Jeremy Robinson - MirrorWorld

But I get to my feet again.

So does the bull, though this time it’s not exactly right. I don’t know if it’s dying or if the bullet lodged in its head is screwing with its thought process, but when the thing charges, it’s not in a straight line.

With my handgun missing, knocked away when I was struck, the machete is my only weapon, unless… I look back to where the pine tree was, to where the ATV should be crumpled up. The bow and arrows are there, floating in space, held by an ATV that can no longer be perceived by any of my senses but that exists nonetheless. These oscillium weapons can exist in both worlds or just one at a time. Sounds like a bunch of science fiction hoo-ha, but there they are, floating by the tree.

There’s not enough time to get the bow, and the machete—I draw it up and out of the scabbard hanging on my bare back—feels like an extension of my arm. Not that it will help if the bull manages to throw its full weight into me. The Dread bellows oddly, its voice slick and warbling. Confused. It’s going to miss, I think, and prepare to strike as it passes. But then it stumbles and is suddenly back on track, green blood–coated head lowered to ram the life out of me.

See what’s not there, I think. Be somewhere else! Go home!

A pain like melting flesh surges up from my feet, rises through my chest, and explodes from my mouth as a scream.

The bull’s head slams into the machete first. The blade bites deep, severing the thickly armored skull in two. The creature’s battle cry is silenced, but forward momentum carries it straight through me . I’ve passed, painfully, back into the world between, still able to see the bull but no longer physically interacting with it. The pine trees are back. The wrecked ATV, too. The only hint that the Dread world is just beyond my perception is the green veins scattered about the ground like a loose net.

I duck as the machete, which still exists in both worlds, is caught in the beast’s skull and wrenched from my hand. The side of the blade slips past my head while the bull crushes his face against a mirror-world tree I can no longer see.

Black fog covers my vision as the bull slumps down dead. While my body is free from the bull, my vision is stuck in the lightless insides of the bull’s body. I try to step out of it, to the side, but am held in place. It’s my belt and the scabbard strap. The Dread is still interacting with them, pinning them against a tree that’s no longer there.

Wrenching the machete back and forth, I tug it free. Then I slip the blade beneath the strap over my chest but stop before cutting it free. Oscillium can be here, there, or everywhere. And I can bring it with me. Change its frequency. Bioelectromagnetism. Rage moves it into the mirror world, calm pulls it back. I turn my attention to the strap, will it to leave the Dread world while thinking pleasant thoughts, which is hard to do while trapped, naked, and covered in mud inside the body of a monster. Rage would be easy, but calm? My free hand comes up and clutches the plastic pendant. This is my calm. My center. I focus on it. My chest burns with such intensity that I expect to see smoke and smell roasted me. I breathe through it, like a woman in labor, maintaining mental calm despite the body’s signals that something is wrong. And then the pain fades and the pressure on my chest disappears. The oscillium strap has shifted back into my reality, or rather left the mirror world behind.

I shake my head. Bioelectromagnetism. Who would have guessed? Granted, it’s mild pseudoscience compared to the discovery of varying frequencies of reality, but learning about weird shit and actually doing weird shit are very different experiences.

I try to move again, but there’s a tug around my neck. The pendant. It’s not made of oscillium and shouldn’t be able to move freely between worlds. I consider leaving it behind, but a deep sense of loss, like a nail pounded into my chest, forbids it. It’s a part of me. I have no idea why, but I think I’d stay here and rot before leaving it behind.

So I decide to take it with me. I did it once before, when I fell through the tree. Allenby mentioned that such a thing, in theory, could happen, probably with some kind of concerted effort, but I somehow achieved it instinctually. But can I duplicate the effect on purpose?

This is different from the oscillium. The pendant’s metal and plastic weren’t designed to switch frequencies in response to a change in bioelectromagnetism. But that doesn’t mean it’s stuck in one frequency. Allenby said it was theoretically possible, and I proved it by somehow bringing the pendant with me. But how?

Force of will, I think. The object around my neck feels like part of me, so when I fell through the tree, whatever part of me has changed took the pendant along for the ride, letting it piggyback through the frequency shift. Just like the food in my stomach, I think. It’s not technically part of me, but it comes along for the ride. I’m no scientist, but it’s the layman’s explanation that makes the most sense. Maybe Lyons will be able to explain it? What’s important is that it is possible.

I close my eyes, will with all my heart and soul that the plastic charm will stay with me, and lean forward. For a moment, I feel nothing but the pull of the chain on my neck. The tug becomes a strangle, the chain taut, stuck inside the bull. C’mon! I think, hoping the chain won’t snap. C’mon!

A sharp sting, like a razor’s cut, or how I imagine a tight garrote must feel, slides across my throat. Am I killing myself? Am I sliding my body through the chain? These possibilities cause me no fear, but I’d prefer not to have a metal chain embedded in my neck. A sharp tingling sensation seeps out of my neck, and for a moment I can feel it reaching out, stretching along the notches of the pendant.

I pitch forward, freed from resistance. My first thought is that the chain broke, but when I open my eyes again, I’m free of the bull and the pendant hangs around my still-tingling neck. I clasp my hands around the rainbow-colored mystery, more thankful for its presence than surprised I’ve just moved a nonoscillium object between worlds. My hands travel to my neck next. There is no wound. The pain was caused by the shift. Back in the world between, closer to my original sensory self, the discomfort is once again a dull ache.

With all of my accoutrements freed from the Dread world and the bull’s body, I’m able to step away and look at my fallen foe. It’s dead, that’s for damn sure.

And I’m as naked as a hairless cat, but not quite hairless. The mud from the other world is gone, left behind when I shifted back home. Machete in hand, I scramble back to the pine tree, body protesting with every movement because of the lingering effects of shifting between worlds, not to mention getting clubbed by the bull. My clothing is plastered around the trunk where my body should have struck. I peel the articles away and quickly dress.

After slipping on my second shoe and tugging the laces tight, I sense a presence and, without thought, focus on the world around me, in multiple frequencies. The sudden surge of extrasensory input hits the inside of my forehead like a sledgehammer, but I manage the pain with the knowledge that it is temporary. Clicking screeches, which I can clearly hear, mix with the strange whispering that feels more… in my head. I plug my ears. The clicking stops. The whispering continues in my head . I turn slowly, keeping my body concealed by the pine tree and ATV.

Several small Dreads, the size and energy level of pugs, swarm around the fallen bull. They’re focused on the wounds, twitching back and forth, sniffing the body and the air. Are they scavengers? I wonder, but the things never take a bite.