The Annihilation of Foreverland

suffer.”
    A breath.
    Pop.
    “I…” Reed ran out of wind.
    Mr. Smith was unsympathetic. Unmoved. Eyes of grey, uncaring.
    “I hate you.” Reed whined with the next breath that cut deeply into his rib cage. His eyes streamed tears. Not sadness. Hatred .
    “I want…”
    “Stop, son. I didn’t do this to you. You have steadfastly refused to help yourself. You have no one else to blame. You can put a stop to it right now. Let’s end it, my boy.”
    Mr. Smith put his hand on Reed’s cheek. Meant to comfort, it was stiff and cold.
    Reed quivered. Head convulsing. He kept his breath shallow and braced for the pain.
    He spit in Mr. Smith’s face.
    “Get… out.” He squeaked. “Get out.”
    Mr. Smith stepped back. He wiped the pink saliva off his face, unable to control the stern anger that pinched his brows and hid his eyes in shadows. Stiffly, he marched away, pulling his dead leg along.
    Lucinda remained in the aisle . Smiling.
    Reed closed his eyes. A sob escaped. He tried to control it. It only hurt inside. But when she reached out, when she touched his face, it was warm and loving and kind.
    His tears grew hotter.

58
    The Director was not surprised to see that the sky had been consumed by the Nowhere. He felt it getting smaller. Foreverland was disappearing into chaos. It wouldn’t be long, but he wasn’t too late.
    He assumed a body that, for all intents and purposes, looked like the one lying on the chair at the top floor of the Chimney. Minus the belly and wrinkles, he looked like the Director in the flesh. Perhaps a little more youthful and glowing. A body worthy of an immortal.
    He walked across Foreverland’s Yard. It had not changed much since the first day he had visualized it. In the very beginning, he decided that his alternate reality environment would look like the island. It didn’t really matter what it looked like. When he invited the boys into it, they didn’t seem to care since they could do anything and be anything.
    After this trip, he would escape the confines of Foreverland and burst into the universe like the Big Bang. He would be much bigger than his own little mind. He reached the edge of the Yard and leaned against a tree. Then melted into it. He became the tree. He waited patiently for the boys to arrive. And one at a time, they did. Until they were all there. Just about all of them.
    The Director had a change of heart.
    After much thought, he decided Danny was, indeed, too dangerous to let free inside Foreverland. He had progressed much too quickly. It was too much of a risk that he would control everything this time. And if he got control of Foreverland, he would control the Director. There was a chance he might even crossover into the Director’s body and abandon him in the Nowhere, lost in his own mind.
    All would be lost.
    The Director formed a thought-command. He learned that from watching Danny. He willed all the boys in the Yard to disperse. He willed them into the Nowhere. He felt their identities loosen, watched them scatter like molecules set free. They drifted like vapor into the gray fog where their identities would unravel never to be what they were before that. Their bodies would remain vacant in the Haystack. Some might call it murder.
    When the Yard was clear, he waited.
    And when the time was right, he willed himself into another body, this one in the likeness of a redheaded boy with freckled cheeks. And, next to the sundial, he appeared as if Danny Boy had returned. The Director walked around and looked surprised.
    The girl fell from the sky like the Goddess of the Nowhere.
    She meant to snag Danny and pull him into the Nowhere. Instead, Danny grabbed her.
    She had taken the bait.
    Danny turned into a bearded man. He smiled at her.
    “At last, we meet.”
    She squirmed but it did no good. The Director wrapped his mind around her and squeezed.
    The first of many screams rattled in her throat.

59
    Danny and Zin took the steps three at a time and threw the door open.
    The library was quiet and empty. Lights hung from the vaulted ceiling, softly illuminating the rows of bookshelves.
    The main desk was to the right. Mr. Campbell – one of the oldest looking and slowest moving men on the island – was straightening a pile of papers. He looked up with a stiff neck.
    “Hello, boys,” his voice rasped. “I’m closing the library. It’ll be open tonight sometime.”
    “Mr. Campbell.” Zin took a second to catch his breath. “We just need to get a