MirrorWorld

But I’m already there, pulling on him.

He goes back to the Dread world, where I still exist, having never left. I physically and mentally experience all frequencies of human and Dread realities. The sensation is nearly overwhelming, but there is also a kind of energy in the place, painful but powerful, and it sees me through until Lyons’s body quivers and buckles.

He falls to his knees, landing in the Dread swamp. Still, I cling and pull. The oscillium wire slips through Lyons’s flesh, cutting through veins, sinews, vocal cords, and larynx. The life goes out of him and the monster tumbles back, falling toward the water with me on his back.

I leave the mirror world behind and am flung back onto the concrete walkway, eyes still trained on all frequencies. I watch as Lyons topples over, falling through me to land, with a splash, in the Dread swamp. Glowing red blood seeps from his ruined neck, pluming out into the dark water. I get to my feet, watching both worlds as Maya falls to her knees, hand to her mouth, weeping for the monster that raised her.

I walk over the solid Storyland pavement, finding Faithful, which I stop to pick up and sheath on my back. Then I step up to Maya, the woman I forgot, betrayed, remembered, and never really stopped loving, and fall to my knees. When I slip back into the mirror world, she flinches back in surprise, but I don’t see fear in her eyes. Is that what they did to her? Did they make her like me?

“You’re not afraid?” I ask.

“Of you? Never.” She falls forward, wrapping her arms around me. We stay there, immersed in the swamp of a mirror dimension, holding each other for several minutes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say, jumping straight to the crux of that matter that took her from me.

“I know,” she says, squeezing me harder, which still isn’t very hard. Suddenly aware of her fragile state, not to mention the fact that I’m probably bleeding out, I take one last look around.

The Dread watch us with quiet fascination.

“Are we done?” I ask, the question as much about me and Maya as the rest of the world on the brink of annihilation.

When I get no response or even a quizzical look, I shout the words, sending a burst of fear in all directions—except Maya’s. “Are we done!”

The reply comes as a whisper in my mind. “It is finished.”

I sag in Maya’s arms. “Love you.”

By the time she replies, we’re kneeling on the concrete walkway of Storyland, breathing ammonia-free air in a world freed from dread.





EPILOGUE

Cobb found us ten minutes later. He’d managed to get the mircrowave bomb to a bank. Once he revealed he was carrying a bomb that would cook everyone and everything within a mile unless it was contained inside something metal and grounded, the manager let him put it inside the vault. Under normal circumstances, I doubt the manager would have believed the story, but the whole world was hopped up on fear. Cobb saved the city and helped save the world without ever setting foot in the mirror world, which is fine by him. We’ve remained friends, but he wanted no part in what I’m up to today.

Maya, on the other hand, stands by my side, hidden in the woods of New Hampshire. She’s been eating well over the past month. Recovering, body and soul. My body is recovering, too. I required a blood transfusion, which nearly didn’t come in time, thanks to all the violence ravaging supplies. But there was an outpouring of goodwill following the cease-fire of Dread fear, and I pulled through. And now I’m not even sore. Whatever part of me is Dread still heals fast. At least physically. Despite the return of my memory and fearless nature, there are things I would like to forget. Things I’ve done and that I’ve endured.

Mostly things I’ve done. I can justify them, sure. I was one of the good guys, preventing terrorism or international organized crime. But the truth is that I don’t know. Being fearless means not being afraid to carry out orders. There’s no way to know if someone took advantage of that. I take solace in the knowledge that I saved the world.

Two worlds.

Things have been good between Maya and me. Rough, but good. A lot of the rough has to do with my unfettered honesty. I say what I think. But it also leaves no doubt about my honesty, and when I tell her I love her, she believes me. We’ve talked a lot. About Simon’s death. About her father’s quest for vengeance. About Winters. To my surprise, she understood and forgave me. Life will never be in short supply of painful memories, but we’re moving forward. Together. And that’s a gift. I thought I’d lost her forever.