Chapter 13: That Fatal Kiss

(December 30, 2015)

It was past three in the morning. Skyping from Hawaii and speaking gravely, Ford said, "You both realize this is a huge risk."

Holding Wendy's hand, Dipper said, "Yes, sir."

"Got it, Dr. Pines," Wendy said. "But if the alternative—"

"The aliens would inevitably erode your wills. With control of your bodies, they could rebuild a nest and propagate, even gain physical form. And they'd have all your knowledge and skills."

"Then," said Wendy, "we gotta try it."

Wendy and Dipper sat in front of a computer in Ford's office. Away off in Hawaii, Ford looked terrible—his brown eyes red-rimmed and ravaged, a heavy dark five o'clock shadow on his chin, his hair messed up. "I—I wish there were some other way. But at least we have a chance. You have a chance. But we must move quickly. Another day, and—"

"We'd be gone," Dipper said.

Ford nodded.

"Dr. Pines," asked Wendy, "why can't these things just control us now?"

Ford shook his head. "I have a theory, but it's best not to tell you at this point. I suspect that what you know, they know. Later, I'll bring you up to speed. Are you two going to be all right until—until Fiddleford's ready?"

Dipper squeezed Wendy's hand. "As long as we're together."

Ford smiled—not happily, but with a gloomy kind of pleasure. "You're a fine young couple. I'm sorry I got you into this by not giving you more explicit instructions."

"Not your fault," Dipper said. "We had to deal with what was happening and we did it the best way we could. But—why the Shack?"

"Because it's a strong point of weirdness. The unicorn barrier would protect it if these things were physical—but, contained as semi-independent intelligences within your psyches, they can penetrate the force field. As soon as I return, I'll have to make some—but I won't say anything else. We don't know what's going to happen."

Dipper heard a phone ringing, and Ford looked to the side. "I have to take this. If you'll be all right, I'll check back with you later. Give me a few minutes."

Dipper nodded, and the screen went blank.

"This is kinda screwing up your plans for college," Wendy said.

"No. Don't even think about stuff like that. Anyway, we'll get through this," Dipper told her. "We always have before."

His arm twinged and throbbed as though he'd just felt an electric shock. "What was that?"

"Dunno. Your arm jerked on its own. Whoa!" Wendy had suddenly snapped her head back, away from Dipper. "Dude, I think they're trying to make us separate!"

"Hang on!"

"I'm not letting go!"

"That's a girl, Red! I'm in here pitching, too! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Dipper's elbow locked, and his grip tightened so much he worried he was hurting Wendy. "Bill! What are you doing?"

His own voice answered him: "Saving your sanity, kids! There's a little wormy jerk in your head trying to take it. It didn't know you had company! Hey, I'm on your side, Pine Tree! Your mind goes, I go with it! Hang on, Red! Hang in there!"

Between clenched teeth, Wendy said, "Don't—call—me—'Red!'"

"Sorry!" Dipper said. "It's not me, it's—"

"I know, Dip! Still!"

"That's my ice queen!" Dipper heard himself say. "I love how tough you can get! These things don't understand love and hate. Keep feeling both of them, Red! Get mad at me! It helps!"

It was strange, like passing a phone back and forth, taking turns talking. "You don't know anything about love!" Dipper said.

"Fair point, fair point, it's a difficult concept for a galactic overlord like me, but I do know it's helping. Think of kissing and cuddling with Red here! Think of getting jiggy! Is that the right word? I think I got that from Stanley!"

"That's private, you pointy jerk!" Wendy said.

"Yes, yes, let your hate flow!" Bill exulted. "Come over to the dork side! Ah-ha-ha-ha! See what I did there?"

Dipper said, "He is so annoying!"

Wendy nodded. "Yeah, but—the twitches have stopped."

Dipper realized he was gasping for air. "Yeah, they have."

For a few seconds they relaxed just a little, not that they loosened their grips. They still held hands as though their lives depended on it, and maybe they did.

"Guys!" Mabel's voice. They both looked around, Wendy over her left shoulder, Dipper over his right. Mabel had come down the stair from the gift shop and stood in the doorway. "I gotta tell you. You have to know!"

"What's wrong, Sis?" Dipper asked, trying to make his voice lighter than his mood.

Mabel ran up to them and hugged them both. "I overheard. I eavesdropped. What McGucket is going to try—it's all fire! That's the only way to fight these things!"

"We know," Wendy said. "Ford and Fiddleford have put their heads together to come up with something."

"Whatever it is, we've got to do it," Dipper said. "If not, these things will break loose in the world."

"But—fire—it's so dangerous!" Mabel said. "Don't do it! Just—just keep holding on to each other until they can figure out something else!"

"We couldn't do it," Dipper said. "We'll have to sleep sometime."

"Super Glue!" Mabel said. "Something!"

Dipper heard himself say, "Sorry, Shooting Star. They lose consciousness, they never wake up again as themselves. Say, meant to ask, never got around to it, how'd you like the bubble? Totes dope, am I right? Think I got that expression from Soos, dawgs!"

"Bill?" Mabel asked, jumping back. "You big three-cornered liar! Wait, I thought you were Billy Sheaffer now!"

"They seek him here, they seek him there, those Pines they seek him everywhere! Is he in hell or in the sky, that demn'd elusive Cipher guy? Bwah-ha-ha-ha! See, it's like the Scarlet Pimpernel. The, uh, the Scarlet—aw, nobody reads the classics any more. I'm here, Shooting Star, and I'm there! It's probably quantum. Hey, get this: I can only speak through Pine Tree because he glugged down a pint of Fiddleford's coffee. That really perked me up! That's a joke, girl! Coffee! Perked! I pitched it, but it went right over your hea—"

Dipper had been struggling. He blurted, "Shut up, Bill!"

The computer screen came to life again, and Ford said, "Everything's ready. Go upstairs, follow Fiddleford's instructions, and good luck. Don't stop holding hands. We're all with you."

They went upstairs, side by side, Mabel right behind them trying to persuade them not to go through with whatever crazy plan Fiddleford and Ford had come up with.

McGucket paced the gift-shop floor, nearly looking like the wild-eyed loon of old. Well, he was a little neater, with a trimmed beard, and no longer barefoot, but the same look in those crazy eyes. "I really hope this works," he muttered, scratching his head. "Ford told me on the phone he'd done talked to you-all. I have to ask, now, mind. Are you goin' into this of your own free will?"

"Yes," Dipper said.

Wendy nodded in agreement. "Let's do it."

"And you realize it's a risk?"

"Yeah," they both said in unison. Mabel whimpered.

"Okee-dokee. Come on out with me. It's right cold, but you won't need no jackets."

They stepped out. The parking-lot lights had been switched off, but a ring of fire twenty feet across provided a flickering yellow light—a ring encircling the blasted spot where the flamethrower had evaporated the droll nest. The flames weren't high, maybe a foot and a half, but they shone bright in the darkness.

Dipper looked up. The sky overhead had cleared, black velvet spangled with stars. He didn't say, but thought, Whatever happens, keep Wendy safe, please.

I got that, Dipper. Whoever up there's listening, take care of my guy.

—Love you, Wendy.

Back at you, Dipper.

They stopped three feet away from the dancing flames. "All right," Fiddleford said. "Now, this here's my flaminating firemajiggy fulminator. It's like that song by old Johnny, a ring o' fire. It's just only on pilot-light mode now. What you gotta do is get into the very center of it. You can hurry through the flames quick-like and not get burnt to a cinder like the first flapjack, you know how you always got to throw the first one away? Where was I? Stand right smack in the middle, and don't let loose of each other. When I throw the switch, it's good night, Nelly! The whole circle fills plumb up with fire at a thousand degrees Celsius. I gotta time it exact. Maybe I can burn them things out with a flash and kill the flames quick-like. Y'all hold your breaths when I give the word, and I'll do my best. But if I'm even half a second off—"

"We get it," Dipper said.

"Are you crazy?" asked Mabel "You'll die!"

"Mabes, it's OK," Wendy said. "Ugh! I feel that thing trying to stop me! We gotta do this quick. This is the only way." She swallowed. "Listen, if—if something goes wrong—tell my Dad what happened. Say I love him. And tell him I loved Dipper."

Dipper felt his heart quailing inside him. "And—Mabel, you tell Mom all about Wendy and me. Everything. And tell Mom and Dad I love them. And, you know—Mystery Twins forever."

"No!" Mabel said. "I won't let you go!"

Fiddleford seized her shoulders. "Better skedaddle while you got the gumption," he said. "I'll hold Mabel."

He really had to struggle, because she tried to break away from him. Dipper felt his legs twitching as they walked toward the flames, and Wendy stumbled a little. Dip, these things are tryin' to stop us.

—Don't let them. I love you so much!

They hesitated at the edge of the flame circle, fire dancing up to their knees. "I love you," Dipper said aloud.

"See you on the other side, man," Wendy said, her voice now surprisingly firm. "Let's go. Dance into the fire!"

They leaped through the flame barrier, the blaze licking their legs but doing no serious harm. They stood in the center of the crater, breathing hard, fighting the urge to bolt and run back to safety while they could.

"Ready!" Fiddleford yelled.

Dipper pulled Wendy close, and she kissed him, fiercely, holding him tight.

Mabel, breaking free, ran toward them, screaming, "Nooo!"

"Deep breath and hold it!" Fiddleford touched a remote.

And the inferno roared up, filling the entire circle, engulfing Dipper and Wendy in a searing, blinding rush of flame.