Bum-Puzzled Lady_ "Oh, it's you," the woman said. She squinted at Max as if he were a long-lost friend. Max smiled at her and then realized she hadn't seen the black-haired man walking behind him. "Ah, yes," Max said. "It's me, all right." The woman seemed to relax, and Max looked at the dark-haired man. He wasn't as close to the entrance as he was a moment ago, and he seemed to be having some trouble moving his legs. He lurched forward, holding his hands out in front of him like a child who is afraid to get his pants wet. "Hey!" a woman's voice called from inside the station. "Who's out there? What do you think you're doing?" The voice sounded familiar, like maybe Max had met her before, but he couldn't be sure. She didn't sound familiar to him, though, or else he just couldn't recognize her. The dark-haired man stumbled, and the woman at the door started running forward. Max didn't think that was such a good idea; he'd seen how quick she was. The light-haired woman was nowhere to be seen. "I was . . . I . . ." Max's voice trailed off. His heart started beating so loudly he could hear it, too. "I don't know what you were," Max said. "Come on now. Let's get out of here." He stepped forward as the woman struggled to move her legs. Her right leg was bent at an odd angle and her left one seemed just as awkward. Max took a step, and the woman lurched toward him, but her leg gave out and she went crashing to the ground, Max's arms flying out to catch her weight. She yelped, her head slamming into Max's chest, but he kept his arms where they were and managed to hold her as she struggled to break free. "Come on," Max said. He held her for a moment longer before letting her go and turning to see if the woman was all right. She was shaking her head and rubbing the back of her head. Max turned back around just in time to see a flash of light, and then a moment later he heard the loud pop of firecrackers and felt the sharp stings of tiny red projectiles against his skin. He'd been hit with a stinging nettle. "Get back, lady!" he heard someone yell behind him. "Let's get out of here!" Max turned in time to see the dark-haired man flailing his arms, and then a puff of purple smoke exploded around him and he toppled to the ground. A moment later, he heard the woman beside him screaming. Max turned back around and grabbed the woman's arms and shook her. "I said, _come on!_ " The woman seemed just as startled as Max. "What was that? What was that?" she shouted. "Go!" Max shouted, letting her go and holding his arms in the air. "Go!" The woman stared at him for a moment, the panic quickly draining from her face, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed onto her hands and knees. "What . . . ?" she muttered, her head lolling on her shoulders. Her eyes snapped back open. "What did you do to me?" # 3 Max ran toward the entrance of the train station, the other people who'd been at the door running with him. The dark-haired woman was right behind him, her body shuffling as if she were half-asleep, which she might be. "Hey! You with the blue skin!" a woman shouted behind Max. "What's going on here?" Max didn't slow down, and he pushed his way through the others until he was the only one in front. He'd never been one to run well in the past, and now, standing in front of the other people who had seen him do it, he wished he'd just walked. He'd taken one step out into the open, however, when he saw them: the others with white eyes. They were dressed like he and the others were, all in black, but there was something else, too, something that was different, something that hadn't been there before. They were grinning. Their teeth were yellow and crooked. Their skin was yellow and spotted, as if they were diseased. "Hello, friends," one of them said, and Max saw his arms and hands were no longer his own, but the writhing black of a snake. "Stop right there," a woman said. She took a step forward. She was the closest one, and Max could see the fear in her face. "We won't," a man in black said. He moved toward the woman, and she gasped, clutching her purse to her chest. The man moved in even closer, his hands growing to snake-like lengths that wrapped themselves around the woman's arms, her neck, her waist. She struggled against him, but he held on tight and lifted her off her feet, his jaw clicking together with every movement. Max took another step forward and reached out, as if he could pull her free, but he was too late. The man with the snake hands turned and looked at him. Max froze, but his legs didn't. He stumbled forward another step, and the man took a step toward him, his face still grinning, but Max saw something else behind it, something like sadness. Max shook his head and took another step, and the man moved closer to him, his hands crawling up Max's leg. He felt himself being pulled forward as his leg was grabbed, and he fell into the crowd. He was still aware of where he was going—and what was happening around him—but he couldn't see it all anymore. His vision dimmed and then went black, and he was dragged to the edge of the crowd, his feet flying over the ground, the world around him a blur. Something pulled his body forward, and when he opened his eyes again he was dangling off the edge of the street, his legs a few feet above the ground. He looked down to see that one of his legs was gone, the knee missing from a jagged hole in his pants. Max's vision began to clear and he looked up, feeling his hands being pulled through the air. He saw the street stretching out before him, the street he had taken all those hours ago, the place where he'd met the dark-haired woman and her friends. But now the ground was falling away, and he was falling down with it. He looked at the dark-haired man in front of him, his arms still wrapped around the woman's neck. Max tried to yell, but he couldn't even hear his own voice. The woman in his arms looked terrified, her eyes glued to Max, her face frozen in fear. Max's feet hit the ground, and his legs buckled. "Go away, kid," the man said. "Get out of here." Max tried to look at the man's face, but it seemed to move in and out of his vision, which was starting to get fuzzy again. He tried to talk back, but he couldn't hear himself, and he stumbled as he tried to move. He felt the cold air hit his face and open his eyes again. He was on the ground, on the street, and the man was right in front of him. "I'm not afraid of you," the man said, and then he bent down and put his hand on Max's face, his eyes staring into Max's. "Get away from here. Get away." The man moved his hand to the side and pushed hard against Max's chin, snapping his neck back. Max felt himself fall forward, but he didn't hit the ground. Max's head fell forward and his neck snapped back, but when he tried to raise his head and get up, it seemed to slip out of his control. He opened his eyes once more and saw the man just a foot in front of him. Max's eyes slid past the man's nose to his blackened teeth, and he started to move in a series of fits and spasms. He bent at the waist and tried to straighten his legs, but they wouldn't move. His arms flapped like wings, but they wouldn't open up enough for him to be able to turn over. "Here you go," the man said, reaching out and patting Max on the head. "A little present for you." Max's head rolled back and he fell over to the side, landing on his stomach. His eyes were filled with the black of the man's breath. Max could feel a hand on his neck, but it was too far away for him to turn and see what was there. "See, I told you," the man said. "You can't hurt me." The man's breath grew cold, and Max felt it seeping into his lungs. "I thought you were going to help me," Max said, but he could barely hear himself. The man seemed to be turning blue in front of his eyes. Max looked to his side. The woman with the white eyes was gone