Bab 22: Chapter 022: The Void's puppet- part one.

Thin, bony fingers scraped against the window frame, a chilling counterpoint to the first slivers of golden light peeking through the grimy glass. Panic, sharp and icy, tightened its grip on Thomas's face as the Trickster's mocking words echoed in my mind: 'Closer than you think…'

With a desperate shove, I sent Thomas tumbling off the mattress and onto the floor, shielding him from the skeletal figure now perched menacingly on the windowsill. Its empty sockets glowed with an unnatural hunger, and its limbs, brittle and white, tapped impatiently against the wood and glass.

"Out… Now." I whispered, a surge of courage momentarily pushing down the knot of fear in my gut. I snatched a dusty bag from the floor and began stuffing it with medical supplies and water, working silently despite the hammering of my heart. "Back door."

But Thomas, his eyes wide with terror, remained frozen. "Grace?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.