The Fall of Never(129)

She found herself whispering, “Simon…”

Two eyes locked with hers; they were the first things she saw. They were blue and piercing, deflecting the moon glow like polished ice. Yet they were low, close to the ground…

“Come out.” She wanted to sound forceful but her voice cracked.

The eyes moved and Kelly followed them in the shadows. Briefly, they vanished in the darkness, only to reappear several inches closer. Its body was still hidden in darkness, yet she could sense the enormity of it moving and shifting around her. Like an embrace, its warm, fetid breath accosted her, wrapped around her. Intelligent eyes…yet not the eyes of a human being. Nor the eyes of anything trying to mimic a human being.

“Come out,” she repeated, her voice a bit sterner.

The eyes passed before a bar of moonlight across the path. A silver-gray pelt covered its face, the muscular slope of its back. It was a dog. It was the dog, the injured one from all those years ago. And was what she was seeing even real, or was this some ghost, some memory-induced phantom brought to life by preternatural means?

The beast cocked its head to one side, its eyes thoughtful and frighteningly knowledgeable. Its injured front paw was tucked beneath the billowing fur at its chest. As if trying to communicate, the animal began emitting a high-pitched whine that reminded Kelly of squeaking hinges.

Unable to move, she could only watch the animal as it, in turn, watched her. It was real enough. And she knew that if she reached out to touch it her fingers would be greeted by sleet-dampened fur. Was this another trick?

“Get lost,” she yelled at it. “Go on—you’re not real. Get going.”

The dog swung its head around to the side and hobbled off the side of the path. It disappeared into the darkness of the forest. For several moments after it became invisible, Kelly could still hear it slowly impel itself through the confusing thicket of the forest. She stood there, deep within her own silence, until the labored, stumbling sounds of the dog stopped. And a moment after that, she was already questioning the validity of its appearance.

Ahead, the red beacon seemed to intensify. Yes, there was no doubt about it—she was anticipated, expected and long overdue.

If you think I’m afraid, she thought, then you’re sadly mistaken.

She jumped, a piercing laugh ringing through the center of her brain. Before her, the world began to shift and challenge reality.

—You have no idea, a sharp voice barked inside her mind.

Driven, she pushed forward along the path. Further down, trees leaned in her way, their branches touching from either side of the path. Heedless, she pushed through them, feeling them prick and scrape her face, the back of her neck. A sharpness jabbed at her forehead and she felt a warm slick of blood dribble down her face.

—How much can you handle, Kellerella? How much do you really think you can deal with? Because not all of this is just in your head. Not all of what you’re about to see is make-believe. Not everything here is part of Never. Some of it is very, very real. So how much can you take?

“Fuck you,” she breathed, pushing on.

—It’s been a long time. You’ve changed. You’re not the same little girl you once were. But you want to know something? I’m not the same thing I used to be, either. Like you, I’ve changed.

“I’m not afraid.” But her voice shook. She found she could not think of anything—dared not, for fear that her newfound well of childhood memories might come to life and bring about her own downfall. “I’m not the one hiding. Why don’t you come out and face me if you’re so powerful? Why don’t you show yourself to me right now?”

—A proper reunion. Don’t spoil it for me. I’ve been waiting so long to do this right.

And despite her words, she sensed no fear in its voice, unlike her own.

—You can’t lie to me, can’t trick me, Kellerella. I’m you and you’re me. We’re the same. We share the same mind. I am your mind. You can’t lie to me, stupid girl. You can’t trick me.

Eyes pressed closed, she shook the voice from her head. From behind her eyelids, she could still see the throbbing red light, beckoning her. Almost teasingly. Opening her eyes, she pushed on through the path. Or what was left of the path: this deep, it had become overgrown with forestry and impeded her passage. To her right, she could hear the soft gurgle of the brook, apparently unfrozen despite the cold. She thought of it flowing with blood and felt a mist of shivers rise through her spine.

Close enough now, she could actually feel the heat from the red beacon at her face. She crossed over a deadfall, heard something small and quick scamper off into the shadows, and footed up the small incline slick with ice. Her breath whistled through her tightening throat. Grappling with weeds for a handhold, she pulled herself up and over the incline, and half-slid down the other side, her fingers frozen and numb.

Though still veiled by the arms of many trees, she could now partially make out the house. Its puerile silhouette sat before the black density of the forest behind it, the pulsing red light issuing through the open doorway. She stood and stared at it without moving, almost without breathing. She’d known it would be here…yet found that she was unprepared for it. Dark and ill-defined, it was still possible to convince herself of its unreality, of its nonexistence, of its falsity.

—Welcome home, Simon whispered. And he was hardly alone: she could make out the indistinct jumble of a chorus of voices, all speaking cluttered nonsense in unison. How strong had Simon really become?