enormous concrete shell of a room. Strobe lights strung from the ceiling were flashing pink, red and green over the pulsating crowd below. The entire floor space looked like a heaving sea of hurricane debris – green gyrating bodies forming a mass in the centre around which a five-metre radius of empty dance floor had opened up.
Running along one wall, with a crowd three deep pushing against it, was a makeshift bar. The bar staff behind were shimmering like heat mirages as they flipped bottles and slapped drinks and change down onto the counter.
Evie scanned the crowd immediately below her, spotting three or four famous faces, whether Shapeshifters or the real thing she couldn’t tell. Over in one corner was a small group of pale-looking kids. They were noticeable because they were the only people not moving in the entire place – they were just standing there rigid, dressed in an assortment of questionable clothing. Only their eyes were moving, roving across the crowd as if searching for something. Or someone? Evie could make out the pinprick irises of the girl closest to her and then the flicker as a tongue darted out and licked a pointed incisor. She gripped Issa’s hand. ‘What are they doing in here?’
Issa followed her gaze. ‘Thirsters are allowed in too. So long as they abide by the rules.’
‘The rules?’
‘Yes. No eating on the dance floor. Or anywhere else for that matter.’
‘But they look like big cats eying up the impalas at the watering hole.’
‘They won’t dare,’ Issa said, nodding up at the ceiling. Evie glanced upwards. Hanging from the beams above them were rows of industrial-sized stage lights.
‘UV?’ Evie asked.
‘Yes,’ Issa nodded. ‘For emergencies. The way things are playing out I think they’re going to be used tonight.’
‘Where’s Lucas?’ Evie asked. She scanned the crowd again trying to see him or sense him, but with the flashing lights and all the unhumans it was impossible to feel anything other than the icy drip of terror coagulating in her veins.
‘He’s down there somewhere,’ Issa answered. ‘It’s OK,’ she added. ‘In about two minutes Flic’s going to start a fight with that boy over there.’ She jerked her chin in the direction of the Thirsters on the edge of the dance floor. ‘And Lucas is going to end it.’
Evie turned her head. Issa was pointing at a wiry boy with auburn hair and a pointy chin, dressed in a grubby tank top and skinny leather trousers. All of a sudden Evie’s attention was caught by something else, something far more alarming than the group of Thirsters below them. ‘Oh my God!’ she cried out.
Flic, who was standing on her other side, whipped around, her mouth twisted in a snarl.
‘I’m on the wall,’ Evie said, pointing with a trembling hand to the wall behind Flic.
‘Jesus!’ Flic swore as she spun back around and looked in the direction Evie was pointing. ‘I told Lucas we shouldn’t bring her here!’
‘Why am I on the wall?’ Evie asked, trying not to panic at the sight of her face projected ten metres high onto the warehouse wall.
As she watched, the image dissolved in a cheap slideshow effect of snowflakes and, pixel by pixel, a brand new image formed over the top. This time Lucas was staring out at them, his face twenty metres wide, his dark-grey eyes seeming to burn a hole right through her. Evie registered in some recess of her mind that several people had started whooping on the dance floor below. The image of Lucas fuzzed out and dancing psychedelic swirling hearts appeared in its place. At the same time the thumping house track that had been playing scratched to a stop and a new track started up – a souped-up version of a Celine Dion song. The dance floor went wild. Evie shut her eyes and tried to wake up. When she opened them she saw the psychedelic hearts were no longer swirling. Now they were bleeding, raining great crimson drops, which together with the red strobe effect that had
Running along one wall, with a crowd three deep pushing against it, was a makeshift bar. The bar staff behind were shimmering like heat mirages as they flipped bottles and slapped drinks and change down onto the counter.
Evie scanned the crowd immediately below her, spotting three or four famous faces, whether Shapeshifters or the real thing she couldn’t tell. Over in one corner was a small group of pale-looking kids. They were noticeable because they were the only people not moving in the entire place – they were just standing there rigid, dressed in an assortment of questionable clothing. Only their eyes were moving, roving across the crowd as if searching for something. Or someone? Evie could make out the pinprick irises of the girl closest to her and then the flicker as a tongue darted out and licked a pointed incisor. She gripped Issa’s hand. ‘What are they doing in here?’
Issa followed her gaze. ‘Thirsters are allowed in too. So long as they abide by the rules.’
‘The rules?’
‘Yes. No eating on the dance floor. Or anywhere else for that matter.’
‘But they look like big cats eying up the impalas at the watering hole.’
‘They won’t dare,’ Issa said, nodding up at the ceiling. Evie glanced upwards. Hanging from the beams above them were rows of industrial-sized stage lights.
‘UV?’ Evie asked.
‘Yes,’ Issa nodded. ‘For emergencies. The way things are playing out I think they’re going to be used tonight.’
‘Where’s Lucas?’ Evie asked. She scanned the crowd again trying to see him or sense him, but with the flashing lights and all the unhumans it was impossible to feel anything other than the icy drip of terror coagulating in her veins.
‘He’s down there somewhere,’ Issa answered. ‘It’s OK,’ she added. ‘In about two minutes Flic’s going to start a fight with that boy over there.’ She jerked her chin in the direction of the Thirsters on the edge of the dance floor. ‘And Lucas is going to end it.’
Evie turned her head. Issa was pointing at a wiry boy with auburn hair and a pointy chin, dressed in a grubby tank top and skinny leather trousers. All of a sudden Evie’s attention was caught by something else, something far more alarming than the group of Thirsters below them. ‘Oh my God!’ she cried out.
Flic, who was standing on her other side, whipped around, her mouth twisted in a snarl.
‘I’m on the wall,’ Evie said, pointing with a trembling hand to the wall behind Flic.
‘Jesus!’ Flic swore as she spun back around and looked in the direction Evie was pointing. ‘I told Lucas we shouldn’t bring her here!’
‘Why am I on the wall?’ Evie asked, trying not to panic at the sight of her face projected ten metres high onto the warehouse wall.
As she watched, the image dissolved in a cheap slideshow effect of snowflakes and, pixel by pixel, a brand new image formed over the top. This time Lucas was staring out at them, his face twenty metres wide, his dark-grey eyes seeming to burn a hole right through her. Evie registered in some recess of her mind that several people had started whooping on the dance floor below. The image of Lucas fuzzed out and dancing psychedelic swirling hearts appeared in its place. At the same time the thumping house track that had been playing scratched to a stop and a new track started up – a souped-up version of a Celine Dion song. The dance floor went wild. Evie shut her eyes and tried to wake up. When she opened them she saw the psychedelic hearts were no longer swirling. Now they were bleeding, raining great crimson drops, which together with the red strobe effect that had
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