Twisted Mirrors (A Dark Fantasy Horror): The Edge of Reflection Book 1

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Twisted Mirrors (A Dark Fantasy Horror): The Edge of Reflection Book 1 Page 7

by Carver Pike


  The Bull Dozier bumped and hopped over the rugged terrain, traveling straight towards the first ring, the wall of fire. Large black birds that resembled vultures perched atop tall wooden poles set every one hundred feet across the width of the ring. As the van approached, one of the birds let out a loud shriek, which signaled the next one to do the same. For miles, loud shrieks sounded off one at a time.

  The men all stared out of the windshield in awe.

  “They’ve never done that before,” Sergio said.

  “They were warned by the lurkers,” Ty replied.

  “What are they?” Gabe asked.

  “Furmites,” Dozier answered. “The guards of the outer rings.”

  Gabe looked over at Sergio and Ty, hoping to get more information out of them.

  “Usually they don’t do anything. They sit perfectly still like statues or something,” Sergio said.

  “They crow when the lurkers send them a warning,” Ty added. “I’ve seen them active like this once. Only once. They attacked a truck that was traveling behind a convoy I was in. I didn’t know why. No one did. But the lurkers sent out the warning and the furmites did what they do. They destroyed the truck.”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t get through the shields on the Bull Dozier,” T-Nate assured them.

  He looked at Dozier as if expecting him to agree.

  “Right?” T-Nate added.

  “I don’t know,” Dozier admitted. “I ain’t never tried to drive through them before.”

  “If we make it to the first ring, the furmites can’t fly into the fire,” T-Nate said.

  “What’s after the first ring?” Gabe asked.

  “The second,” T-Nate replied.

  “Smart ass,” Gabe said.

  The first furmite shot up into the air like a bullet. It reached a high altitude and slowly turned with the grace of a dancer. It spread its wings and let itself free fall for a moment.

  Then, it snapped its wings closed and dove down aggressively, picking up speed. It let out a loud shriek as it prepared to attack and then with no hesitation at all, slammed itself face first into the windshield of the van. The glass cracked a little, but didn’t result in much damage.

  The other furmites were already high in the air, following suit. They each dove into the van like kamikaze pilots, sacrificing their own wellbeing in an effort to rip apart the vehicle.

  One bird’s beak slipped through the cracks in between the metal shields. Blood oozed down from its beak and sizzled as it ran down the side of the van, but it didn’t stop the bird from wriggling back and forth trying to fight its way into the van.

  Gabe lifted his leg and kicked the beak, loosening it. The bird disappeared with a shriek.

  “Don’t do that!” Sergio yelled at him.

  “What?” Gabe asked, confused.

  “Did you get any of its blood on you?” Sergio asked.

  Gabe checked his foot and didn’t see any. Sergio pointed at the spot where the furmite had been and smoke rose off of the side of the van. The blood was still sizzling.

  “It’s like acid, amigo. Don’t get that shit on you. It’ll eat you alive,” Sergio informed him.

  Gabe looked down at his bare feet once more.

  “I really need some shoes,” he said.

  One of the furmites landed softly on the hood of the vehicle and stared in through the windshield at its occupants. Dozier had his gun raised at the creature, preparing to let the bullets fly if need be.

  The Bull Dozier continued to push forward towards the ring of fire, and as it did, the furmite on the hood slowly walked towards the glass, its talons scraping against metal. It approached to within a foot of the windshield and suddenly spread its wings and opened its furry mouth wide, revealing large fangs dripping with saliva. It hissed at the occupants of the vehicle.

  “It’s warning us,” Ty said.

  “How dangerous are they?” Gabe asked.

  “One bite and you’re dead. They inject their acid blood into your veins, and you’re a goner. And if that somehow didn’t kill you, the power of their jaws alone is enough to rip out your throat,” Ty answered.

  “How sure are you that they can’t get through that glass?” Gabe asked Dozier.

  “Pretty sure,” Dozier replied.

  As the Bull Dozier approached the fire, the heat began to drive the furmites wild. They seemed to know that if they didn’t make their way into the van in the next few minutes, they’d either fry or be forced to give up.

  The large birds pecked furiously at the van. The furmite perched on the hood, pulled back and slammed its head into the windshield, causing it to slowly spider web out.

  “Step on it, bro!” T-Nate yelled. “This thing wants in here bad!”

  The furmite pulled back once more and then pounced forward, smashing its head through the windshield. Its large, fanged mouth caught Dozier’s right forearm, which was protected by a thick, leather arm guard, and sunk its teeth into it.

  The angry bird thrashed around wildly, trying to work its way into the van. Dozier shook his arm from left to right, trying to loosen the fanged beast, but its grip was much too tight. It wasn’t going to let go until it reached meat.

  “He’s got my arm!” Dozier screamed. “Shoot the motherfucker!”

  T-Nate raised his gun and tracked from left to right, trying to get a good aim on the creature.

  “I can’t!” T-Nate argued. “His venom will spray all over us!”

  Dozier yanked back and forth. He tried to pick up his gun with his opposite hand, but it had slipped to the floor and he couldn’t reach it. Instead, he gripped the bat-like ear of the furmite. He yanked on it, ripping it. The strange bird shrieked in pain but didn’t loosen its grip. It bit down harder, and the leather arm guard began to sizzle in the furmite’s mouth.

  “The arm guard’s gonna melt! Shoot him!” Dozier frantically cried out as he swerved left and right, putting little attention on driving and more on saving his arm.

  T-Nate hesitated and Dozier yanked the gun out of his hand.

  “Hit the deck!” Sergio warned.

  “Gabe, get down!” Ty cried out.

  Dozier pointed the gun at the furmite, and as he was about to pull the trigger, Gabe, with his arm wrapped in the bullet proof vest he’d been wearing, slammed his elbow down against the furmite’s head, cutting its neck against the glass beneath it.

  The furmite let go of Dozier’s arm and screamed wildly. It yanked its neck off the shard of glass and fell loosely to the side. Its eyes rolled around and focused on the fiery ring that was only about twenty yards away. The furmite flapped its wings and tried to take off but fell back down to the hood of the van.

  “Hold on. We’re goin’ through,” Dozier announced as he shoved the bulletproof vest against the dying face of the furmite.

  The flames blanketed the entire windshield. The furmite ignited in flames. It howled and screamed as it fried. Its face hung down limply, charred and dead.

  Dozier kept one hand on the wheel while he shoved the vest as hard as he could against the hole the furmite left in the windshield. He winced as the heat on the other side tried to make its way through the temporary plug.

  Gabe, Sergio, and Ty once again huddled in the center of the cargo area of the van. The fire licked at the sides and a few flames danced at the slots in between the shields, threatening to enter and burn them all alive. Sweat trickled down all of their foreheads as the van became like an oven.

  “Don’t worry, hombre,” Sergio said to Gabe. “It’s always this hot. This part we’ve done before.”

  Gabe sighed in relief, glad to know that he didn’t have to worry about surviving this one. He held up the vest and examined it. Not a drop of the acid blood.

  “You’re one loco mother,” Sergio said.

  “If he shot that gun there’d have been acid all over the place,” Gabe replied.

  “You better put that thing back on and cover that brand,” Ty reminded him.

&n
bsp; Gabe slipped the vest over his head.

  The fiery ring only lasted about fifteen seconds. Once through to the other side, the van approached a second large ring. This one was a murky green liquid. Smoke rose from the surface. A drawbridge loomed before them.

  “Good, the bridge is down,” Dozier said. “We just might make it past the acid ring without any trouble.”

  The van drove onto the wooden bridge, which creaked and moaned as if it wouldn’t be able to handle the weight of the Bull Dozier, but the vehicle navigated it without a hitch.

  Just beyond the acid ring was one more ring that resembled the acid one, but instead was filled with a clear liquid. A drawbridge was down over this one as well.

  “Water?” Gabe asked as he leaned forward and stared through the hole in the windshield.

  “Yeah, this one’s only water,” T-Nate replied.

  “With flesh eating piranhas?” Gabe asked.

  “No, just water. We made it through the outer rings,” T-Nate informed him.

  The Bull Dozier drove over the drawbridge and out into the dark, barren wasteland that lay beyond. The spotlights showed nothing but scorched earth, dirt, and gravel. The night air was black, darker than any earthly night with no stars visible to guide one’s way.

  Gabe sat in the back of the van with his eyes closed. He was exhausted. His skin was still damp with sweat from the heat of the fiery ring. Ty sat in front of him, carving symbols into one of his wooden stakes with a small knife. Gabe turned to his right and caught Sergio staring at the bulletproof vest, right at the spot where the lit up brand was located.

  “That’s a bad thing, man. You’re going to have to get rid of it eventually,” Sergio advised him.

  “It’s inside of me,” Gabe argued.

  “It’s a tracking device. Someone will always be hunting you if you don’t get it out of you. The vest should help conceal it, but you don’t want to wear that thing forever,” Sergio added.

  Gabe picked at the skin around the symbol. It was tender.

  “Are you from the other side of the mirror?” Gabe asked Sergio.

  “Yeah, we all are. All of us in the van anyway,” Sergio said.

  “Why?” Gabe asked. “What happened? Why are you here?”

  “Same as you, I suppose. I wanted revenge. I was in a gang.” Sergio stared down at the floor as if he was staring through it. His eyes became glossy and then tears began to well up. “I try not to think about it anymore. It’s easier that way.”

  “Do you want to go back?” Gabe asked.

  Sergio opened his eyes and looked over at Gabe. He shook his head.

  “I can’t, man. What would I go back to? My life, the one I knew, no longer exists.”

  Gabe waited silently for the rest of Sergio’s story, as Sergio dabbed at his moistening eyes with his shirt.

  “I lived in LA. I was mixed up in all the stuff in the neighborhood. I messed with the wrong people, trying to be all hard, thought I was a bad ass. A rival gang shot my little sister when they did a drive-by on my house. I wasn’t even home. My abuela, my grandmother, took a bullet in the shoulder, but lived. My sister lived for two days on life support before she died. She was ten years old, man.”

  Sergio tilted his head back and rested it against the wall of the van.

  “I wanted revenge,” Sergio continued. “Now I’m here. Don’t you see? I can’t go back. If my image is even still alive over there, he’s done some nasty shit. I’m sure he’s either dead or in jail.”

  “I want to go back. I need to go back,” Gabe replied.

  “You should really think about what you’re saying,” Sergio warned him. “Your image can only pull you back if you want to go.”

  Gabe thought about what Sergio was saying, but he couldn’t fully grasp it. How could anyone consider staying on the dark side of the mirror, regardless of what their image had done on the other side? He’d had a hard enough time just staying alive the last couple of hours.

  It suddenly donned on him that quite possibly every murder, rape, armed robbery, or other violent crime he’d seen on the news all his life was probably committed by an image, which meant that either their good side was still living on the dark side of the mirror, or was in prison on the other side.

  “What happens if your image dies, like, say, he’s shot by the police?” Gabe blurted out.

  His eyes were focused on the floor, trying to imagine how all of this could be possible.

  “You can only cross over if your image is still alive, so if he dies over there, you’re stuck here,” Sergio answered.

  “And if you die, he’s stuck there,” Ty added.

  Chapter 5 - The Dwellings

  Outside the Bull Dozier, up ahead, lights could be seen. A small town came into view. On each side, a small bonfire was lit, and a large one marked the entrance.

  Through the windshield, Gabe thought the Dwellings looked like a dark, nearly deserted medieval village. Most of what could be seen was made up of rotting wood and old scrap metal. Armed guards stood watch around the perimeter.

  The van pulled up to the entrance and stopped in front of four guards. They wore metal helmets and armor. The guard who seemed to be leading the group had linebacker-sized football pads on his shoulders, painted black. They pointed their rifles at the vehicle.

  The linebacker leader lowered his weapon and walked over to the driver’s side. T-Nate opened his door and stepped out to meet the guard.

  “One nation?” the guard asked.

  “Under God,” T-Nate replied.

  “With liberty?” the guard followed.

  “And justice for all,” T-Nate responded.

  The guard smirked and loosened up. He slapped T-Nate on his shoulder.

  “You’re always bustin’ our balls,” T-Nate said as he laughed and headed back to the Bull Dozier.

  “Just have to make sure you aren’t under duress,” the guard replied. “You know how many maniacs try to get in here.”

  The Bull Dozier drove through the streets of the Dwellings. Unlike Darkar, the streets were peaceful and quiet. There were lanterns and small torches lining the streets, but no wild bonfires.

  No one sniffed orange powder and no one ran around naked and armed to the teeth.

  Random materials provided shelter to many of the shack-like houses. Old, ragged tires were stacked up on all four corners of one dwelling, holding the roof above the heads of a couple sitting in lawn chairs, eating some type of peanut snack.

  Next to the tire home, the frame of a destroyed shuttle bus was being used as shelter. Two men cuddled underneath the lantern light they’d hung above their heads.

  All around the Bull Dozier, people struggled to live as normal as possible given the horrible conditions that were provided by the dead and scorched earth.

  Gabe stared out of the slots on the side of the van and watched as a couple walked down the dirt road holding hands. They looked happy.

  “These people are images?” Gabe asked.

  “Yeah, most of ‘em are. Quiet, huh?” Dozier replied.

  “Unnaturally quiet,” Gabe said under his breath.

  The Bull Dozier pulled up outside of a large shack made of wood, cinder blocks, and rusted scrap metal. The building looked sloppy but sturdy. T-Nate, Dozier, Gabe, Sergio, and Ty all stepped out of the van and formed up in front of the shack.

  Two guards stood post at the shack’s door. One of them noticed Gabe and frantically prepped his weapon and aimed it at him.

  “Stay right there!” the guard yelled. “Put your hands up over your head!”

  “Whoa!” Gabe yelled as he raised his hands and took a step back.

  “What is he doing here?” the guard asked T-Nate.

  “Calm down,” T-Nate told him.

  “They think you’re Cutter. Remember I said that he attacked the Dwellings not too long ago?” Sergio informed Gabe.

  Gabe laughed under his breath, having a hard time believing his miserable run of bad luck. The bad
guys wanted him dead. And the good guys wanted him dead.

  “I said don’t fuckin’ move!” the guard yelled.

  Both guards now had their guns raised and pointed at Gabe.

  “It’s not Cutter,” T-Nate informed them. “Look at him. Look at him closely. He’s from the other side. Cutter is his image.”

  The guards looked at each other and then one of them stepped closer to get a better look at Gabe.

 

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