by S. G. Wilson
I knew the voice belonged to a Me, but I couldn’t tell which one. It wasn’t deep like Mobster’s or dramatic like Ren Faire’s or shrill like Troll’s. That didn’t make it any less scary. I raised my hands along with Motor and Hollywood, none of us daring to turn around.
“Who sent you?!” said the Me.
“Nobody,” I said. “We left the hotel by ourselves.”
“Why?”
“To see what the Void was all about?” said Hollywood.
The Me snorted. “You walked out of the Janus and into the so-called Void for a little stroll?”
“Wait a minute,” said Motor. “Resist Me? Is that you?”
We all turned around to face a Me with long hair cut like a girl’s. Not hippie hair. Not heavy metal hair. Girl hair, with bangs and lots of bounce. What’s more, this Me wore a skirt. Not a kilt. Not a loincloth. A skirt.
This Me was a she.
My mind had already reeled a lot today, but Resist Me was a whole new level of reel. I knew a few transgender kids from school and it was no big deal, but seeing a transgender twin of myself hit a lot closer to home. Had I always just figured I was a boy but missed something? Was I in denial? And if so, did I have the guts to do something about it?
It was so much to take in that I barely registered the slingshot Resist aimed at us.
“Resist, old buddy!” Hollywood flinched every time his eyes landed on the slingshot. “How’ve you been?”
Resist pulled her weapon tighter, so we raised our hands higher. “Don’t ‘old buddy’ me, you sellout! We were never friends, even before you started working for Meticulous! He sent you here, didn’t he?”
“I got fired, okay?!” said Hollywood.
Even with her hands occupied, Resist managed to crack both her thumbs as if she knew it would annoy me. “A convenient story.”
“This is Hollywood we’re talking about,” said Motor. “You really think he’d last long as Meticulous’s assistant?”
“Hey!” said Hollywood.
Resist smirked. “You’ve got a point there. What I don’t get is you, Motor. I always knew you were a wuss, but I never thought you’d stoop so low as to work for Meticulous too.”
“First of all, we’re not working for Meticulous,” I said. “We’re trying to get away from him. He wanted to banish me here.”
“You mean to say you escaped by running to the place you were trying to escape from?” she said.
None of us had an answer for that one. Finally, Hollywood said, “Well, when you put it like that, it does sound pretty gosh-darned stupid.”
Resist took me in with the same snide look Meticulous had mastered. “Are you that new Me I’ve heard about? The one they call Wild Me?”
I pointed to my name tag. “I’m more of an Average Me, really.”
“How did you know about him?” said Motor. “You haven’t been to Me Con for weeks.”
“We monitor transmissions in the hotel. Picked up a lot of chatter about a Wild Me causing all sorts of chaos.”
Motor’s eyes went wide. “Did you say we?! Are the other Missing Mes here too?!”
“The Missing Mes are just a conspiracy theory,” said Hollywood. “They’re not missing. They were sent home because they weren’t following the rules.”
Resist aimed the slingshot at Hollywood’s nose. An easy target, given the swelling. “That’s what your friend Meticulous told you, is it?”
Hollywood squirmed. “Uh, yeah?”
She gestured around the barren street. “Does this look like anybody’s home to you?”
“So what is this place, then?” I asked.
Somehow, Resist cracked all her knuckles without lowering the slingshot. “Welcome to Earth Zero.”
* * *
—
Resist had the best withering glare of any Me I’d met so far, probably the best in the entire multiverse. It was the kind of look that didn’t just shut you up; it scared you from ever wanting to talk again. “Time for you to shove off,” she said, tightening her grip on the slingshot. “I can’t risk the safety me and my crew have built for ourselves.”
“The other Missing Mes really are here, aren’t they?!” said Motor.
“Cool!” said Hollywood. “Are you guys like some kind of ragtag band of Mes surviving on your wits and cunning?”
Resist sighed and lowered her slingshot. “You’re all too stupid to be a threat. And my hand is cramping up. Just don’t try anything funny. I’m a quick draw.”
“Why did Meticulous kick you all out in the first place?” I asked.
Resist scowled at the memory. “I can’t speak for the others, but in my case, it’s pretty obvious. Meticulous likes a certain type of Me for Me Con, and I clearly don’t fit that description.”
“Actually, he said you were too mouthy and political,” said Hollywood. “Hey, don’t look at me that way! Those were his words!”
Resist shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you in the open like this. I’m outta here. You’re on your own. The wall’s not far. So go start a new life. Good luck.” She turned to go.
“What wall?” I said. “There’s stuff here? Other people?”
“Do they have sushi?” asked Hollywood. “I’m dying for a decent meal.”
Resist jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “The wall’s that way. It’s your only option at this point. Trust me, that hotel ain’t opening anytime soon.”
Which is exactly when the door swung open and Ren Faire poked his head out. He took us all in with a dramatic double take. “Stand thine ground, knaves! Thou art henceforth mine prisoners!” Then, over his shoulder: “Compatriots, come hither!”
“He’s got backup!” yelled Resist. “Run!”
She took off down the street. Hollywood and Motor followed right behind her, though at a much slower pace. “Come on, Average!” Motor cried as he pressed forward.
I almost joined them, but I was tired of running. The fizz roared through me like a thousand energy drinks, and I knew I could take on Ren Faire. Even when Mobster and Troll stepped through the door, I had no doubt I could beat them too.
Troll looked up and down the empty street. Wherever the other Mes had gone, they’d made their getaway without a trace. “I guess this one will do for now, but I get dibs on Motor.”
“We shall find yon fatso and the preening jester soon enough,” said Ren Faire. “But Wild Me is special to the boss.”
“Why are you even coming after us?” I said. “Didn’t Meticulous want to send me here anyway?”
Ren Faire’s leather gloves squeaked as he clenched and unclenched his fist. “That was before he investigated thine actions on his Earth. Now he hath more questions for thee.”
I was too amped up from the fizz to say anything witty, so I settled for “You and what army?!”
The three Mes laughed. Their guard was down, making this the perfect time for me to leap into action. The trouble was that different parts of me leapt into different kinds of action, and none of them matched. My legs did a dropkick while my fists struck out with a punch and my face thrust forward in a head butt. Separately, all three would have been good moves, but together they worked against each other. I wound up all twisted and fell to the ground in a heap.
So much for superpowers.
My pathetic attempt at fighting gave the three evil Mes quite a laugh. Troll got so carried away he actually fell to his knees. So, in a way, I’d brought one of them down, at least.
Ren Faire sauntered over to me and pointed his sword at my neck. He stood so close I could have kicked his legs out from under him or punched him in the privates. But after such an epic fail, I had no confidence left. It was time to surrender.
Just as I started to get up, some instinct made me duck back down instead. A trail of smoke strea
ked through the space where my head had just been and hit Ren Faire full in the chest. The smoke bomb burst in a thick gray cloud, sending the Me reeling. Mobster and Troll froze as the haze spread around them. All three of them coughed in harmony.
Through the fumes, I caught a glimpse of Resist ducking inside a defunct business called Planet Fitness Cinnabon. She must have had a change of heart and wanted me to follow her. With my legs still supercharged, I rushed into the place. I’d eaten at Cinnabon and seen Planet Fitness, but I’d never imagined the two going together. The thick stench of ancient sweat and stale frosting nearly knocked me out. By the door was a glass case of rotting pastries, and just beyond it, an abandoned workout room with busted exercise equipment. The ruined treadmills and StairMasters had little toasting pads attached to keep cinnamon buns warm as patrons worked out.
A clang and a muffled curse came from the doorway at the far end of the room. Resist must have stubbed her foot as she made her way through. “Wait up!” I called.
“Stay away!” she hissed.
So, of course, I didn’t. No sooner had I leapt into the weight room than she came at me. I ducked out of the way with a pretty good dodge for somebody who’d barely ever been in a fight. But I was still too new at this to protect myself when she pinned me against a rack of dumbbells shaped like cinnamon buns.
“Thanks a lot!” She dug her forearm into my throat. “Mobster and the rest would never come this deep into the Rip Zone if Meticulous didn’t really want you. Why is that?”
“Long story,” I wheezed through my blocked windpipe.
She sneered. “If they find our HQ because of you, you’ll really, really regret it. And I mean really regret it.”
I gagged a little extra so she’d let go. It worked. “This is your HQ?” I spluttered, catching my breath. “Doesn’t the smell get to you?”
She eyed the exit door. “This is just a hiding place. You’ll never see our actual HQ, because you’re leaving. I get a ten-second head start.”
The front door banged open, and heavy footsteps stomped into the room we’d just left. “Youse can’t hide from us, Wild Me!” yelled Mobster. “And neither can youse, pretty princess! May as well call it quits, or I’ll plug ya!” Then a loud thunk, followed by an echo of the curse words Resist had used just a moment ago.
I peeked through a crack in the wall to see Mobster pulling his foot from the spokes of a fallen exercise bike. Resist shoved me out of the way and looked for herself. She whipped the slingshot from her pocket like she planned to shoot him through the hole. But before she could so much as load the thing, I snatched it out of her hand with my boosted reflexes. The problem was I forgot about my boosted strength—my fizzing grip accidentally snapped the weapon in two.
Resist slapped the broken weapon from my hand. “What kind of weirdo are you? Now I have to use my fists!”
“Are you serious? He’s like twice our size!”
She rolled up her sleeves. “Nobody calls me pretty princess and gets away with it!”
“Let me try something else first.”
I fished a quarter from my pocket and tossed it through the hole. Normally, I had the hand-eye coordination of a sea slug, but that wasn’t the case in the so-called Rip Zone. For once in my life, an object I threw landed exactly where I wanted it to: right beside Mobster. As he swung his thick head around to see what had thunked beside him, I made a screeching noise. Mobster screamed and almost impaled himself on a rowing machine in his rush to get through the front door.
Resist screwed up her face. “What was that sound you made?”
“My rat impersonation. Rats scare me, so I figured they’d scare him too.”
She grunted at me, with either grudging respect or deep annoyance. Maybe a little of both.
“Where to now?” I asked.
Resist brushed grit and plaster off her skirt. “You’re not following me.”
“Come on! I need to find Motor and Hollywood before the goon squad does. We’re lost out here without you.”
She stretched her legs to prep for running. “Not my problem.”
I tried stretching too, until I pulled something in my back and gave up. “Can’t you see we’re on the same side? We’ve both been kicked out of Me Con. Meticulous is our enemy. It only makes sense for us to team up.”
Resist shoulder-checked me as she headed for the exit door at the far end of the room. “Meticulous wants you for questioning, and when he wants a Me for questioning, he won’t stop until he gets his answers. I can’t have you leading him to my crew.
“Sorry, Average Me,” she said on her way to the back door. “You’re on your own.”
Resist hadn’t even touched the sticky door handle of the Planet Fitness Cinnabon exit before we heard footsteps fill the lobby. A quick glance through the hole in the wall showed Ren Faire and Troll searching the place for us. Mobster cowered at the entrance.
“Careful!” said Mobster. “Those rats could be anywhere! Real rats, I mean, not dem dirty rats we’re after!”
Ren Faire spotted me through the hole and raised his sword. “Onward!”
I caught up to Resist so fast I crashed into her. We busted through the back door together as a mishmash of compatible body parts.
The back of the building butted up against a high cement wall with rings of barbed wire on top. We couldn’t go around, and we couldn’t go back, so we had to go over. That looked impossible, until I saw Resist do it. With epic parkour skills, she bounced her body back and forth like a Ping-Pong ball between the wall and the back of the building, making her way up and then over the whole shebang.
I’d never done parkour, but now I had every reason to try. By the sound of the goons’ stomping and shouting, they had nearly reached the exit door.
Jump, kick, jump, kick. It was official: being on Earth Zero had turned me into something far more than average. Before I knew it, I’d cleared the top of the wall. But seeing what was on the other side made me want to jump right back over.
I landed in a too-much-Halloween-candy nightmare interpretation of my town’s Main Street. New buildings had sprouted up alongside the old ones. Next to the drab library rose a castle. It wasn’t just some prop but the real deal. So was the full-size pyramid beside the boxy courthouse, and the classic Japanese pagoda across from the ugly Department of Motor Vehicles. They were honest-to-goodness architectural marvels crammed up against squat little strip malls and gas stations. Even weirder, people were running businesses out of them. Smokey’s Indoor Tanning & Barbecue had set up shop in a genuine Greek temple, while Chattering Teeth Dentistry & Trampoline Park took up the lower level of a French palace.
The stores themselves made even less sense. A place called Accordion Emporium sold nothing but five stories of wall-to-wall accordions. Dream Memes hawked what it claimed were custom dreams that played in your mind as you slept. A beauty salon offered treatments to make your hair burn like an eternal flame, and an auto garage touted itself as the “Best Hovercar Repair & Flying Frozen Yogurt in Town!” Even the familiar places were a little off. Bed Bath & Beyond had turned into Bed Bath & Bass Pro Shop, selling home decor and fishing supplies. Chick-fil-A had become Chick-fil-A Cheesecake Company, where fried chicken was stuffed inside rich desserts. And in place of the old Panda Express was a Panda Estée Lauder, where you could buy Chinese takeout and makeup.
As I stood there gawping, I got a faceful of feathers from a pair of giant wings passing by. They grew from the shoulders of some guy in a business suit. It turned out that a winged businessman hardly stood out on this sidewalk. An entire family with green skin and forehead antennae walked past us, followed by a little old lady with a glowing red eye implant and a robot arm. Across the street, a teenage boy and girl with the heads of Chihuahuas did skateboard tricks on the curb, nearly bumping into a real-life centaur cantering past them as he sipped from a bottle of homem
ade kombucha.
Even the normal humans looked bizarre, dressed in all sorts of insane clothes, from animal furs to astronaut suits. Some of their outfits didn’t match at all, like a guy who wore a polyester leisure suit over Spanish conquistador armor, or a woman clad in a baby-blue tuxedo and an antique diving helmet.
“What is all this?” I asked Resist. She was busy listening for any sound of Ren Faire and the others trying to make it over the wall. I couldn’t hear anything, thanks to the floral-print zeppelin that buzzed overhead. It was piloted by a guy in brass goggles and aviator leathers—a sight that would have driven Steampunk Me bonkers with excitement.
“Coast is clear,” she muttered. “They’re not following us.” She motioned for me to join her as she started walking. “To answer your question, Earth Zero is the place where lots of Earths—too many Earths—combine into one. People, buildings, animals, technology, and things you can’t even imagine got ripped from their original Earths and dumped here, forced to live side by side.”
Half a block away, a robot barista outside a McStarbucks argued with a black-robed witch about the amount of cauldron smoke spewing from her medieval hut next door.
“But how is all this possible?” I asked.
Resist fished an oversize coin from her pocket and tossed it to a team of break-dancing bishops we passed. “That crack in the sky over the hotel? They call it the Rip. Scientists here think it’s a tear in the fabric between worlds.”
“How did it open up?”
At the corner up ahead, a kid with a tiny dragon on a leash dumped a bottle of water over his pet’s big flaming pile of poop before scooping it into a bag.
“Nobody here knows. But it happened three years ago. Does that timetable sound familiar?”
“That’s when Me Con started!”