Jeremy Robinson - MirrorWorld

The trees thin ahead. I can see the sky. I’m approaching a clearing. Almost there…

A tree cracks behind me.

I glance back. Bark has been shredded from a pine.

The air shakes.

The giant Dread is pushing itself into our world. It doesn’t want to scare me to death, it wants to smear me on the forest floor.

A blur of motion pulls my attention to the right. A tree explodes, bark peppering my face. The tall evergreen topples over, falling diagonally toward me. I hunker down and speed onward, determined to beat the tree’s descent. The splintering wood and loud whoosh are hard to hear over the ATV’s whining engine, but I can feel the thing coming, just as surely as I can feel the Dread.

Pine needles slap my head. A small branch whips my scalp, opening a wound, but I manage to escape being struck by the tree’s girth.

I look back again, expecting to see the Dread or another falling tree, but the woods appear empty, save for the dust kicked up by the felled pine.

When I look forward, I scream.

Adrenaline surges again. I move faster than I have before, turning the ATV hard to the right. The crackle of the electrified fence tickles my ears as I narrowly avoid slamming straight into it. I hadn’t seen it up close before, but I now recognize the black, weaved metal for what it is. Oscillium. No matter which world the Dread is in, it’s going to hit that fence.

And then it does.

The fence rattles as it’s lifted out of the earth by an unseen force. Electricity cracks over its surface, surging into the Dread.

I slow and look back, peering into the mirror world.

My eyes widen. The Dread is there, still alive but tangled in the fence, shrieking in pain. It’s a blur of movement, giving me no clear view of itself beyond giant limbs. I shift my vision back to a more comfortable frequency without getting a good look at the thing. All I really know is that it’s the size of a monster-truck 18-wheeler, with wide, squat legs; really long, hooked claws; and streaks of glowing purple veins.

While the monster tries to free itself from the fence shooting electricity into its body, I speed north, using the chain link as a guide. A minute later, I speed out of the woods in front of the ruined security shack. I head past the broken gate, back onto smooth pavement. I twist the throttle as far as I can.

As I near the Neuro building, I let my vision slip into the world between. The black pyramid-shaped building is still under attack. Mothmen fill the sky. The centipede thing is smashing its head into the elevator doors. Bulls and pugs scurry around the parking lot, driving the mass of humanity, who are now pounding on the outside of the building, trying to get through the metal plates. To the right of the entrance, a group of people have laid out a collection of ladders. At the top, several men with hammers, bricks, and shovels attack one of the third-floor windows, punching a hole through its surface.

A respectable amount of fear punches me in the gut, tempting me to turn and run before I’m noticed. I let my vision see just the real world again. Ignorance really is bliss. Then I have an idea. It’s insane. It’s… crazy.

I’m still that man, I tell myself.

No. I can’t do this.

Fuck off! I think at this new inner voice. Just shut up.

Fear, I realize, is like a little cartoon devil on your shoulder. You can listen to it, argue with it, or fight it like a son of a bitch.

Be Crazy. Just one more time.

I let go of the throttle, slowing the ATV. As the engine idles and the four-wheeler slows, I hear the chain-link fence rattling. I glance back in time to see the fence lift high up into the air and fall back down.

It’s through, I realize, but don’t look at the mirror frequencies. I can’t. My will to fight is a skipped heartbeat away from becoming flight.

Turning back toward the building and the mob surrounding it, I draw my handgun, exchange the cartridge for a fresh one, and spin the sound suppressor off. Gun in hand, I steer toward the ladders and twist the throttle. As I near the back of the crowd, I fire the pistol. By the third shot, people are looking my way. When I point the weapon at them, they move. When I push the fear I’m feeling toward them, using my own Dread abilities, they shriek. The pain is nearly as intense as I remember it, but its effect on my mind is dulled because I’m so distracted by the danger approaching from behind. Fear, at least, is a powerful motivator for overcoming lesser discomfort. The effect moves up the ladder as I near. People dive away, some straight to the ground, others onto the angled building, where they slide away.

When the ATV strikes the ladders and climbs, the men up top see me coming and abandon ship. I’m sure the Dread bulls and pugs have seen me now, too, but since I haven’t been struck by a limb sliding between dimensions, I’ve made it past them before they could act.

The ATV rattles up the ladders, which form a perfect ramp. When it reaches the window, the tires squeal over the smooth surface for a moment but then catch. I lean forward as far as I can to keep from falling backward and rocket up the side of the forty-five-degree slanted wall.

I take a peek into the mirror world to make sure I’m not driving into the jaws of a giant centipede. Mothmen high in the sky are coming my way, but the roof ahead looks empty.

Then I’m airborne, clearing the top. The ATV drops to the roof with a jolt. I hit the brakes and skid to a stop.

Everything on the roof stops and turns my way.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

I hop off the ATV, thinking, Please be right! Please be right!

Lyons believed that something at the colony was leading the Dread, maybe controlling them. I think that thing is the giant that’s been chasing me, directing the others with its omnipresent whisper.

I slip fully into the Dread dimension, wince against the sudden pain, and dive to the discarded 20 mm sniper rifle still leaning against the short wall. I bring it back to reality with me, but not fully out of the mirror world, and remove the spent three-round magazine, pull a spare from a pouch on my hip, and slap it in.

I blink sweat out of my eyes, knowing that Dread are approaching from all directions, lift the heavy weapon up, and plant the bipod on the short wall. I lean into it, resting the stock against my shoulder, and peer through the scope.

The behemoth is there, staring right back.

Seven round eyes look up at me as the massive Dread lopes toward the building. Five of the eyes arc across the top of the monster’s head, just above the other two, all of it surrounded by pulsing purple veins. Unlike other Dread, these eyes are solid black, like a shark’s. Beneath the eyes is what looks like an exploding mass of flesh—the tendrils that invaded and rewired my brain. Seeing the tentacles on the front of this thing’s face reminds me of a star-nosed mole I saw in a National Geographic. Ugly as hell, but the Dread mole’s horrible face and long hooked claws are definitely designed for subterranean living. Which might be why it moves so awkwardly over land. Its wide legs have a short reach. Its spine arcs with each lunge forward, almost like an otter on land. But the strangeness of its movement does nothing to negate the effect its hideous appearance has on my psyche.

My eyes twitch, spasming muscles mixed with stinging sweat. My vision is questionable, but I keep my eye to the scope, aiming between the triangle of eyes at the center of the giant’s head.

I slip my finger over the trigger.

And squeeze.

The Dread mole shimmers for a moment. I see it through the scope and shriek as something cold reaches through my chest and clutches my heart. The shot goes wild, tearing up into the atmosphere.