Infernal Devices

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At first there was nothing. Then came a spark, a sizzling sound that stirred frayed webs of dream and memory. And then—with a crackle, a roar—a blue-white rush of electricity was surging through him, bursting into the dry passages of his brain like the tide pouring back into a sea cave. His body jerked so taut that for a moment he was balanced only on his heels and the back of his armored skull. He screamed, and awoke to a sleet of static, and a falling feeling.

He remembered dying. He remembered a girl’s scarred face gazing down at him as he lay in wet grass. She was someone important, someone he cared about more than any Stalker should care about anything, and there had been something he had wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. Now there was only the afterimage of her ruined face. What was her name? His mouth remembered.

“H…”

“It’s alive!” said a voice.

“HES…”

“Again, please. Quickly.”

“Charging…”

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