Chapter 4
419 Words
4
Halli led me into a small clearing. And there it was: a normal-looking campsite with a tent and a campfire and all that. Not that I’ve ever camped, but it sure looked like any picture of it I’ve ever seen. No human skulls lying around, no scraps of flesh where maybe the dog had tricked someone else into thinking he was friendly, then ripped the intruder to shreds.
Halli opened the door to her tent and dove in. She backed out again holding an armful of clothes. “Here,” she said, “put these on. Right away.”
Warm black pants, fuzzy red jacket, thick gray socks. All in my size, of course.
While I pulled on her extra clothes, Halli hefted over an armful of logs and then coaxed her campfire back to blazing.
“There,” she said, sitting down across from me and stretching her fingers over the flames. “Warm yet?”
“Almost.” The dog was certainly doing his part. As soon as I finished dressing, he lay down as close as he possibly could to me, rested his chin on my lap, then closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
Halli shook her head. “He doesn’t do that with anyone except me.” She looked me straight in the eye. “But I guess it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“I think so,” I answered.
“Then would you explain to me how?” she asked. “And who—or whatever—you are?”
“I’ll try in a second,” I said. “But can you tell me something first? Is this . . . Earth?”
“Yes.” But from the look on her face she obviously thought the question was strange.
“Where are we? I mean, specifically, on Earth.”
“It’s called Colorado.”
“We have Colorado, too,” I said excitedly. “I mean, I’ve never been there, but we have it.”
“Who’s ‘we’? What exactly are you?”
It was kind of a rude question to keep asking, but I couldn’t blame her. “I’m just a girl,” I said. “Like you. We have Earth, too. I think it’s just . . . a different one.”
She started to say something, but I cut her off.
“I promise I’ll try to explain in a minute, but can you just tell me what the date is? Please?” I wanted to make sure I hadn’t gone backward or leapt forward somewhere in time—because that would open up a whole new set of possibilities. And a whole other set of problems. Not that this set was going to be easy.
September 22nd. Same date and year as when I’d left this morning.
I let out a breath. My brain was going a billion miles a minute. But it all boiled down to this: Professor Hawkins was right. Parallel universes really do exist. And I’d found one. Same Earth, same time, same identical features.
Except for one thing.
“But you’re not Audie Masters,” I said.
“No, I’m Halli Markham. And now it’s your turn,” she said. “Tell me everything you know.”
- Writer
