MirrorWorld

Alcoves line the walls on both sides up ahead. In the last colony, these spaces contained empty nests. With all the action outside and the commotion in New Orleans, I expect the same here. As I run by the first alcove and glance inside, I realize my mistake. With the closest thing I’ve seen to a stunned expression on a Dread, a bull watches me pass by.

For a moment, I think it’s just going to let me pass, but then a cry rings out, echoing down the long, curved tunnel. The bellow is joined by a sharp surge of mental whispering.

Barks from far beyond me and all around me explode into the air.

I pour on the speed, instinct telling me to run from the danger while my intellect screams at me to stop because I’m simply putting myself deeper in Dread territory. My flight into danger is short-lived. Thumping feet turn my attention to the left.

A Dread bull charges from an alcove, head down, perfectly aimed. A wave of fear explodes from the monster, tearing through my body, twisting my insides like a giant corkscrew spiraling through my gut. Its four eyes lock on target, confident. With only a second before impact, I freeze in place.





51.

Muscles spasm and lock.

Lungs seize.

My body becomes a statue. Unflinching. Unmoving.

And still alive.

I can’t see, smell, hear, or feel anything. That’s not entirely true. I feel cold. And wet. Trapped tightly on all sides, moisture seeping past my clothing to chill skin.

And then I realize I have felt this before. Once. Locked in stone beneath the New Hampshire colony. I’ve left the mirror world and leapt into the very earth itself, which in New Orleans is so far below the water table there is actual water pressure. It squeezes in on me. My nose stings as water fills it, threatening to spill down my throat and fill my lungs.

In a blink, it’s all gone. The pressure. The water. All of it. I’m standing in the Dread-colony hallway, no doubt looking a little stunned. The charging bull has just passed. It felt like minutes trapped in earth, but was just a second, maybe two. The bull, having already lunged, sails through the air and into an adjacent alcove, where it careens into the back wall.

The thick but papery structure is no match for the bull. The wall tears, spilling the Dread into the space beyond. Hundreds of thin layers flutter away, butterflies in flight. A gaping hole is all that remains.

As more bulls leap from their alcoves, turning their heads back and forth, huffing and sniffing, most craning their gaze toward me, I run. For the hole. Not only is it my only hope of escape, it should also help me avoid an entire revolution around the colony, saving me a long run.

I sprint toward the alcove as the floor vibrates from the impact of so many charging bulls. It’s full of bunched-up debris, swirled into black nests, intertwined with glowing veins of surging liquid.

A head rears up.

I pull Faithful from my back, prepare to swing.

But there is something in the Dread’s four large eyes that holds me back. Not anger, or hate, or even fear.

It’s innocence. A complete lack of understanding of the danger I present. It merely regards me with interest. A baby, I realize, and then, a litter, as more heads rise. Dread or not, the rules of engagement still guide my hand, and I will not attack children. I have, in the course of my career, had my fair share of collateral damage. People get in the way sometimes. But the CIA is careful to avoid situations with children and would never actually target a child. Even secret agencies and assassins have standards. But what moves me most, when my eyes meet those of the Dread calves, is how they remind me of my son.

It’s no wonder these bulls are out of their minds trying to kill me. I’ve just invaded their home and put their children in danger. The trouble for them is that I’m just the start. If any of Lyons’s drugged-up Dread Squad get inside, they’ll kill everything. But this is war, and the Dread are ultimately responsible for what happens here today. They should have moved their young from this place. Even if they didn’t know Lyons had targeted this colony, they’ve been inside my head. They must have known that I would come when Maya’s tracker signal began transmitting.

Hopping from the edge of one nest to the next, I bounce through the alcove and leap toward the ruined wall. I’d like to say this is the old fearless Crazy shining through, but it’s really just desperation, hoping that whatever lies on the far side of this wall is less horrible than a horde of enraged, rhinoceros-sized parents.

The remains of the papery wall slap against me but provide little resistance as I plow through. When I see what lies on the other side, I shout in surprise, not because some horrible monster awaits me, but because I’ve jumped out over a twenty-five-foot drop.