Agent Lee nodded. “The girl deserves a shot. If she can do it, I say let her go. We need a miracle right now.”
Agent Barnes glanced over his shoulder at the other agents still helping the wounded.
“Well, if you need to go, you’d better go now while everyone’s forgotten about you. Director Hicks still wants answers from you, Zoey, but we’ll cover for you. Be careful, Zoey. If what you say is true, then this Mrs. Dupont is very, very dangerous.”
Zoey’s stomach twisted. “I’ll sneak in and out. She won’t even know I was there, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t recognize the mix of fear and anxiety on her face. She wasn’t even sure her master plan was going to work. But she had to try.
“And there’s something else,” Zoey said.
“Go on,” insisted Agent Barnes.
“My mother’s been taken somewhere against her will. I think Mrs. Dupont has her. If I’m right, then I’m going in for the source and for my mother at the same time. She needs my help. I have to find her.”
Agent Barnes looked at Zoey gently. “Of course you do. And, Zoey - if you do find something, get it back here as soon as you can.”
“I will.”
“Then you’d better get moving.”
Agent Barnes nudged Agent Lee, and the two agents walked back towards the Hive. Zoey looked at her friends.
“So…what’s the master plan?” asked Simon once Agents Barnes and Lee had reached the others.
“I’ll tell you once you remove that ridiculous mustache.”
Simon beamed and twirled the ends of his mustache with his fingers. “I look awesome. You’re just jealous because you can’t grow one of your own.”
“You can’t grow one of your own either, Bond,” laughed Tristan.
Simon made a face, pulled off his fake mustache, and pocketed it. “Saving it for later.”
“Since we can’t use the mirror-ports,” said Tristan, turning to Zoey, “how are we going to find Mrs. Dupont?”
“Hey, I know! We could call Captain Kirk,” said Simon. He pulled out the Aleean’s business card and waved it around proudly like a winning lottery ticket.
“Yeah, but we still don’t know where she is,” said Tristan, “So that’s not going to help us, is it? She could be anywhere around the world, and it might take us forever to find her. Zoey?”
Zoey bit her lip. “I think I know of a way to find her location and make the trip.”
Simon looked behind him. “Well, you’d better hurry up before the headless cavalry comes back. Or worse, Agent Ward. I think she wants my mustache.” He placed his hand over his pocket protectively.
Tristan leaned forward. “How? Tell us!”
Zoey’s stomach was in knots. “I’ve never tried it before, but I think it might work.”
She pulled out the mirror shard she had taken from Agent Franken’s chamber and held it out. “With this.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, Zee,” said Simon. “But remember what Agent Frankenstein said, the mirrors don’t work anymore.”
Zoey ignored him. She felt a pressure inside her chest, like it was about to blow. She held the mirror with trembling fingers.
“I’ve been thinking. Agent Franken said that I was able to create mirror-ports. Then maybe all I need is a regular mirror! All I need to do is concentrate. If I think of Mrs. Dupont, then I can create an anchor wherever she is. Hopefully, I’ll materialize at her location in one piece.”
Tristan took the mirror and examined it. “Have you ever tried this new theory of yours? I mean, it might not even work. Or worse, it could kill you!”
Zoey took the mirror back, a little irritated. “Well, it’s worth a try. I need to do something.” Tristan watched her but didn’t say anything.
“Then let’s do this,” said Simon, and he rubbed his hands together excitedly. “I mean, what’s the worst thing that can happen? We all stand here looking like idiots staring into a mirror—I look like an idiot most of the time, so there’s no surprise for me there.”
Zoey let out a shaky breath and looked at Tristan. “Do you still want to do this?”
For a moment, Tristan looked shocked. “Of course I do, I’m not letting you out of my sight. If you’re going, then I’m coming with.”
Zoey felt a blush on her face and looked away from his dark, piercing eyes.
With a last look towards the Hive to make sure the agents were still occupied with the wounded, Zoey held the mirror in front of her. She angled it so she could clearly see her reflection. She could see that Tristan and Simon were both looking at her through the mirror. The looked like they were waiting for her to tell some great joke. She pulled her eyes away and looked back at herself. She hoped she didn’t look like a fool.
“I think you both should stand a bit closer to me,” she said. “Okay, good. Now hang on to my arms, good. Wait until I get all our reflections in the mirror - I think that’s how it’ll work. I see us now. Ready.”
“Do me a favor and try not to imagine Mrs. Dupont in her bathrobe,” said Simon. His face twisted in disgust. “I’ll be traumatized for life—”
“Shut up, Simon,” breathed Tristan, and shot him an angry look.
Simon shrugged, and then whispered, “I’m just saying. Ouch! He kicked me!”
“No I didn’t.”
“Can the two of you shut up and let me concentrate, please?” growled Zoey. “I need total concentration. Thank you.”
Once Zoey knew that Simon had exhausted his outbursts and that Tristan was calm, she began. She focused all her thoughts on Mrs. Dupont. Images of the cat-faced woman rose in her mind and her anger rose. She could never forget Mrs. Dupont’s horrible face, her small black eyes, her flat feline-like nose, and her thin pale skin. She remembered the way she had smiled at Zoey, with those large swollen red lips. And she remembered that silky, patronizing voice. It was the face of a monster.
Moments passed and nothing happened.
She felt foolish and embarrassed for a moment, but she shot those feelings down. Not yet. She needed more time. It had to work.
She pressed on, and on, until she realized she was holding her breath. She let it go, and relaxed a little, letting the images of Mrs. Dupont play on their own…
Her body flickered. Her reflection shifted, as did Simon’s and Tristan’s. It was just like using the regular DSMs. First she felt cool, then her skin prickled, and then the coolness became a hot, stinging pain. Her body felt like hot coal, and she watched as their three reflections were pulled and warped. Tristan and Simon’s grips on her tightened.
At first she was thrilled, happy that her plan was actually working—and then the fear of the unexpected crept in. What was waiting for them on the other side? What if their bodies didn’t rematerialize properly and they died in the process?
“Something’s happening! Something’s happening!” cried Simon. His face warped abnormally, as if it were made of Play-Doh. “My voice sounds weird! My voice sounds weird!” And then all at once, their matter broke apart—the mirror sucked them in like a vacuum—and they were gone.
Chapter 12
The True Nation
A few seconds later Zoey’s feet touched solid ground. The cool air forced the grogginess from her mind, and the world came into focus around her. The air moved behind her as Tristan and Simon appeared at her sides. They had all survived. It took a few moments for them to get their bearings, too.
They stood in semi-darkness in a large open field dotted with trees. She could make out a mountain peak with a collection of disheveled buildings at its feet. Orange lights shone from some of the buildings. A path led up to a medieval castle that glared down on the village from the highest point.
But what was even more intriguing was the spectacular fifty-foot high stone wall that surrounded the village. It was a giant stone barrier spread out for about a mile each way and it protected the village. Zoey suspected that it had been buil
t to keep something out.
Frost covered the ground, and the air was cold, but there weren’t any traces of snow like back at the Hive. There weren’t any traces of Mrs. Dupont either. Where were they?
“That was awesome!” Simon stretched his limbs like an athlete.
“It actually worked! Not that I doubted you for a second, Zoey,” he added, with a sheepish expression. “It was even better than with the DSMs. With them, you always got that feeling of queasiness right after, but with you—nothing!”
Tristan’s mouth was slightly open in a what-just-happened expression, but when he looked at Zoey he grinned. “That was pretty cool. It was like we were all connected somehow and moving together.”
Simon’s grin widened. “You’re like your own DSM—no—you are a DSM!”
Zoey laughed. “I’m just glad that it worked, and we’re all still in one piece.”
She knew she had taken a real gamble bringing them with her on an experiment. Things could have gone terribly wrong, but somehow they didn’t. She let herself relax a little. Her palms were sweaty, and she could feel the mirror slide in her fingers.
“You know, Zoey,” said Tristan, “maybe you should tell the Agency about this - I mean, when we get back. I think your special talent could help them.”
Zoey glanced down at her reflection in the mirror. “Well, I’m not so sure. You saw how fast they were to judge me. I’d hate to think what they’d do to me if they knew I could mirror-port on my own and bring others with me.”
“Give them a chance. I think you’ll be surprised.”
“No one ever believes the orphan,” said Zoey, with a pang of sadness in her chest. “Trust me. The only way I can show the Agency that I’m on their side is to get that sample and help kill the virus.”
Tristan watched her but didn’t add anything else.
Simon leaned over to Zoey. “Hey, can I see that for a second…?”
He grabbed the mirror from Zoey’s hands before she could stop him. She lost her grip, Simon’s fingers slipped, and the mirror fell to the ground and shattered.
“Oops,” said Simon, his ears turning red.
“You idiot!” said Tristan crossly, as he faced Simon. “Now how are we supposed to get back?”
Simon lifted his hands in surrender. “Oh man, I’m really sorry, Zoey. It just slipped. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear. I don’t suppose you packed another one?”
“No.” Zoey did her best to control her anger and bit her tongue. She was so angry with him that she wanted to punch him. She knelt down and picked at the broken pieces of mirror, with a mixture of dread and anger. Even if she pieced the mirror back together, it would never work. The link was gone.
“I’m really, really, really, really sorry, Zoey,” said Simon. “I know I can be a total moron sometimes. I know it, but this hits the top of the charts. I am really sorry. I’m a total douchebag.”
When Zoey rose to her feet, she felt her anger flush away. “Well, there’s no way to fix this now. It’s broken in too many pieces and will never work again.”
“So what are we going to do?” Tristan was still glaring at Simon, who stepped back.
Zoey looked to the village. “We need another mirror to get back home, and the only place where we’ll find one,” she pointed, “is in there.”
Tristan surveyed the village in the distance. “Any ideas where we are?”
Zoey shrugged. “No, but I have a feeling someone in that village will tell us. We mirror-ported here for a reason. The virus originated in there somewhere—I can feel it.”
“Well, as long as you don’t feel the need to kill me right now,” said Simon, his face a little less flushed, “then I say we follow that path over there. It leads directly to the village.”
The three of them crossed the field and made it to the dirt road. Soon the fields disappeared and tall evergreen trees rose on either side of the road, cutting out almost all the light. The orange lights on the horizon had disappeared, and the trees cast long eerie shadows that seemed to move in the moonlight. The forest was cold, and twigs and frozen leaves cracked dully under Zoey’s weight. She thought she saw shapes move among the trees, black silhouettes, but when she looked again, they disappeared. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the forest was unnaturally quiet, like it was holding its breath. It was almost as though the forest was listening to them.
“I feel like the woods have eyes,” said Simon, as he broke the silence. “I feel like I’m being watched - like forest things are going to come out after us any minute now.”
“Forest things?” asked Zoey. “What are forest things?”
“You know - tree creatures. Little trees with big angry mouths—”
“Shut up, Simon,” said Tristan in a half laugh. “You’re imagining things again.”
Simon tiptoed forward, in an attempt to silence the noise from the gravel path, which wasn’t working. “No man, I swear, something’s watching us in the forest. Do you think there’re werewolves here? ’Cause I forgot to pack my silver bullets.”
“You also forgot to pack your meds,” said Tristan.
“Shh, listen,” said Zoey suddenly. Another shadow moved in the trees. There was something out there, watching them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her skin bristled in tiny bumps.
“I think Simon’s right—”
A shrill cry pierced the night air.
“What was that?” Simon pulled out his slingshot. “Did you guys hear that? That wasn’t human. Where did it come from? It’s the tree creatures!”
He armed his slingshot with a silver bead.
Zoey strained to listen, but she couldn’t hear anything but the beating of her own heart. Even though there was silence, her gut told her something was lingering in the forest.
Another similar cry echoed. Zoey held her breath. But this one was different - it was almost as if it was answering the other call.
“I knew it! That was a werewolf cry,” said Simon, the whites of his eyes showing. “There are werewolves in the forest. They want to turn us!”
“It wasn’t a howl, so I don’t think it was a werewolf. But you’re right about one thing,” said Zoey, searching through the trees, “that was definitely not a human cry.”
“Let’s keep moving.” Tristan brandished his dagger. “The village’s not too far away now. We can make it on time if we just keep moving.”
Remembering her experience with the Grohemoths in the swamps, Zoey grabbed her boomerang and gripped it firmly in her hand. She didn’t trust the forest. It was dense and dark, the perfect place for evil to hide. She looked up into the sky. Soon they would be in complete darkness, a very bad situation if there were to be a fight.
“I hate dark, evil-looking forests,” said Simon, “The serial killer always lurks in the spooky forest. Everyone knows that. And the skinny, stupid-looking guy always dies first.”
“This isn’t a movie,” said Tristan. “No one is going to die.”
Simon ignored him. “This is exactly like one of the Friday 13th movies. Jason is out there…he’s coming…he’s coming for me!”
“Shut up, Simon—”
Snap. A twig broke to their left.
“It’s Jason!”
Zoey’s heart drummed in her ears. She searched for the spot where she had heard the sound, but she couldn’t see anything other than the thick forest.
Another twig snapped.
Zoey whirled around to her right, just in time to see the shadow of a creature jump from one tree to the next in a flash. Whatever this was, there were a lot of them, and they were fast. She strained into the forest again, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Stick together,” said Tristan. He moved closer to Zoey and Simon until the three of them had their backs together. With their weapons drawn, they faced the invisible threat.
Something caught Zoey’s eye, and she turned just as the creature flew at her.
And then all at once—they attacked from
both sides of the road. Black shapes leaped from the trees and came down at them with a vengeance.
There were screams, yells and cries, and suddenly everyone was moving. Zoey flew forward and fell to her knees as something heavy latched itself onto her back. White-hot pain exploded in her back, like burning knives slashing into her skin. Warm blood trickled down her back.
She reached up behind in an attempt to pull off whatever had attached itself to her. Her fingers found fur. She grabbed hold and pulled. She screamed in pain. The more she pulled, the more the thing cut her. Her eyes burned, and she choked from a heavy ammonia smell coming from her attacker. She staggered to her feet, stumbled back, and tried in vain to stop whatever the creature was slicing into her back.
For a split second, she looked up and saw what it was.
Simon and Tristan had them, too.
Monkeys.
They were the ugliest monkeys she’d ever seen. The size of a medium-sized dog with unusually large heads, they were covered in thick, black fur. Their mouths were large, with rows of pointy teeth like the mouth of a piranha, and they had long, hairless tails, like snakes. She had a monkey on her back, and it was trying to kill her.
Suddenly, something wrapped itself around her neck, choking her. Its grip tightened as it tried to squeeze the life out of her. Zoey couldn’t breathe and dropped her boomerang. She felt the blood rush to her face, as she gasped for breath. She gagged, desperate for air. And then she couldn’t feel the pain in her back anymore. Dizziness clouded her mind as she began to suffocate. She could feel its hot breath on the back of her neck and hear its excited gurgling. It wanted her to die.
Something snapped and her adrenaline kicked her into overdrive. Her instincts kicked in. She staggered forward and flung herself backwards against the nearest tree. The grip lessened. With every bit of strength left, she threw herself against the tree, over and over again, until she finally felt a weight lift off her. Her throat cleared, and she inhaled deep, burning breaths.
She looked down at her attacker. The monkey lay in a pile of leaves. Its red eyes were open and staring at the sky. It didn’t move.
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