Gretchen McNeil - 3:59

She was sobbing, hysterical, and uncontrollable. Her breaths came spastically, like her body was fighting against itself to continue to function properly. She wanted to run into the darkness and scream for the Nox to come at her, to take her. She didn’t care what they were. She didn’t care where they came from. She’d rip them limb from limb if she had to, just as they had done to Penelope and her dad.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Nick said. He held her firmly to his chest, as if he was afraid he was going to lose her.

“It’s my fault,” Josie sobbed. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Josie pushed away from him. “How would you know?” Why wouldn’t he let her have this moment of suffering and blame?

“Okay, enough.” It wasn’t an angry statement, but the totality of it made Josie instantly pay attention. “Who is she?” Nick said softly. “Back in your world?”

She calmed herself almost by sheer force of will, and met Nick’s steady gaze. “She was my friend. She was the only true friend I had. When my world fell apart, she was the only one there.”

“Sounds like our Penelopes have a lot in common.”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” he asked. “How did your world fall apart?”

Josie swallowed. Her mouth was oddly parched. She’d been avoiding this since the first moment she met Nick. It was this selfish, ugly secret she’d hidden from him, either out of shame for her own motivations in coming through the mirror in the first place, or because her feelings for the old Nick seemed somehow shallow in comparison to what she had grown to feel for this one. Which was utterly and totally ridiculous. Not only did she barely know him, but the majority of their time together had been spent actively trying to return Josie to her own world. Not exactly the foundations of a long, healthy relationship.

But now, with her world crumbling around her once again, Josie felt like she had nothing left to lose. She might as well tell him the entire truth. Maybe he’d be disgusted by what he learned, and any affection, any feelings he’d developed for her over the last few days would evaporate entirely. At least then it would be easier for her to leave.

“Madison,” she said, staring at her shoes. Then the words flowed so quickly she couldn’t have stopped them with a concrete wall. “Madison was my best friend.” She looked up at Nick, his face deeply shadowed by the harsh high beams from his car. “Until I caught her sleeping with my boyfriend.” Josie’s stomach backflipped as she opened her mouth to drop the ultimate bomb. “She slept with you.”

“The other me.” Neither his face nor his voice reflected any emotion. “He cheated on you with your best friend.”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

I see. Josie tried to guess what he was thinking, but his expression was vacant. The slack muscles around his face looked more like the complete and total absence of emotion, the stereotypical blank slate. Either he was totally unable to process the weight of what Josie had just told him, or he was so horrified by the realization that Josie had come through the mirror with the intention of reliving her broken relationship with her boyfriend’s doppelgänger, that his mind had curled up into some sort of protective fetal position. Neither possibility was a good thing, and suddenly Josie felt like crawling inside her own skin, just to escape the empty, dark stare from Nick.

BRRRRRRRRING!

Josie screamed as a cell-phone ring ripped through the silence.

11:49 P.M.

JOSIE AND NICK SPUN TOWARD THE GARAGE, momentarily forgetting the vomit-inducing sight before them. The ring was close by.

“Penelope’s phone,” Nick said.

Josie stared inside, eyes glued to the far wall of the garage in a futile attempt to avoid the corpses. But they were there, clasping each other on the cold, cement floor, leaning precariously against a car, and no matter how ferociously Josie willed her eyes not to glance down and to the left, they did. Just a flicker. But enough to refresh the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Josie tried to focus on the bright, insensitive ring of Penelope’s phone. “It’s in there,” she said.

Wow. That might have been the dumbest observation in the history of this universe, or any other.

The phone stopped. Just as suddenly as it had pierced the uncomfortable silence of the night, it ceased, and the lack of sound felt even more oppressive. Josie and Nick stood still. For what, Josie wasn’t sure, but for some reason, she felt like she shouldn’t move an inch. She even held her breath. Waiting.

As if on cue, the ring started again. This time, Nick didn’t hesitate. He took a deep breath, then marched right into the garage.

Josie followed, her desire to help Nick outweighing her terror of the macabre scene inside. He paused near the bodies and Josie crept up behind him, cowering behind his frame as they listened intently for the ringing phone. It sounded nearby, but not directly in front of them, and the ring wasn’t muffled by layers of clothing but sliced through the silence of the night with its clear, loud toll, cutting off abruptly.

Josie’s eyes scanned the ground. No sign of the phone. She crouched down on her knees and peeked under the car. Nick knelt next to her and together they peered into the ominous darkness beneath the Wangs’ station wagon.

The ringing started again, and immediately a dull blue light glowed from the inside of the wheel.

“There!” Josie cried.

Nick scampered around to the front of the car and reached behind the wheel for the phone. Josie was at his shoulder as he flipped it around and read the name of the incoming caller. Josie’s stomach knotted up.

“Mads!” he said, answering the phone.

No answer from the other line.

“Madison?” Nick said. “Can you hear me? Something’s happened. Where are you?”

Still no answer.

Nick glanced at Josie and his face tightened. “Who is this?” he demanded.

The line went dead.

The color drained from Nick’s face. He tossed Penelope’s phone to Josie while fishing his own from his pocket. He hit a speed-dial button, and they both waited while the phone rang.

“Come on,” Nick said under his breath. “Answer.”

“This is Madison,” said a characteristically flat voice. “Not here. Leave a message.”

Nick ended the call. Then dialed again.

“This is Madison. Not here. Leave a message.”

Again.

“This is Madison. Not here. Leave a—”

“Dammit!” Nick roared. He scrolled back to his call screen and dialed another number. This time, the phone didn’t even ring, just went straight to voice mail. “Jackson’s not here.” He dialed another number. “Is this Zeke or Zeb? Doesn’t matter. Leave a message.”

Nick stood there panting, staring vacantly into his phone. Josie didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry? I’m sure it’s okay? None of it was true. None of it was appropriate. Penelope was dead. Maybe Madison too.

“They’re dead,” Nick said. “All of them.”

Josie gripped his arm. “You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I? You said it yourself: the Nox were sent to attack us. Just like they were sent to attack Penelope.”

The nagging voice in the back of her head. Something had been off about the whole evening. “I don’t—”

“And Penelope and her dad? The lights are on, Josie. Were on when we got here. So how do you explain both of them dead from a Nox attack?” He threw up his hands. “Don’t you see? The Grid. They cut the power and used the Nox. This was intentional.”

Josie squeezed her eyes shut. “They must have happened at the same time.”