“What is it you can do?”

Jack crossed the room on shaking legs. Without warning life had turned suddenly dangerous. He opened the closet. He drew out a chair. The chair was steel, functional, no-frills, but very solid. Except for the back of the chair where the metal crossbar had been squeezed till it formed the perfect impression of fingers. As if it were made of clay, not steel.

He heard Diana’s sudden, sharp gasp.

“I stubbed my toe,” Jack explained. “It hurt a lot. I grabbed the chair while I was hopping around and yelling.”

Gone, Chapter 29