Our Last Echoes

by Kate Alice Marshall

“And you really think she might be one of those echoes,” I said. “But in the video with Ashford, it didn’t seem like she was in on any of it.”

  “So she was lying. Or she didn’t know.”

  “An echo is a weaker version of the original. Fading,” I said. “Dr. Kapoor doesn’t seem like a pale imitation of anyone.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You almost sound disappointed.”

  “I’m trying to decide which is worse—my mum being replaced by an evil twin, or my real mum covering up what’s going on here.” He nodded toward the window. “The mist is gone.”

  I sat up, disentangling myself from him, and saw that he was right, though the sky was slate-gray, thick clouds dimming the light. “I should probably go.”

  “Knowing Dr. Kapoor, she’s not going to let a few disappearances get in the way of a full day’s work,” Liam said.

  “I’d almost forgotten I’m doing an internship,” I said.

  “Well, you haven’t actually managed a full day’s work without being set upon by the supernatural,” Liam pointed out. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Your hair’s all mussed,” he said.

  I felt along my braid. It had come loose, snarling out from the careful plaiting. I made a face and combed it out, letting the hair spill in waves over my shoulders.

  “You look quite wild,” Liam said. “Like a mermaid or something.”

  “The kind that’s friends with lobsters?”

  “The kind that lures ships onto the rocks, maybe,” Liam said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Oh, you should,” he assured me. He kissed me lightly, and somehow this time it was a bit awkward. Like we needed to practice saying goodbye. “Be safe.”

  “I can promise careful. I can’t promise safe.”

  “Let’s be honest. We’re talking about you. You can’t promise careful either,” he said. “I should walk you back.”

  “And then you walk home on your own, and I worry about you,” I said. “Vicious cycle.”

  “You aren’t the worrying sort like I am,” Liam said. It was true, and he smiled a little to show that he didn’t think that was a bad thing, exactly. I cared what happened to him, but I didn’t fret the same way.

  “Fine,” I agreed. “My white knight.”

  “Just give me a sec to find socks,” he said, looking dubiously at his luggage. I snorted and stepped out into the hall. I padded toward the front door and had just reached the middle of the hallway when Dr. Kapoor appeared, stepping out from the kitchen. She saw me and froze.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she snapped. I blinked, unsure what I’d done to earn quite so pointed a response. “I told you not to let anyone see you right now. You—” She stopped. Looked at me again, more focused this time. My stomach dropped.

  Liam emerged. “Found ’em,” he declared, waving his socks aloft. “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were home. I— What’s wrong?”

  “You thought I was her,” I said wonderingly. With my hair a mess, with dark hollows around my eyes from lack of sleep and crying—I might have mistaken myself as well.

  Liam’s gaze switched swiftly between the two of us. It would have been comical if the moment hadn’t been so tense.

  “You know about—?” Dr. Kapoor whispered, but she didn’t finish. Didn’t want to be the first to say it outright, I guess, in case she was wrong.

  “The girl that looks like me,” I said.

  “Then it is true,” Liam said. He sounded sick. “You’re . . . you’re one of them.”

  Dr. Kapoor looked baffled. “Don’t be absurd. Of course I’m not—no.” Outside, a car door slammed. She glanced behind her, then fixed me with that intense glare. “You should leave here. It was a mistake letting you come. I thought . . . But it was a mistake.”

  I stepped toward her. “I need to know what happened. What’s happening here.”

  “No, you do not, Ms. Novak,” Dr. Kapoor said. She knew who I was. She’d known all along. “Trust me. Those answers aren’t worth the price that comes with them.”

  “What price? What is this place? What are those things? The girl who looks like me, is she—”

  Dr. Kapoor made a harsh, almost amused sound in the back of her throat. Her voice was pitiless. “The girl who looks like you. Or is it the other way around?”

  VIDEO EVIDENCE

  Recorded by Joy Novak

  AUGUST 14, 2003, TIME UNKNOWN

  The second Sophia stands trembling in the mist, her arms wrapped around herself. Novak makes a sound, not quite a word, a soft “ah” repeated.

  HARDCASTLE: Joy, get away from that thing.

  SOPHIA: Mama? Who is she?

  SOPHIA [2]: Mama, who’s that girl? Why does she look like me? Mama, I’m cold.

  NOVAK: Right. Okay. Okay.

  She steps forward and lifts the mud-stained Sophia into her arms. She begins walking back toward the bunker, limping heavily.

  BAKER: Don’t let that thing in here!

  NOVAK: She’s just a child.

  HARDCASTLE: That thing that attacked us looked just like Carolyn.

  CARREAU: She weighs twelve kilos. I think we can defend ourselves.

  HARDCASTLE: No. Joy, think about your daughter.

  NOVAK: I am. I am bringing her in out of the cold, where it’s safe.

  HARDCASTLE: What—

  KAPOOR: She got lost, Will. None of us was with her. She could have— We don’t know which one is real.

  BAKER: Oh, shit.

  NOVAK: Move out of my way, Will.

  BAKER: No. No way. We can’t—

  Carreau shoulders past Hardcastle, opening enough of a gap for Novak to squeeze through. She walks gingerly to the other end of the hall and sets the second Sophia down near the wall.

  NOVAK: Stay there, sweetie.

  She sets the camera down on a chair that has been left in the hallway. She gives it a short, steady look, and adjusts it fractionally so that it is trained on the people in the hall.

  CARREAU: Get that door closed.

  BAKER: You want to shut it in with us?

  NOVAK: Stop saying “it.”

  Sophia—the first Sophia—has backed up against the wall, staring at her double wide-eyed. The new Sophia tugs on Novak’s sleeve.

  SOPHIA [2]: Mama, who is that?

  NOVAK: That’s—you’re—

  Baker suddenly lunges for Sophia. She grabs the girl by the arm, shakes her.

  BAKER: Which one are you? Which one?

  She seizes the girl’s chin as Novak yells and lunges forward. Sophia shrieks and struggles. Novak cries out in pain and her leg gives out, spilling her onto the concrete floor. Carreau grabs Baker’s arm, trying to pry her free, but she’s still shaking the little girl, yelling.

  BAKER: Which—which—little crawling thing, little sneak, little thief, little stray.

  She twists Sophia’s arm. Sophia howls in pain.

  KAPOOR: Caro!

  BAKER: We have to know!

  Sophia jerks free of her grip and pelts to her mother, who gathers her close and whispers to her. The girl retreats farther, joining the second Sophia. The girls whisper.

  SOPHIA [2]: Who are you?

  SOPHIA: I’m Sophie.

  SOPHIA [2]: I’m Sophie.

  SOPHIA: Oh. Me too.

  Hardcastle has his hands raised, palms out, separating Novak and Baker.

  HARDCASTLE: We can’t lose our heads here. Calm down, Carolyn.

  BAKER: That other me attacked us. That thing is going to do the same.

  KAPOOR: Attacked us?

  NOVAK: Caro . . .

  BAKER: We saw her. We saw her out there and she wasn’t dead. You didn’t manage to kill her, Will, but that’s
okay, Joy took care of it for you.

  She laughs hysterically.

  SOPHIA [2]: I’m scared.

  SOPHIA: Me too.

  Sophia holds out her hand. Her double takes it.

  CARREAU: I thought you said you went—uh. To the . . .

  He clears his throat, a rather liquid sound.

  CARREAU: You said you went toward the beach.

  KAPOOR: We did.

  HARDCASTLE: That’s what we were going to do.

  KAPOOR: That’s what we did.

  NOVAK: You still haven’t explained where you got the gun.

  HARDCASTLE: I don’t know. I don’t remember. We were down by the beach and we saw Carolyn. She attacked us. Maybe she had the gun?

  KAPOOR: No, you picked it up— Where did you pick it up? It was . . .

  She frowns and walks toward the doorway leading to the control room of the bunker.

  KAPOOR: We were here.

  HARDCASTLE: That doesn’t make any sense.

  KAPOOR: Something is messing with our memory.

  BAKER: It’s them. It’s their fault. It’s all going wrong because of them. What are you? Why won’t you listen? Just listen to him, little devil, little rebel, little sneak, little thief, little—lit—lit—tell—tell me—

  Her jaw works side to side in abrupt movements. She chokes, coughs.

  BAKER: No nonono. This one’s not lasting. Oh, God— What’s wrong with me?

  KAPOOR: Oh, my God. She’s . . .

  NOVAK: No. She can’t be. That would mean— But I—

  Baker’s head lolls forward, then snaps up.

  BAKER: No, I’m fine. Fine. Fine fellow. Fellows. Fellowship. Ships. Ships on the ocean, all of us drifting. Listen. Listen.

  She laughs again—and then lunges for Hardcastle with a shriek. She claws at his chest while Kapoor and Novak try to pull her off.

  The newly arrived Sophia looks at the other girl and tugs her hand.

  SOPHIA [2]: Come on.

  She tugs Sophia toward the open door on the left. With a toddler’s impulsiveness, Sophia grabs the camera, hugging it against her chest as the two girls scurry away from the violent scene playing out before them.

  23

  I STARED AT Dr. Kapoor, thoughts wheeling through my head, my careful emotional remove fracturing. Footsteps came up the walk. Dr. Kapoor stepped closer and dropped her voice to an angry hiss. “Go home, Ms. Novak. Go home, and never think of this place again.”

  The front door opened, and William Hardcastle stepped in. Dr. Kapoor gave me a look—a warning look. And a frightened one. Don’t, she mouthed.

  William Hardcastle smiled. “Sophia,” he said in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Ms. Hayes, I’m sorry for everything that’s happening.”

  His voice echoed in my mind. In my memory. I’m sorry.

  My eyes dropped to his hands, hanging easily by his sides. They were large hands. Spade-like, I thought. Strong hands with blunt fingers and light brown freckling across the backs. I knew those hands. I was sure of it now.

  I’m sorry, he’d said.

  They’d been holding me under the water, the day I drowned.

  He was still talking, but all I heard were those two words. Those words, and the hollow sound of water closing over my head. He was sorry. He was so sorry for all of this. His regret was suffocating, and I could only pray that the emptiness of my eyes, my inability to speak, could be excused by the circumstances. Two people missing. Maybe dead.

  “I know that this is a difficult situation, but we’re going to do everything we can to find Lily and Ms. Ryder,” he said.

  I tried to push my fear, my shock away. I needed that numbness. I needed that distance and coldness, but it wouldn’t come, because the cold was the water and the water was all around me, it was in my mouth and it was dragging at my limbs and I couldn’t breathe.

  “Thank you,” I managed, a whisper that left my throat raw.

  He smiled. It made his blue eyes look flat.

  “Liam, why don’t you walk Ms. Hayes back to Mrs. Popova’s?” Dr. Kapoor said pointedly.

  “Right,” Liam said. Anger hummed below the syllable, and for a moment I feared that he would lash out. If he demanded answers from his mother now, Dr. Hardcastle would realize we knew the truth—or part of the truth, at least. And he would be able to put together who I was.

  I took Liam’s hand to pull him away, and to anchor myself. I had to get out of there, and only my grip on him kept me from running as fast as I could.

  I drew him along down the road. We bypassed the car by unspoken agreement. Tension jangled in the air between us. Liam said my name. He sounded concerned. The worrier of the two of us. At least he’d kept it together. Not like me. Not this time.

  “Sophia, slow down.”

  I realized I was walking so fast that Liam could barely keep up. I halted abruptly. Whatever brief respite I’d earned myself was gone now, my fear tangling around me once more.

  The wind stirred my hair, whipping stray strands across my face. I clawed them back behind my ears. There was something wrong with me. Or something wrong with the air. I couldn’t get a deep enough breath.

  “You’re panicking again,” Liam said quietly. He started to reach for me.

  “Touch me and I’m going to fucking lose it,” I warned him. I shut my eyes, but it didn’t help. I saw the water. Saw the boat. Saw Hardcastle’s hand around my wrist, holding so tight it hurt—saw Lily’s hands, closed over mine in comfort.

  I saw her broken on the ground, and I saw the yawning black of the ocean.

  I turned on my heel and strode off the road. We were in a gap between the houses, just a spit of rock and sand and driftwood. It was too gray and nondescript to be beautiful.

  I walked all the way to the edge of the water and two steps farther. Liam called after me again, and I wondered if he thought I would keep walking, the way she had, walk all the way into the sea and let the waves fold over me. It was an efficient way of vanishing.

  But I stopped with cold water lapping over my shoes, up to my ankles. It rushed out and I sank a centimeter into the sand as the water drew away the ground I rested on.

  The girl who looks like me. Or is it the other way around?

  “Tell me I’m real,” I whispered.

  “Of course you’re real,” Liam said.

  I looked back at him. Salt spray pricked my cheeks. “Am I? Or am I one of them? Just an echo? What if she’s the one that’s real?”

  “You’re nothing like those things. What you told me about Mikhail’s echo and that other one—”

  “But she’s not like that either,” I said. “She’s . . . strange. But that doesn’t mean anything, not if she grew up in that place. What if I’m not me at all? What if I’m the monster who stole a girl’s life?”

  “You’re not a monster,” Liam said firmly.

  “Maybe that’s why I don’t feel things properly,” I said. “Maybe that’s why it takes so long for emotions to catch up with me.”

  “Or maybe it’s a natural fucking response to trauma,” Liam said. “Something happened to you here. And you don’t even know what it is so that you can deal with it. I was a complete shit to call you a sociopath, Sophia, especially when I’ve had enough therapy to have my own PhD by now. You’re real. You’re human. You’re you.”

  “I’m not even sure what that means.” I let out my breath, long and slow, and looked out over the water. Dr. Kapoor had chosen a house that faced Belaya Skala. The window of her bedroom, I realized, looked right out at the headland. “They know,” I said. “They know about this place.”

  “You mean Dr. Kapoor and Hardcastle?” Liam asked.

  “I mean all of them. Your mom. Hardcastle. Mrs. Popova. Everyone here knows. They know that Lily isn’t missing, that
she hasn’t fallen down and passed out behind a rock or drowned in the ocean. They know the island took her. Is there even going to be a search? Or will they just send a boat over and wait on the shore long enough to make us think they tried?”

  Liam didn’t answer. I crouched, letting the waves run over my hands. Foam flecked my wrists. Even in the summer, the water was shockingly cold. It had been cold then too. “Hardcastle was there,” I said. “I don’t remember much, but I remember him. There was a boat, and the waves, and he grabbed my wrist and . . .”

  I shuddered. My hands were going numb in the cold water, and I let that numbness seep through me. I wouldn’t be afraid. I wouldn’t give anyone my fear.

  “No one is going to know the truth about what happened to Lily and Abby,” Liam said. “They’re going to think it was some freak accident.”

  “So no one’s going to know it was our fault,” I said. “Lily wouldn’t have been in danger if it weren’t for us.”

  “It’s not our fault,” Liam said. “It’s that fucking island’s fault.”

  From here, it just looked like a lump of rock. Barren and inert. “I don’t understand,” I whispered. “What is that place? Why is it here? Why does anyone stay?”

  “You think Dr. Kapoor will tell us?” Liam asked doubtfully.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “But she sure as hell knows more than we do. She knows the other me. She . . .” I frowned. “Those shells and things on your windowsill. Are they yours?”

  “No. I’m not really the collecting type,” Liam said.

  “But could they be from when you were a kid? Something you left there years ago?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “And there’s no way that Dr. Kapoor has a random shell collection,” I said. He snorted in amused agreement. She hadn’t been surprised to see me—the echo-me—in the house. She’d been annoyed, but not surprised. “She lets my echo stay there. She must. Which means those things belong to my echo.”

  Including the deer, carved so carefully. One of Mikhail’s. If he’d given it to her, it meant he knew too. He didn’t recognize me when I arrived because he knew me as a child. He recognized me because he knew her. He hadn’t told me everything.