Traveler (Traveler #1)(64)

“You okay?” Finn says, coming up behind me.

I nod, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “Just homesick.” I give a watery laugh. “It feels so weird to hear. And talk.”

“A big mouthful of glitter mousse might help the situation,” he says.

“Lead the way.” I slide my hand into his, and we walk down the hammered chrome staircase with the eye-burning fuchsia carpet and out through the multicolored front room with the rotating chrome fireplace.

I’m relieved to see that the street looks nearly normal. The exteriors of the houses are a lot more flamboyant, and the cars look like something out of a 1950s sci-fi movie about the future, but we’re able to find our way to Mugsy’s without too much trouble.

We get our mousse and slide into the booth. I don’t even bother waiting till I’ve sat down—I pull a huge dollop off with my finger and cram it in my mouth.

I roll my eyes in ecstasy, not bothering to say how good this is. Finn knows. And he’s right; I do feel a little better. I wish I could bring some of this back for my mom and my brother. I’m not sure if Danny would try it because it looks strange, but he’d love it if he did.

“You want a refill?” Finn asks, pointing to my nearly empty bowl.

“I do, but I’m also debating the merits of a cupcake.” I hope other me can forgive me for sabotaging her diet this once. I need it.

“Why don’t I go get both, and we can share them?” Finn suggests.

“It’s obvious to me why I like you.” I grin.

“Be right back.”

Finn makes his way to the counter, and I spend a moment looking at the outrageous posters on the wall. Apparently, clowns are a major thing in this reality, and they all look demented in the posters. I cannot suppress a shudder.

My fingers are sticky from the glitter mousse, so I walk back to the bathroom to wash them before I add a layer of frosting. I’ve just finished drying my hands and I’m opening the door when it’s suddenly shoved in from the other side. My mind barely has time to register the intruder before I’m pushed back and spun around, falling into the polished chrome wall.

I let out a sound of protest because I’m surprised, but my eyes are on the sparkling, gloved hand with all its bracelets and jewelry that comes down to hold my palm flat against the wall. My startled eyes lock on my reflection next to it. Before I can get my bearings, I feel a mighty push from behind, and then the grip on my arm breaks.

I am through. And I am all alone.





36

Walking on the Moon

The landscape around me is an endless sea of gray. It’s unrelenting. Everywhere you look, there is almost nothing to break up the monotony. If my lungs weren’t frantically sucking in air, I’d think I landed on the surface of the moon.

I guess I just met the other Traveler. And I think it’s a woman. A very strong woman, apparently.

Where is Finn? Does she have him? I glance around frantically, but neither of them are anywhere in sight. No one’s in sight. I am completely and utterly alone.

I get to my feet, rubbing my arms for comfort, and also because it’s really, really cold here. The sky is overcast, and it looks like it might rain any minute.

I am standing next to a trickle of a creek, but it’s clogged with garbage and chunks of charred wood, forming a stagnant pool. The water has a greasy coating. I can barely see myself, but I might be able to see well enough to use it. It’s hard to tell with the hazy cloud cover darkening the sky.

I have no idea where I am, but the Traveler doesn’t appear to have followed me. I crouch down next to the pool, holding my breath so I don’t have to smell it. I reach out, clear my mind, and touch the murky, swirled reflection showing in the water.

My hand slides into a slick of goo and I pull it back, shaking the nastiness off it and wiping it against my jeans. Gross.

I take a deep breath, really concentrating this time, and I nearly fall in, trying to push through the water. I try one more time, willing myself to the other side, to Finn, and still I am here. Wherever “here” is.

I stand up, looking around, but I don’t see a house or a business or anything that could possibly have a better mirror. And since I’m not smart enough to have thought to keep one on me—I make a mental note to do that from now on—I’m going to have to walk until I find something. I decide to follow the creek, hoping to find clear water somewhere, but it dries up not far from where I was.

I feel like I’m making pretty good time. A glance down at myself shows that I’m wearing what I wore at Mugsy’s, instead of whatever I’d be wearing here, which means—I guess—that there is no me here. So the Traveler pushed me through to a reality I don’t exist in. I’m also standing out like a sore thumb in head-to-toe gold and fuchsia.

I pick up my pace, wondering how long it’s going to be before the Traveler finds me. Off to one side I see the only thing that could pass for cover. It looks almost like a landfill of some kind, made up of large piles of garbage and felled trees. It almost looks like a tornado was through and leveled a town and they pushed all the rubble into a long, long pile that stretches as far as I can see. I need to get on the other side of it, because the Traveler could be following, and soon.

Maybe I can find a broken mirror in the pile if I look. I just need to find a clear reflector to get me out of here. Murky, possibly diseased water is probably not the best way to go about this.