Anna cleared the trees that lined Tyson’s Lake and blinked. Mara’s home was gone. The shining spire and the rolling green lawns were replaced with a wild meadow surrounded by wetlands leading to the shoreline. It was as if Mara had never existed.
“Mara!” Anna screamed out.
She slowed her flight and began to descend when her feet slammed hard against an invisible surface. The sudden impact sent a jolt through her body and knocked the wind from her lungs. She crouched down on an invisible surface one hundred feet above the ground, feeling the curve of the dome beneath her feet and waiting for her head to clear. The moon reflected bright off the lake and lit the small pools of water in the wetlands far below her like silver coins. Anna knew it was a high-resolution holographic image, but the entire landscape looked exactly the same as when she first arrived those many months ago.
Anna slid down the sides of the dome and used her boots to cushion her fall. Once on the ground, she ran her hands along the surface trying to find a seam that would allow her entrance. But the dome was completely sealed. Anna began to pound on its surface and call out to her friend. Minutes passed, and her calls became more desperate until her voice was hoarse and the sides of her hands raw.
“Mara, please. Why aren’t you answering me?” Anna leaned heavily against the invisible wall and slid down to her knees, her face pressed against its cold surface.
Suddenly, Anna felt a small vibration on her cheek, followed by a clicking sound. She looked up. Just feet away, an oval-shaped doorway, no more than seven feet in diameter opened along the side. Mara stood at the entrance. Her shoulders were slumped, and her eyes swollen and red. She’d been crying.
“Mara!” Anna jumped to her feet and ran over. “Why did you lock me out?”
“I’m busy here, Anna,” Mara said, her voice distant.
“I don’t understand,” Anna said.
She looked past Mara to the rolling lawn and the house behind her. A small army of robots were scurrying along the surface of Mara’s home, breaking down sections like a house-build in reverse. The spire was gone. The roof was gone.
“Go home.”
“What’s wrong?” Anna pleaded.
She took a step forward as Mara took one step back. Suddenly, a new fear gripped Anna far worse than the bone-white creatures that had chased her through the midway. This wasn’t Mara. Somehow, she had been replaced by this stranger.
“I’m scared, Mara.”
“I am too.”
“Listen, I came here to warn you. There is something following me. I don’t know what they are or why they’re here,” Anna said. “But I think they may have come from one of the holes. We need—”
“They’re not looking for you,” Mara cut her off. “They’re looking for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I made a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here,” Mara said. Her eyes, now tear-rimmed, reflected moonlight. “I’m not supposed to be anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. You’re supposed to be here with me,” Anna said.
“If only I could. I’d give anything,” Mara said. “But they’re coming for me and when they find me, my life will be erased. I’ll never have existed. And the worst part is, you won’t ever remember me again.”
“Then we’ll fight them together. I won’t let them take you, whatever they are.”
“Please, Anna. Just go home. I don’t have much time. Tell your uncle I’m sorry.”
“No! You tell him yourself. You can’t just give up,” Anna stepped forward. “Not now. What am I supposed to do?”
“Anna, please. You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Mara said.
“Because it doesn’t have to be!” Anna shouted angrily. “Come on. We can figure this out together. We’ve done it before. You know what these things are, right?”
“Anna.”
“If you know what they are, maybe we can find a way to talk to them. Maybe reason with them,” Anna said.
“I don’t know what they are, but I know what they want. They appeared the day I first time travelled and told me I no longer belonged to this world. And they’ve been hunting me ever since. For years, I’ve been hiding. From era to era, from location to location. I had hoped I had found a home here. I really did, Anna. You must know that,” Mara’s voice trembled.
“But you’re going to run again.”
“Yes.”
“So, all your talk about protecting my timeline, protecting me, wasn’t true. It’s never been about me. It’s always been about you. You’re afraid to fight,” Anna said, her hands now bunched in fists.
“Anna.”
“I’d fight for you, Mara. I’d do anything for you. To be with you. I just figured you’d have done the same for me,” Anna said. The full weight of her words broke through any layers of resistance and strength she had carried with her that night and she began to sob uncontrollably.
“I only came out here to say goodbye. I felt I owed you that much,” Mara said.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Anna said through clenched teeth. Her voice barely a whisper. “If you’re going to go. Just go.”
“Goodbye Anna. I’ll never forget you. Please don’t forget me,” Mara said. She paused by the doorway and waited for her friend to reply. But the silence only grew between them like an invisible barrier. Mara paused for one more moment, then stepped back from the edge of the doorway. “Secure all perimeters, SID.”
The doorway closed behind her, leaving Anna alone in the meadow. That was it. It was over. Anna looked from side to side in disbelief then lunged for the section of wall where the doorway stood just seconds before.
“Nooooo!” Anna cried out. “Please, Mara. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose anyone again.”
She pounded the wall until the edges of her hand were bruised blue. Her voice started to fade, raw and hoarse, as the moon tracked across the sky. Finally, she slumped exhausted against the side of the invisible wall. She was past crying and even anger. She felt hollowed out and beaten as she turned away from Mara and flew toward home, past the shoreline where she had once learned to fly, and the trees she had crossed hundreds of times before.