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I fought blindly for a moment, adrenaline tearing through my veins. My elbow connected with a wax figure’s face, and it felt like punching through warm putty. And still, they kept coming, a relentless onslaught of facsimiles that felt no pain.

A savage hiss ripped from my throat, and I shoved another three of them off me. They hit the cabinetry, toppling my reading lamp and scattering everything on the small counter.

I wheeled around and swung again, my fist aiming for one wax figure’s impossibly perfect face. But it dodged my blow at the last second, and my knuckles smashed right through the thinwooden panel behind it. Sharp splinters ripped into my skin, sending a jolt of pain shooting up my arm.

I snarled an inarticulate curse, yanking my fist free and rounding on another cawing wax creature with a rumbling roar.

It lunged low and I kicked out my foot, catching it right in the chest and toppling it over the small end table in the corner. Another leapt for me, lanky arms outstretched, and I seized it around the waist and hurled it aside like a rag doll. It crashed through the narrow window, glass shattering outward in a spray of sparkling shards.

A gust of hot air whooshed inside, warm and clammy against my sweat-damp skin.

Myrtle lurched violently on the water, the deck tilting beneath the relentless onslaught. My vision blurred as I strained and struggled, but I could still make out Leah’s belongings scattered about, shelves overturned, lamp cords dangling like torn sinew.

A violent anger tore through me. They were wrecking the boat. They were wreckingour home.

Another wax figure clamped a hand around my ankle and I stomped down on it, feeling its body squelch beneath my foot. It oozed like melted putty, waxy flesh ballooning under the hem of its suit.

I kicked it away, my eyes darting wildly, and all I saw was destruction: shattered glass, splintered wood, and dismembered wax lumps among the remaining assailants.

That’s when I noticed it – the shift in the air, a new scent cutting through the acrid smell of melting wax and something putrid. It was a familiar scent, wafting through the broken window. My lungs constricted as a primal dread bloomed in my chest.No. No, no, no…

I spun toward the gaping hole where the door had once been. The sky outside was dark now but I could just make out a figurein the doorway. My heart jackhammered against my ribs, and a wave of helpless panic threatened to swallow me whole.

There, quivering at the threshold, was Leah, white as a sheet and looking on in horror.

Her startled gasp echoed in the cramped cabin and the remaining wax figures collectively paused, every head snapping toward her in perfect unison.

18

Leah

My first thought when I saw the gaping hole where the door used to be was that someone had broken into my boat. My second thought, when I stepped onto the boat and found Maxine surrounded by thosethings, was that I’d walked into a living nightmare.

Myrtle’s interior was all splintered wood and shattered glass, like a tornado had blown through. And those… people—no,things—their skin unnervingly smooth and their faces expressionless except for those wide, artificial smiles. They looked like mannequins come to life, waxy and warped in places, and my gut twisted at the uncanny sight.

Then the world moved like someone had pressed a fast-forward button.

One of those waxy figures jolted forward, impossibly fast, grabbing my collar and yanking me inside so abruptly that I lost my footing. I crashed to my knees – clawing at those bony fingers gripping my shirt – a scream lodged in my throat as I stared up into vacant, hollow eyes.

Maxine was at my side in a flash. She struck the wax figure so hard its entire chest cavity seemed to cave in, and it staggered backward, pulling me off-balance. I tumbled to the floor as the creature's grip loosened, adrenaline roaring through my veins as Maxine hauled me to my feet and shoved me toward the back of the boat, to my bedroom.

“This way—go!” she barked, gripping the scruff of my collar, guiding me along and kicking out at the grasping fingers that followed us.

My pulse pounded in my ears, but I managed to stumble forward. Maxine kept at my back, fending off another lurching attacker with a dullthudof impact. The boat rocked so wildly that I nearly fell to my knees again, but I forced my legs to keep moving, my only goal being to put as many doors between us andthemas possible.

Finally, we stumbled into my cramped bedroom, and Maxine spun around, slamming the door shut and lunging for the lock, twisting it and bracing her body against the flimsy wood.

No sooner had she done so than the pounding started – fists striking the door in a rapid, furious rhythm. I could see the wood creak and bow under the relentless assault, and every thud sent a jolt of terror through my chest.

Maxine was breathless, splattered with droplets of something that wasn’t entirely blood—it gleamed in the low lamp like half-melted plastic. Her eyes met mine and I saw the panic there.

Outside, the pounding intensified, sending tremors through the thin walls. The door rattled as though it might give at any second. My gaze darted around the room, looking for something,anything, any object we could use as a weapon or a barricade. But my bedroom was small and sparse, hardly a fortress.

I swallowed hard, clenching and unclenching my fists. “What are those things?”

Maxine gave no answer. Instead, she gritted her teeth, her palms pressed to the door.

“Maxine!?”