CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
July 9, 2010
Evening
When Calvin returned, the pain pounced right back onto his chest and sank in its teeth where it had left off. Agony leaked from his present, stained his past, and seeped into his future, so that all he had ever been or ever would be was a lump of icy torment.
He was receding, shrinking, unbecoming. Calvin felt three lines of rope tied to him, a sensation that reminded him of what he’d felt when he’d first used the door, and again when Hawke and Cleo had used it, but he couldn’t clear his vision. Nothing worked properly except his pain receptors.
He mentally groped his way down the first line. The rope twisted as someone kicked and spun on its end, screaming with closed lips. Cleo. Martin absorbed her thrashing against his chest.
Calvin snatched
