The Dead Scout's Handbook of Afterlife Survival

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Two

"We need to ask Martha about this."

Martha lay halfway up the stairs--her crumpled form showed no sign of consciousness and Sarah looked away from Rebecca's indignant glare. "They said they took care of the method of transportation... they must have meant this. They must use the mirrors somehow. Remember that one in Eden with all those chairs? There was one hanging on the front door when they first attacked us in Thermopolis, too. What about here? How did they get through the gate?"

Rebecca considered this then held her arms parallel to the ground.

"The unpainted airplane. Right...," she trailed off in thought, "we need to destroy all these."

Already one step ahead, Rebecca sent the two halves of the staff sailing through the reflective glass. Glittering shards flew around the basement as the shattering blended with the shards sprinkling the concrete below. Lights danced, the raining shrapnel casting jagged reflections about every surface.

Laughter joined the cacophony as the chaos piled up in every corner of the room. The hundreds of mirrors lay pulverized in heaps as Rebecca decimated the countless reflections into a hand-count remaining. Through all the sparkling slivers flying about the firelight, Sarah paused and noticed a towering cheval mirror behind Rebecca, reflecting in an undulating pattern. Like ripples over a pond, the center shifted and a tiny, knobby hand slid through it.

Sarah tumbled backwards on the concrete and opened her mouth but nothing emerged. A gnarled forearm led sopping raven hair, two bowed legs, and a tarred white dress. The deformed little figure hunched behind Rebecca, its other arm still extending into the undulating image. Locking elbows with the girl, a tattered black cloth fluttered through the mirror followed by two feet, an ink cloaked torso, a spine ridden frame, and the shadowed face of Famine herself. Pale fingertips appeared from under the robe and lightly patted the girl on the head. "Thank you, dear," a voice cracked from somewhere within the sable cloth.

Rebecca whirled around to glimpse Famine's thin fingers reaching for her. Both Rebecca and Famine fell to the floor and, having lost her concentration, Rebecca sent the two halves of the staff whizzing in opposite directions around the cellar. A clang echoed off the walls as one half of the staff severed the largest pipe running along the ceiling.

Water gushed from the chasm it left, dispersing around the floor while Famine kept her grasped Rebecca's throat, throwing her around the wet floor, mirror fragments scratching the concrete under her flailing torso. And all the while, the little girl hobbled into the rippling reflection without ever having said a word.

Famine grunted as Sarah lowered a shoulder into her ribcage. Both tumbled to the glass covered floor. In an instant, Famine appeared on the other end of the room, blood dripping from her cloak as she clutched her side and pulled out a long, glittering shard. Famine glanced over to the pooling liquid from the broken pipe then disappeared.

Sarah tumbled from a dull pain in the back of her skull as Famine leaped on top of her with fingernails tearing at Sarah's neck. A stiff kick backward freed Sarah as Famine reappeared in the center of the concrete expanse. She crouched for another sprint.

The percussion of glass ricocheting off glass filled the basement as a tornado of glass shards surrounded Sarah. A similar cyclone enshrouded Rebecca's focused form, her fingertips twirling in unison with the contained whirlwinds.

For only a brief moment, Sarah had respite from Famine's onslaught. Her eyes passed up to the glass enshrouding her, the light rebounding in all directions off the reflective surfaces. While millions of tiny images of the torchlight swirled, and cold waves washed around Sarah's ankles, a particularly large shard passed before her gaze. In that shard Sarah saw herself with vicious eyes staring from matted strands of black hair, while lips, both twisted and thin, shifted with tense jaw muscles. Pale skin shone through three streaks of blood oozing down her face. And from two black circles, her expression softened. She finally understood the gravity of her memory loss.