I lifted my hand to my brow, blocking out the light that seemed to be everywhere at once. It took just half a second to spot another person… and another, and another. Quite a lot of people, actually, all scattered across the sloping hills, tucked under the weird trees, or sitting by the stream as if everything was totally cool. But they didn’t seem very… with it. They were all staring into space, their lips moving in a steady rhythm. The whisper of the cumulative voices drifted across the hidden realm like wind.
Getting up, I dusted off the back of my jeans. A silver, glittery residue clung to my palms, so I wiped harder, sending cascades of powder floating to the floor. Sort of like snow, but not. Sort of like frost, but not.
Trying my best to ignore the bizarreness, I set off to explore. Every footfall made the grass crunch, leaving my distinct footprints. I saw more of these tracks trailing the hills, where people had obviously gone a-wandering. So, why wasn’t anyone walking now? It looked like someone had arranged them in this world the way they wanted them, like dolls or mannequins, then abandoned them. And not one of them seemed to be aware of their surroundings.
Edging down the slope, I spotted a familiar face standing on the stream bank. Dark hair, sourpuss face, fancy clothes—oh yeah, I remembered this girl. Xanthippe. The first to go missing, and the first to launch a discriminatory tirade at me. Gritting my teeth for the anticipated cry of “Get away from me, filthy Atlantean,” I headed toward her. But she didn’t even turn when I touched her arm.
“Xanthippe?” I shook her arm, this time. “Hey, Xanthippe!”
Her eyes stayed fixed on something in the distance as her mouth moved, whispering words I had to lean close to hear. “I’ll follow you. I’m here. I want to hear the music.” I waited for her to snap out of it, but she just kept repeating those three sentences, stuck on a loop. Her eyes were zoned out, entranced.
“Xanthippe!” I screamed in her ear, yanking on her arm. But every time I pulled her, she moved right back into her autopilot position.
Okay, this is freaking me out. I scanned the rest of the people, in search of more familiar faces. There must’ve been thousands of people scattered to the four corners of this place. Some wore modern clothes, so I guessed those were Institute people. However, they were a distinct minority. The rest, from what I could tell, were either re-enactment enthusiasts or… or what? Was it possible that they were actually from an ancient time? Old-timey jerkins and bloomer-looking pants stopped mid-calf. Long cloaks and men in plate armor. Hunched elderly folks in threadbare dresses and tunics.
One of the armored men wasn’t too far away—twenty yards or so. Making a decision, I left Xanthippe to her mantra and made a beeline for the soldier. The glowing orbs closest to him winged away, not wanting to be close to me. I didn’t mind that one bit; I didn’t want to be close to them either. The soldier was less frozen than some of the others, doing a kind of box-step on replay. I gave his sword a wide berth as I approached.
“Hello?” I patted him awkwardly on the back. “Can you hear me?”
The soldier continued to box-step, his chainmail clattering with each move, all the while speaking in an accent so thick, I wasn’t even sure he was speaking English. “Leanfaidh mé thú. Táim ag teacht. Fan liom. Leanfaidh mé thú. Táim ag teacht. Fan liom. Leanfaidh mé thú. Táim ag teacht. Fan liom.”
After a few repetitions, I realized it wasn’t English at all. It sounded Gaelic, but it might as well have been gobbledygook to me. His eyes had the same glazed sheen as Xanthippe’s.
“Am I dead?” Finch and Harley had comforted Persie and me with tales of the afterlife. They’d categorically confirmed its existence, after Persie had had a nightmare about dying. But even they didn’t know what lay in the great beyond, behind the proverbial veil. They knew it existed, because they’d had passed loved ones communicate with them, but there was still no roadmap. Maybe I’d found it. Maybe that was where the door really led.
If this was heaven, it wasn’t for me. And the floating orbs whizzing around made poor and slightly unnerving angels.
Determined to push away my increasing terror, I stepped away from the soldier and headed for a duo of elderly folks, an old man and woman, both drowning in dirty cloaks. Beneath, they wore a tunic and a dress, respectively. The woman carried a basket, while the man had his arm around her, and both had muddied, bare feet. Like they’d walked into a bog. Another strange detail. Where, here, could they have gotten their feet so filthy? The grass couldn’t be drier—it crunched, for Pete’s sake.
This time, I stepped right in front of them. “Excuse me?”
They stared right through me, both chanting the same mantra under their breaths: “I’ll follow you. I’m coming. Wait for us.”
“Who are you following?” I asked helplessly.
The same words repeated back.
“Someone else has to be awake!” I snapped, my nerves jangling. “Hey! HEY! Can anyone hear me? Where the heck are we?!”
Why was I the only conscious person here? Was I supposed to be like them, a glitching statue? A blood-chilling thought snuck into my head. What if I would end up like them? Was it only a matter of time? I had no idea how long I’d even been here.
I decided I’d find someone in modern
