MirrorWorld

It turns out that my fear of falling is misguided. As soon as my descent begins, it’s arrested. The bull, now clinging to the backside of the wall, has caught me. With a grunt, it slams me into the wall, once, twice, and then a third time, rattling my thoughts and snapping me into the past.

I’m with Lyons. It’s my first day with Neuro and he’s just told me his long-term game plan for the Dread. He’s looking for a way to repel them and end what he calls their “reign of terror.” Without their influence on mankind, he thinks wars will end, fear will dwindle on a vast scale, and global peace will be attainable. He speaks with energy bordering on frantic. Hungry. Unable to understand the subtlety of fear at the time, I missed the cues that this fight was personal for him. It always was. The “better world” scenario he presented me was simply justification for a vendetta that began during his childhood.

He asks my opinion.

“In my experience,” I say, “the only way to truly squelch a longtime enemy is to beat them into submission and then reverse the flow of influence. Post–World War Two Japan is a good example.”

His only response is a smile.

The memory fades as my body is jolted.

In the present, my new surroundings overshadow the surprise I feel about the World War II analogy, of which Lyons is so fond, which originated from me. I’m hanging sideways in the grasp of a bull as it lumbers down the tunnel on three limbs. Its grip is solid, my arms pinned by my sides. I’m stuck, and while the creature is moving in the right direction, I have no intention of reaching Maya as a prisoner. The sound of several sets of heavy footfalls tell me the bull is not alone. I open my eyes and confirm it. Bulls, pugs, and Medusa-hands. Too many to count. A mob of Dread is escorting me downward.

Seeing no other option, I pull what is becoming the oldest trick in my “How to Outwit and Outmaneuver Dread” book. The quick plan is to hop into my home dimension and, while the bull is distracted by my disappearance, return to the mirror dimension, push the mob back with a burst of raw fear, put a few Desert Eagle rounds into the nearest alcove wall to weaken it, and dive right on through. It’s insane. I recognize that, but it’s all I can come up with, so I go for it.

The plan falls to pieces the moment I put part 1 into action. I’m expecting moist but solid earth to hug and hold me in place. Instead, I get a raging torrent of flowing liquid. I’m yanked forward instead of stopping, spun around, slammed against hard stone, and lost in complete darkness. Near drowning, I reenter the mirror world, hoping to be tossed to the floor farther up the tunnel. But that’s not what happens.

When I enter the mirror world, I’m not deposited on or above the tunnel floor, I’m embedded in it. Half of my body is locked in stone. The other half, lying sideways, is left to flail. With my one free eye, I see the bulls snap to attention, snorting at my return. The closest of them raises its thick foot to stomp on me.

Choice is removed once again. I manage to suck in a breath through my one free nostril and then slip back into the raging waters far beneath New Orleans. I’m swept away again and brutalized by the tunnel walls. I cling to the air in my lungs, but the rapids seem determined to knock it free. Bubbles burst from my mouth with every jarring impact.

Then my head hits something solid.

I black out for a moment.

When I come to, thrashing awake, the air in my lungs is gone.

I reach out, hoping to feel open space, but how will I know it? Moving so quickly, spun like a pebble in a rock polisher, how will I ever recognize that fraction of a second of cool air being different from the water?

I won’t.

But then, as the raging water takes a sudden turn, I do.

I don’t feel the change so much as I hear it. The gurgling, muffled cacophony of flowing water suddenly echoes in a tight space. The sound actually hurts my ears when I take a gasping breath, and then another, calming the burn in my lungs.

The surface beneath me changes to a slanted solid stone. I can’t see it, but I claw my way over the surface, fighting to pull myself free of the devil’s waterslide. The gap is small, just enough room for me to pull my torso out of the water, but my legs remain wet, tugged at by the rapids, urging me to my death.

The rock bed is cold against my head, but so very welcome. With each breath, my body normalizes. Calm down, I tell myself. Start thinking. What options do I have?

Option one, check out the mirror world. I peek without moving my body between worlds. It’s a surreal experience. I’m encased in the black earth, but it’s intercut by thin, glowing roots. I don’t clearly understand the Dread or their world, but one thing is for certain, it’s all connected. Free to move, I look in all directions and see the same thing: earth, right in my face. I rub my eyes after returning to the pitch black of the underground river. I only looked into the other world, but my brain still thinks there’s dirt in my eyes.