“Sshhh,” Swan said as she shook her head, and I felt like I saw genuine sadness as she continued to stare into Crow’s eyes. “It doesn’t work like that. What happened to your daughter is irreversible.”
“No. It’s unforgivable, but not irreversible,” he said. “What I’m doing is going to work.”
“What kind of a father experiments on his own child?”
“No no no!” Crow screamed. “The mechanism is resetting now. We’re going back to how things were.”
Swan shook her head. “No. By manipulating things the way you have, you’ve destroyed the integrity of this dimensional stream. Every single soul connected to these events is going to disappear. Forever, just like your daughter. The Radiants are agitated. This world is dying.”
“Lies!” Crow spat, and he turned and lunged at Swan, his face twisted, eyes full of rage. But Swan was blindingly fast, and before Crow was able to reach her, she’d pulled out a gun and shot him in the face.
The twins didn’t even blink. They just stepped back in perfect unison as Crow’s body folded to the ground at their feet with a muted thud.
Swan turned to face us.
“Hello, Swan,” Emily said.
“Emily,” Swan said. “It’s been a while.”
“You two know each other?” I asked.
Swan looked at me and then turned to Emily. “This must be hard for you.”
“What are you talking about?” I said.
The room started shaking violently again.
“When is it going to stop?” I asked.
Swan turned to look at me, a pained expression on her face. “A universe doesn’t die like a person.” She looked down at Crow’s body, lying twisted on the ground. “It’s not light fading from a cage of blood and bone. It’s billions of years of starfire and wonder.”
I shifted my weight, and the shaking just about knocked me over. Emily grabbed my shoulder and stopped me from falling.
“I’d say you’ve got about an hour before the end,” Swan said.
“The end of what?” I asked.
“Of everything,” Swan said as she shook her head. “I tried to warn you.”
“There has to be something we can do,” I said.
Swan sighed. “The Radiants have fallen too far out of alignment.”
“So there’s nothing?”
“Maybe if you could win the game,” Swan said, “but at this point it’s corrupt, and no longer functioning properly.”
“So, what’s going to happen now?” I asked.
“When this dimension dies, every soul currently connected to the stream will be lost—all of their memories, lives, and families gone forever. And after that, each connected stream will fall into this one, then the others, like dominos. And then…the end of everything.”
“Could you do it?” I asked Swan. “Could you win the game somehow? Realign the Radiants?”
Swan shook her head. “I’m sorry, but without Worricker’s game in working order, I have no idea how to manipulate the Radiants to reset the mechanism. This world dies today. If you close your eyes, I can make it fast.”
“What happens if we don’t close our eyes?” I asked.
“This,” she said.
And then the world went black.
43
YOU CAN’T HOT-WIRE A FUCKING PRIUS
I woke up in darkness.
“Emily?” I called out as I stumbled to my feet. “Hello?”
“K?” Emily said.
I rushed over, following the sound of her voice, and smashed my knee into something solid. My eyes had adjusted a little bit and I could see what I’d banged into.
I knew where I was.
I hurried over to the front door, fumbled for the lights, and finally switched them on. We were standing in the familiar cool fluorescent glow of the Magician’s arcade.
“Where the fuck are we?” Emily said.
“Arcade,” I said.
“What arcade?”
“We’re still in Seattle, close to my place.” I looked out the windows. It was dark outside. For some reason, I’d always imagined the world would end in the daytime. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Nine,” Emily said as she sat down on the floor and leaned back against the machine I’d banged my knee on. It was an old Atari game called Night Driver.
“Are you okay? How’s your shoulder?” I sat down beside her.
“It’s fine,” she said as she moved a few inches away.