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Rebecca would have been less surprised—less afraid—to find the road giving out behind them; crumbling into a Static abyss, the way it would in the worst of her dreams. After all, in her past, dreams had a pervasive habit of coming true. Unfortunately, the road remained intact, and the glaring spotlit eyes of the pursuing car seemed to penetrate the pumpkin-orange exterior of the RV, piercing through metal and blankets to make its long-awaited incision. Rebecca was no stranger to x-ray vision, and wondered dispersedly if all those tests as a child—all those years with her heart in a glass box—had left her vulnerable to powers such as those of this relentless stalker. Maybe it was all in her head, but that's the last thing she'd believe... after having to swallow such sugar-laced lies for the last 20 years.
The bench seat of Caroline Hunter's pickup truck scarcely held the trio—with Caroline herself stationed at the wheel, Riley frozen to the passenger side, and Rebecca nestled between the two of them. As they soared down the highway, Rebecca's mind flickered back to the cusp of another rapid descent, when such terror likewise gripped her, and she felt certain it would drag her to the stomach of this steel skeleton they scaled. But then, she'd turned to her side to see a tall man... who took her hand as they cleared the apex, and whispered the tale of a falling star.
She stole a glance at Riley, bracing themself for a brutal collision—no doubt replaying the last recorded words of their aunt in their head, superimposing the same sounds which spelled her death over this present chase. Their left knee rose up and down in rapid succession; beside them, a stray car shot past, leaving a shrill wail in its wake. Riley drew in a sharp breath at the sound, and their nails sank into their face for need of something to cling.
Rebecca's hand wriggled through the folds and found Riley's knee, steadying its tremor.
"It's just a fellow shooting star! Up here in space, they're so much easier to come by..."
But stars can burn!
Their right hand unlatched from their cheek and inched forward as if to tap their retort out on the dashboard, only to briskly retreat. No I can't. I just can't!
Riley squealed and covered their eyes. It was their first time on a roller coaster, but Rebecca knew what to say so they wouldn't be afraid. Rebecca had done this before, and conquered a fear of her own. She could take Riley's fear away, and show them how it felt to fly—
"I can still make out the light from where the star flew by. It's not too late to make a wish! Just close your eyes, and think hard... we can do it together! Will you help me?"
Riley blinked, and instinctively conjured up several blank spaces in their mind's eye. Since they were kids, the spaces had been one way Riley made sense of things, a way Kate Park had shown them long ago...
The distraught sound of their aunt's voice still crackled through their head, but wrapped in the grief of this recollection, they discovered their wish. Rebecca had one of her own, and like she said, it would take them both to make it come true. Riley slowly turned, pressed their forehead to hers, and in her upturned palm, traced the letters of their answer.
_ _ _
As Rebecca and Riley shut their eyes, Caroline's gaze remained locked on the road, brows furrowed in determination. Whether it was truly the dregs of Hameln on their tail, or just some random speed demon, she couldn't yet discern, and she'd sooner assume the worst than chance Rebecca's re-capture; she'd put her own life on the line before she let that happen. In many ways, she already had, and she was starting to secretly sense there was some higher power who held the small team in its favor. It hadn't spared David, nor Kate, nor Joanne... but nothing short of a miracle could have saved Rebecca.
Caroline stifled a scream as she choked the wheel. It wasn't fair, what these two had been through—that such generation-spanning evil should survive. For all she knew about the Curtain, and its many twisted incarnations, no inherited record could resolve the question she'd posed since childhood:
Why are they still here?
Her own mother had taken her hands and gently tried to explain. A long time ago, these people were made very afraid. They met a power they couldn't understand, and something crucial was taken from them. Distorted by fear—by grief—they decided the only way to find what they'd lost... was to dig.
They dug through the mountain where it was last seen, and hit rock. They dug up the dry riverbed to find the bones of drowned rats. They dug up their own roots, time and again. They dug through bodies and memories. They dug the hearts out of their ribs, and when they were left with empty chests, they took aim at the hearts of others with their spades.
What was it they lost? Caroline asked, breathlessly.
They don't even know anymore—that's something they've long forgotten. All they know now is that we got something they don't. And that's enough to keep them digging until we're hollow like them. Because they feel at home in holes. They've made a house out of their own open graves, and retreated to valleys like ours—where the lines between worlds are thin—because they think, if they can just dig deep enough, the walls will give out. And then we'll all fall down.
Caroline, incredulous, returned: But don't they know they're part of this world? If it gets destroyed, so will they! Why do they keep digging through us, when we didn't take anything from them?
Her mother sighed, and gently brushed a curl out of her daughter's face. There's too much light in their eyes, baby. They can't even see us.
Caroline saw the truth now, clear as day: the minds of the Curtain were too weak to change anything on their own—to envision a door beyond their ancestral fear. So they stole the eyes of those who saw the world in color, and siphoned the pigments until they saw stars. It was the only explanation she could grasp, but it still answered nothing. What her mother hadn't understood, when she asked that question long ago, was that she wasn't addressing a present infestation. Not even the Curtain members themselves. Something more ephemeral had plagued her then... something that scared her out of her wits in moments like this. It was that vein of fear from deep in time that harrowed her; the power that had driven the cult to dig at all. Caroline knew a similar fear—one of loss, one of terrible grief—which she'd inherited in tandem with the Curtain's history. There were even places where the two intersected.
Yet with all this fear, the Hunters had not sought to end the world, but found solace in cultivating it—a mission in cleaving the vein itself, by virtue of their quest to track and destroy its source. The Curtain was an agent of that source, but its followers were all still human. And that meant that they could die. And that made Caroline far less afraid.
🌌
When Riley Park next opened their eyes, the blazing whiteness which obscured the rearview mirrors had since dissolved to reveal a starlit black sky. They blinked in relief, and then turned to face Rebecca, who beamed as if to say, I told you so!
Something else flickered across the windshield; it faintly resembled static. The stars above appeared to extend silvery threads to each other, connecting the dots; sketching a scene in the sky. As the image came into focus, Rebecca laid her head on their shoulder.
"Wasn't that FUN?" she exclaimed as they stepped off the ride. Riley nodded eagerly, and Kate almost rushed over to ensure they were alright. Rebecca's dad Sam placed a hand on her arm, and she stilled.
"Do you trust Riley?" he asked.
Kate glanced from him to the kids, a glint of fear still fresh in her eyes. "I just want to make sure... I just can really never know..."
"Do you trust Rebecca?"
Kate surrendered a sigh, and Sam brought her close, watching his little girl all the while—secretly terrified to look away.
"From our height, there's a lot we can't see. Believe me, it's taking everything I've got to not go over there, and ask her all those same questions." He brushed a tear from his eye, and smiled as they unfolded. "Mind if I ask you them instead? I don't wanna melt into a puddle over here."
Kate shrugged, and a bated breath escaped her lips. "Sure thing—but can I ask the first one?"
"Shoot."
"... Are you okay?"
(Sam had accompanied the kids, and this ride had been a new adventure for him too)
"Gravity and I may have some catching up to do, but other than that, I think I'm all here." Sam patted his arms, chest, and knees to playfully affirm his answer. "Everything important seems in place, though I sadly seem to have lost my toupee." He stroked his head with an expression of mock sorrow, and Kate failed to stifle a laugh.
"Alright, my turn," he said. "How did it feel to let go?"
(Kate had chosen to back down, for fear of the height)
Kate thought to herself, and her gaze wandered to Riley and Rebecca, who were now admiring the sheer scale of the coaster. Mere minutes ago, Riley had mistaken it for a monster, and Kate had been so ready to usher them away... before they could face their dragon.
"It felt..."
Sam didn't catch her final word. He was transfixed by the radiant smile of his daughter as she spread her arms wide, as if to embrace the colossal creature. He remembered once, when she had been afraid, he'd shown her how to step back from tall things like this, and hold up her hands to create the illusion of them nestled in her palms. They'd played a game on the beach, taking turns "holding" each other this way while standing apart on the sand. The farther they stood, the smaller they became. Once upon a time, she'd asked Sam where she'd find him if they ever got too far away...
"Which way will I look? What if you're too small to see?" Her dark brown eyes shimmered with fear. The seashore was empty now, and the last of the lifeguards had pulled their chairs beyond reach of the tide. Out across the water loomed a dragon, blinking to life as the Sun descended...
"Well, that's easy," Sam said, taking her hand. "See our new dragon friend on the water?" He pointed, and her eyes followed his hand to the boardwalk, to the roller coaster they had ridden earlier.
"Yeah," she sniffled.
"He has a very special job when it gets dark. During the day, he takes people up and down, but when night falls, it's his job to ferry the stars." As he spoke, Sam's arm angled toward the ether. "All the stars up there are really people, but they're so far away that they have to glow for us to see them."
"What are they all doing in the sky?" Rebecca asked.
"I can show you, if you're brave."
"Of course I am!" she laughed, and Sam took her up in his arms.
"Sometimes, people down here get hurt. And some pain is so terrible, the care they need can only be found upstairs." He pointed to the sky to indicate what "upstairs" really meant.
"Who helps them upstairs?" Rebecca chirped, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
"Oh, only the best fairy doctors, star puppies, and aliens in all the galaxy! It's their job to take that pain away, just like it's the dragon's job to make sure people get there safe."
"But aren't there people who slay dragons?" Rebecca said. "Like knights, and princes?"
"Some knights quest, and some knights slay. Sadly, we live in a world where questers are hard to come by."
"What happens when a dragon dies, and people can't get help?"
Sam took in a deep breath, accustomed to these kinds of questions after all their years together, and no less aware of the weight his response would carry in turn. "The pain... sticks around. And when one person hurts, we all do. Except some people pretend they don't, and those people are the most broken of all. Those... are the stars that fell down on their way to the sky."
"Like in the story you told me!" Rebecca gasped. "When WE were coming down." She looked at herself, and then Sam. "But I don't feel broken, and you look all together!"
A flash of jagged light suddenly pierced the sea, echoed by a thunderclap. Rebecca tensed, and then she looked for the stars, obscured by clouds in the distance. "I can't see them anymore!"
"Hey, it's okay. They're just hiding for now. But it can be scary... to not see the stars."
"Did they send the lightning?"
"By the looks of it, yes. I think they're reaching for the broken pieces below."
"How do they know where the broken pieces are?"
"Truthfully, I don't think they do..."
"So even the stars are hurting?"
"... it seems so."
"Because of the knights slaying dragons who only want to help?"
"Yes, and many more things too."
"Daddy, why did we pretend to be falling stars on our way down?"
Sam smiled, and took her tiny hand in his.
"Because our dragon friend has another job... to teach us not to fear the fall."
🌌
"I'm so P R O U D of you, Riley." Kate spelled the letters in their upturned palm, eyes sparkling with tears. "You were so B R A V E today!" she spelled this word too, and the corner of Riley's mouth perked into a lopsided smile.
"I knew they could do it!! I knew it!!!" Rebecca sang with a celebratory twirl. Riley shared a knowing glance with her in turn. It would take some time for them to understand why it made them feel good to be called that way, but Rebecca always knew. She'd always seen the truth of who they were.
"I told Riley the story just like you told me!" Rebecca exclaimed to Sam, who swooped down to lift her up in the air. Rebecca stretched out her arms and pretended to fly. "Did YOU get scared, Daddy?" she teased.
"Only on the way up," Sam winked, "and I think Miss Kate was pretty brave herself!" He furrowed his brows and nodded to her with half-joking sincerity, and Kate scoffed in turn.
"I was scared on the way up, the way down, and I wasn't even on the ride!!!" she retorted playfully. "I'm the one who chickened out."
Lowering his daughter to the ground, Sam reminisced, "On my first-ever roller coaster ride, I WISHED I'd chickened out." With a laugh, he added, "I think Rebecca knows this story—"
"Yesssss," she said mischievously, rubbing her hands together as if cooking up a scheme. "That's my FAVORITE story to tell!"
"Let's spare Sam the flashback, shall we?" Kate smirked. "Now, who wants ice cream?"
Rebecca and Riley's hands shot up in the air simultaneously, and upon realizing this, each of them took turns jumping to exceed the other's height.
"I'm almost touching the stars!" Rebecca exclaimed.
I'm almost touching the MOON, Riley thought eagerly.
"Maybe one day we can ride all the way there, right Daddy? I think this dragon's tall enough to do it!"
"Can't argue with tha—" Sam began, only to be briefly drowned out by the rumble and screams of the dragon in question soaring past with its new passengers. Sam stood frozen mid-word for several seconds thereafter, as Kate and the kids fought to stifle giggles. Once it had dipped out of sight once again, he pointed to the 'dragon' warily. "I think that's our cue to skedaddle."
"You don't say," said Kate, smoothing back her coaster-tousled hair.
Back on the boardwalk, Rebecca and Riley walked ahead, hand-in-hand. "Can you still remember how it felt?" she whispered. Riley nodded, their twin braids bouncing with the motion of their head.
"I can still imagine it!! It's like we're still on the ride... maybe, if we close our eyes, we can be there again, just for a moment. Will you imagine with me?" Riley eyed her skeptically, and Rebecca stole a quick glance back at the adults, who were still catching up to them. "Don't worry! Daddy and Miss Kate will keep us from walking into the ocean!" she laughed. Riley still seemed unsure, and Rebecca sighed. I guess it's just me this time.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to walk forward. Here's Amanda the Adventurer, imagining she's putting on the safety bar. She felt the cool weight of the metal settle over her. Here's Amanda looking up to the dragon—it's the tallest one she's ever seen, but she's not scared! This time, she knows that she's headed for the stars. And if she falls... The illusion wavered, then came back into focus, clearer than ever. She won't be afraid! The stars will look for her again! No matter how many pieces it takes... to put her back together.
(This, she knew for sure. Few could say they had fallen before)
Here's Amanda realizing… she’s not alone on this ride.
To her surprise, Rebecca sensed a tear trailing down her cheek. That wasn't part of the memory... was it?
On her right sat someone familiar. They waved to her shyly, the golden glow of the brimming sunrise reflecting off their deep brown skin, illuminating that lopsided smile she'd missed so much...
On her left sat a woman she'd met in a dream, or maybe just long ago... a woman she thought she'd lost, once upon a time. This woman pulled her into a hug, and whispered the words of a magic spell.
I am so proud of you.
When she drew back to behold her, Rebecca saw the starry night sky reflected in her glasses. The starperson on her right wrapped their arms around hers, and nestled into the crook of her neck. Rebecca felt the softness of their hair, the warmth of their freckled cheek. Then the starwoman beside her knit her fingers through those of Rebecca's left hand. Just beyond the dashboard, the street itself seemed to curl toward their fellow constellations.
The dragon commenced its slow ascent. And they didn't let go.