worth of chores, don’t you think?”
I whip my head around so fast I nearly strain my neck. There he stands right beside me, materialized out of thin air, beamed up Star Trek style. The deep wrinkles around his eyes crease into a smile, though I can’t understand how he can find humor in this situation. To my horror he doesn’t even look at Gnat—his focus is fixed solely on the spot where Balthazar and my father vanished only moments ago, as if he can still see them.
“You have to help Gnat… Charles, I mean… He’s dying!” But when Williams finally turns to me, he radiates so much authority, that it silences me instantly.
“You can calm down, Miss Kwintens. I’m fully aware of how serious the situation is.” Only then do his eyes shift to Gnat, who is breathing shallowly and irregularly. He observes him without bending down or touching him.
“I think you did your hot-headed friend a great favor, Miss Kwintens.”
“Well… I couldn’t just leave him here without trying to help,” I mumble. But he interrupts me, using my first name for the first time.
“Not that, Max, not that. With that rescue attempt, you may have caused more damage than we can repair. I mean, by preventing Mr. Monteque from taking his revenge on Mr. Pugno. There are universal laws, you know—or to put it in more spiritual terms, you saved his soul.” His gaze becomes unfocused, as if he’s performing an incredibly complex calculation. Then, as though reaching a decision, he springs into action.
“Enough philosophy for now. It is what it is, as the wise man says.” Only now he kneels and moves his right hand slowly over Gnat’s lifeless body without touching it. To my surprise and relief, I see that the large red spot on his shirt stops spreading and the blood from his head stops flowing. A hint of color returns to his face—but it’s not enough, not nearly enough. He needs to do more, but to my dismay, he rises from the floor and stretches his back.
“My power, though pretty impressive if I say so myself, only gets us this far, Miss Kwintens. I can patch him up just enough to keep him alive for now, but he won’t survive another two hours without real help. There’s only one man who might be able to save him.”
“Who is it?” I shout. “Doctors have the Hippocratic oath or something, right? They can’t refuse; they have to help.”
"That’s the whole problem, Max. If we knew where he was, things wouldn’t be such a mess right now. Come, I’ll take you both to the science classroom before all hell breaks loose. Miss G’nodoa and Mr. Stanislaw are already there. Hurry now. The building is being breached from multiple sides, and we’re quite outnumbered.”
“No!” I reply defiantly. “First, we need to find the person who can save Gnat. I’m not going anywhere until we do.” I look up stubbornly at the old man, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was smiling. A sad melancholy smile. But then, without another word, he lifts Gnat carefully from the ground, drapes him over his shoulder.
“That’s exactly why I’m taking you there, Miss Kwintens. It’s the only place you might have a chance of finding the person who can help Mr. Monteque, simply because it’s Mr. Kwant.”
My heart stops. My hope evaporates. We’re truly lost. How many times have we been in that room? How many times have we searched it and found nothing? Why would we succeed now?
“Gnat is lost. We are lost,” I stammer, as Williams pulls me along effortlessly now that I’ve given up resisting.
“Nothing is lost, Miss Kwintens. It’s only lost when you think it is.”
“Proverbs and sayings. You sound like... GRAN!?” I shout the last word in surprise.
“Sweetie! There you are. You stupid, brave, incredible girl.”
“The plant that doesn’t get water will never grow,” laughs Williams.
“You’re so right,” she laughs, but then I hear a third voice... in my head.
“We need to hurry, William. They’re almost here.”
“Miss Bleach?” escapes me, completely taken by surprise.
“You’ll have plenty of time to be surprised once you’re inside that classroom.” Only now do I see her standing in the shadows behind Gran, together with... that journalist Porkchops? What kind of traveling circus is this?
“Yes you are right Marianne,” Gran agrees while bending forward to kiss me. I’m even too dumbfounded to pull away as I normally would.
“Go on, girl. You can do this. We all know you can,” she whispers in my ear.
“Now!” Miss Bleach urges, even more insistently. “No time for goodbyes. Open the door, Max. We can’t.”
Williams leads me to the door, with Gnat still hanging limply in his arms. When I place my hand on the handle I hear the familiar mechanical click as the door gives way. Williams gently places Gnat’s alarmingly light body into my arms and gives me a small push.
Inside, it’s pitch dark. Shadow’s already here. As I step over the threshold, I glance back one last time, only now registering the growing noise of destruction. Metal rails, usually lined with coats and bags, fly through the air, propelled by an unseen force. Gran, Williams, and Miss Bleach form a small circle around the trembling journalist, and when I hear a wolf howling, I slam the door shut behind me, which locks with a dry mechanical click.