A/N: And we're back! A huge thank-you to all my viewers, reviewers, favouriters and followers!
After much thought and careful consideration, I have decided to give up on the subterfuge - thanks in part due to the fact that one sharp-eyed reader has spotted the thread and realized what we're crossing over with. So, wonder no more!
As Kraven the Hunter discovered, this story is in fact a crossover with (drumroll) THE PARK.
Yes, Funcom's The Park.
For those of you who don't know what The Park is, there's a reason why I haven't sorted it into it's appropriate crossover section: we don't have a section for it on this website.Yes, really... though there is another facet to the game that most people haven't noticed - an expanded universe, if you will. As for why I picked it for a crossover with Gravity Falls, you'll soon see.
Meanwhile, if anyone wants a bit of comedy, I recommend watching Markiplier's playthrough: Markiplier is nothing short of hilarious when he's baffled.
Anyway, it's time we got this show on the road:
Feel free to provide lovely long reviews detailing your opinions, your critiques, your recommendations and predictions of the future. I'm not just suggesting this out of narcissistic desire for attention, but because I genuinely want your perspectives. See, I've been separated from the bulk of my files in the last few days and I'm not likely to see them again for another week, forcing me to hastily upgrade an old draft of this chapter for today's update. Detailed analysis of chapter quality would be deeply appreciated, because at the moment, my skin is crawling off my body in anxiety.
Also, are the codes making much sense? I'm trying a new format, as I might have mentioned before.
(ahem) Without further ado, the latest chapter! Read, review, and above all, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Gravity Falls is still not mine, and neither is the The Park and its expanded universe.
This chapter's soundtrack of choice is Lauren Winter's Main Theme, by Normand Corbeil.
In the shell-shocked silence that followed Lorraine's miraculous resurrection, Stan, Ford and Mabel were left staring in shock at the space that she and Dipper had once occupied – at the now vacant bed and the bloodstain she'd left on it.
For the longest time, the three of them were simply too stunned to move, and even after the surprise had faded, only one of them was moving especially quickly: Ford had been shoved aside as Lorraine catapulted herself across the room (and was still limping anyway), Stan had gotten knocked flat on his back during the duel with the giant, and Mabel was pinned to the ground by the body of a crawling monster flung across the room during Lorraine's brief tussle.
However, she was the first to recover: kicking upwards with all her might, she finally levered the body away from her and clambered to her feet, followed closely by Stan and Ford. Then, before Stan could stop her, she took off, launching herself out of Room 13 and out onto the parking lot.
Mabel wasn't moving as fast as Lorraine and probably wouldn't have been able to keep up with her even after a few jugs of Mabel juice and a full night of sleep; then again, most horses would have had trouble keeping pace with the formerly-dead woman now hurtling through the charred trees. Nonetheless, on Mabel went, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her.
Stan followed as best as he could, but he was still winded and – as much as he hated to admit it – not as fast as he'd been in his younger days, and soon found himself outpaced by both Lorraine and his grand-niece.
"MABEL, WAIT!" he hollered after her.
"I'VE GOT TO RESCUE DIPPER!" she shouted back.
"I KNOW, JUST HOLD UP A SEC! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S OUT THERE! WE'LL FIND HIM TOGETHER!"
But by now, Mabel was already out of earshot and getting steadily further away.
In the end, Stan's breath ran out long before he could reach the end of the parking lot, and though he did his best to rally, he soon found himself bent double and wheezing for breath as Mabel vanished into the distance, unable to do much more than curse himself for not being quick enough to grab her as she'd left the room.
A few seconds later, Ford caught up with him, hobbling on his injured knee and using less-than-visionary language as he staggered into place. For some reason, he was also holding Lorraine's backpack.
"Does Mabel still keep a walkie-talkie with her?" he panted.
"Not anymore, and anyway, I don't think she'd have had one with her when she left the house. I mean, they're not like her grappling hook."
"Pity. I might have been able to rig up a communicator for her if she did."
"Ah, coulda, woulda, shoulda. Come on, Ford, we've gotta get after her."
"Correction: you've got to get after her."
Stan blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not up to running any marathons right now, Stanley; I'll only slow you down. You need to go on ahead of me, try to follow her tracks if possible. I'll see if I can find another way of getting home."
"And how are you supposed to manage that, Poindexter?"
"The same way I manage everything else I don't know enough about: I ask questions and look for libraries." Ford grinned in spite of himself. "The latter most commonly. You'll be fine, Stanley: just go after her. And if all else fails, try to find Lorraine again – chances are Mabel will catch up with her sooner or later."
Stan looked from Ford's comforting smile to the charred remnants of the monsters that had burst into the realm; in the end, he could only do his best not to look too incredulous. "With these things out there?" he demanded.
"Well, Dipper and Mabel have been against worse odds. We have to have a little faith in them by now."
"That doesn't change the fact that they're still just kids, Ford." He sighed. "Any advice for dealing with whatever's out there while you're back here, trying to interview monsters?"
By way of a reply, Ford handed him Dipper's magnet gun, dislodged from his hands when Lorraine had grabbed him.
Then, after a moment of thought, he also handed over Lorraine's 45-calibre handgun – the one Stan had hastily kicked under the bed before Dipper could get a good look at it. After several seconds of rummaging through the rest of her luggage, Ford also provided Stan with three additional ammo clips, a well-used combat knife, a taser, a reel of piano wire and one grenade.
"Holy hell," Stan muttered. "Just as well Mabel didn't take anything. Who was this chick, anyway? A hitman? A serial killer?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. I'm wondering more about why she bothered to bring all this paraphernalia with her; after all, the magical powers she utilized should have made conventional weapons pointless, so what was the point of all this?"
Stan didn't want to think about it either: he knew there'd been something horribly wrong going on in that wrecked motel room long before he'd gotten a look at the pentagrams drawn in blood. There'd been a very good reason why he'd made sure Dipper and Mabel hadn't looked too closely at Lorraine's body; even after everything they'd seen during their time in Gravity Falls, there were still some things he'd rather not introduce them to if he could help it. But even though he didn't want to think about it, he found his mind instinctively returning to room 13 – the entry wound at the base of Lorraine's jaw, the gun lying where she'd dropped it in her final seconds, the look in her eyes when she'd told him she wasn't planning on staying…
What was she trying to do, really? Stan wondered to himself. I know she shot herself in the head, but she came back from that, so why did she even try? What was she up to with all the magical circles and candles? What brought Lorraine here in the first place… and why is Dipper so important to her all of a sudden?
"Well, I guess you've got plenty of questions to ask the locals," he said loudly, trying to blot out the unwanted memories. "Anything else you think I'll need?"
Ford grinned and handed Stan a miniscule replica of his blaster pistol, barely the size of a derringer. "Use it if you need a bit of extra punch," he advised. "It's got an auto-recharging battery, but it's only good for a couple of shot until it needs to offline, so use it carefully. Also, you'll need one of these…"
He passed him a tiny silver cylinder no bigger than a cigarette lighter. "Comm unit; I've got one of my own so we can stay in contact. It should be good for up to twenty miles. Hopefully this island isn't that big, but you never know. Now, you'd better hurry… oh and just remember this: if you can't find Mabel, find Lorraine. I don't know about you, but something tells me that Lorraine's not inclined to be very subtle…"
For almost a full minute, Lorraine charged onwards with Dipper in her arms, never stopping for breath or even slowing down.
Dipper fought her every step of the way, kicking and punching and shouting for help from anyone who might be listening, but without much success. Wherever they were going, the streets were pretty much deserted, and the houses were all empty; every now and again, he'd catch glimpses of indistinct figures lurking between the trees, crawling behind fences or skulking in the shadow of the neglected homes, but none of them responded to his calls… and after what he'd seen of the things patrolling the motel grounds, maybe that was for the best.
If Lorraine was in any way hurt by Dipper's wildly-flailing limbs, she didn't show any sign of it. From what little he could see of her face, she looked to be effectively on autopilot, her expression almost completely blank. He might as well have been hitting a mannequin.
Between punches, Dipper tried to get a good look at the surrounding scenery as they ran, hoping against hope that he could retrace his steps back to the motel if he ever got free, but so far it didn't look possible. At some point, they had burst out through the trees, charged down a cliffside and galloped onto a road, but after a few seconds, Lorraine had begun weaving in and out of a neighbouring forest and around the surrounding houses – almost as if trying to throw off pursuers. Plus, with Dipper's head positioned very firmly over Lorraine's shoulder, it was very hard to keep track of where they were; all he could tell was that they'd ended up in a small town bordered on one side by a sizeable-looking forest.
Eventually, the two of them finally skidded to a halt on the front lawn of a house right at the forest's edge. Dipper had just enough time to take in the tumbledown picket fence and the blackened walls of the property looming over, before Lorraine promptly collapsed to her knees, never once loosening her grip on Dipper as she fell.
"Callum!" she gasped. "Callum!"
Dipper, who'd been drawing his arm back for another punch, found himself abruptly yanked off Lorraine's shoulder and kissed hard on the cheek. Effectively disarmed by the shock, he could only stand there in bewilderment as his kidnapper showered him with kisses; needless to say, this was not what he'd been expecting, nor was being drawn in a crushing hug by the now-sobbing Lorraine.
"It's you!" she wept. "It's really you! Oh god, Callum, I thought I'd lost you forever! I thought I'd… I thought he'd… oh god… Is this real? Is this a dream? Please tell me this is real."
Dipper blinked, not sure how to respond. In the end, the only answer he could think of was a nonplussed mutter of "I'm pretty sure it's real, yeah."
At this, she hugged him even tighter – if that were somehow possible. For the next few seconds, Dipper was effectively paralysed in Lorraine's crushing embrace, unable to do much more than stand there as the strange woman stroked his hair.
"Have I been forgiven?" she whimpered. "Is that what's happened? Am I in Heaven?"
She paused, looked around, and let out a giddy laugh as the last of her tears subsided. "I guess not. I don't think Solomon Island is anyone's idea of Heaven. But still, you're here with me, and… god, you've grown up so much, Callum."
Okay, this is obviously a very weird case of mistaken identity.
"You've gotten me mixed up with someone else – my name's Dipper Pines," he explained – or tried to, because Lorraine only hugged him tighter, neatly cutting off his attempt at clearing things up.
"It's okay, Little Duck, it's okay," she soothed. "You don't have to lie. I know I wasn't myself when you last saw me, but you don't have to be afraid of me anymore and you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. Mommy's all better now, okay? Mommy's gonna make everything right."
"But-"
"Eveything's going to be alright. Once I get you out of here," she added, sheepishly. "Solomon Island's not so good right now, sweetie, and it won't be easy to get back to the mainland now that the Fog's around the island, but that's okay. We're safe here, Callum: we're close to the Black House, so none of the zombies will follow us in here."
Dipper took a deep breath, trying to take in everything he'd just heard. From what little he could see over Lorraine's shoulder, it was clear that there was a lot of fog in this part of the world, a huge swirling ring of it haloing the place from horizon to horizon; of course, there was no way of telling exactly why it was so dangerous or why it kept them from getting to the mainland, but with any luck, Dipper would hopefully find out the reasons soon. After all, as freaked-out as he was, his curiosity was in quite a lively mood and eager to learn more about this new world.
As for the Black House, he had to assume Lorraine had been talking about the run-down old house directly behind her. It certainly looked the part, what with the scorched walls, the lightless windows and the moss-layered roofing tiles… but there was something else about the place that Dipper couldn't help noticing as he took in more details. Up until now, he'd been well aware of the sounds that had layered the night, especially up at the Overlook: there'd been chirp of crickets, the ominous moans and howls of assorted monsters, and the faint rattle of what sounded suspiciously like gunfire in the distance; once or twice, there'd even been the occasional explosion. But here on the front lawn of the Black House, the world was plunged into an ominous silence – broken only by the low groan of ancient floorboards. To Dipper's ears, it sounded uncannily like some huge monster growling in its sleep… and more he thought about it, the more the charred front porch began to look like a mouth frozen in a snarl of rage.
However, all that could be ignored next to the other bombshell that his kidnapper had just dumped in his lap. "There's zombies here?" he asked.
Lorraine blinked in confusion; then, she appeared to realize her mistake (whatever it had been). "I keep forgetting how long you've been gone for," she muttered sheepishly. "But yes: there's zombies everywhere on Solomon Island, Callum. Have been ever since the Fog arrived, and they're just the tip of the iceberg."
Where's a karaoke machine when you really need it? And there's only two of us as well, so we're really out of luck.
"But they won't follow us here?"
Lorraine nodded.
"What's so special about this place?"
"Carrie Killian lived here, sweetie. You remember Ms Killian? She used to babysit you when Norma was busy; she even patched up your hand after… after…"
A shadow seemed to cross Lorraine's face, her smile fading rapidly as it did so.
"…Anyway, almost nobody wants to get too close to this place: fratboys, demolition crews, zombies, even the Ak'ab stick clear of Ms Killian's house."
What the heck is an Ak'ab?
"Almost nobody?" Dipper echoed. "If the zombies won't follow us in, then who will?"
There was a pause, as Lorraine considered this. "Well, usually the only people who'll want to try are people who'd be up to leaving the shelters. In other words, Bees, adventurers, treasure-hunters, and…"
Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh no," she muttered. "Oh no, no, no…"
Dipper was opening his mouth to ask why bees would come here – of all places – when there was a sudden clatter of boots on asphalt from somewhere worryingly close by. Instantly, Lorraine leapt to her feet with Dipper still held tightly in her arms, but it was already too late: a moment later, armed men and women seemed to appear from every direction at once; from across the road, from behind the neighbouring fences, from around the side of the Black House, and a few even jumping down from the roof of the House itself. In total, there looked to be about ten of them forming a tight ring around the front lawn, cutting off all possible escape routes.
He couldn't tell if these people were supposed to be soldiers, cops, or LARPers gone off the rails, but whatever the case, they were all dressed in the same uniform as Lorraine: the same white jacket, the same white pants, the same white gloves, the same polished blue shoes, the same winged-lion symbol over the belt buckle… and unlike Lorraine, they were all still wearing blue berets. Also, they were very well-armed. On the upside, though their guns were clearly at the ready, none of them were pointed at either Dipper or Lorraine – yet.
There was a pause, as the apparent leader of the group looked the two of them up and down. He had the kind of bland, nondescript face that would have made Agent Powers look flamboyant: cleanshaven, stern-gazed and unsmiling – the face of either a consummate professional or a human statue.
"Alright, Lorraine," he said quietly, his voice dry and unaccented. "You've had your fun for the month: put the kid down and come with us."
"No, no, no, no!" Lorraine howled. "I haven't gone this far just to give up now, not when I finally have a second chance to set things right!"
"The Council doesn't care about any of that. You should know the rules well enough by now, and you're guilty of several dozen very prominent crimes right now, most prominently desertion – to say nothing of whatever you were up to in Tabula Rasa."
"Aren't you listening?! I've got Callum back! I've finally got my son back in my arms and you-"
"Callum is dead, Lorraine. And that's assuming he even existed. We've been over this a thousand times before and I'm not going to lay out the evidence for you all over again. I don't know where you got your hands on a child this far from any of the shelters, but that is not your son."
Obvious, really, Dipper thought. I guess she really is just crazy… question is, why haven't any of these guys tried to talk to me? Shouldn't they be checking to make sure I haven't been hurt, or I have I been watching too many cop shows?
"Now," the commanding officer continued, "you've been leading us on quite a merry chase for the last couple of months, and your handler doesn't appreciate being given the silent treatment, so we'd appreciate it if you'd make this as painless as possible. Just let the kid go, surrender peacefully, and I'll do my best to persuade the Council that you can't be held legally responsible for desertion. You'll probably only get three months in confinement if you're lucky."
Dipper mentally punched the air: he'd been rescued! He didn't know who these people were supposed to be or how they'd known this crazy woman would be out here, but frankly, he didn't care. All that mattered was the fact that he'd finally caught a break. Regardless of whether they were soldiers or police, they almost certainly had the same tricks that Lorraine had up her sleeve and they outnumbered her ten to one; as long as he could keep his head down for the next few minutes, he'd be out of the lunatic's arms and back with the rest of his family in just a few hours' time… well, assuming they'd be willing to track down Mabel and the others.
"I'm not going back," Lorraine hissed. "I've spent the last thirty years working for you people and it's brought me nothing but misery! I told you I wanted out, I told you I was tired of constantly dying, I even told you that I was in pain, and none of you listened! None of you even tried to help! I had to solve my own problems – and now you want me back because you and every goddamn Bee on this planet can't just let me rest in peace! So, as of right this minute, I'm out… and I'm taking my son with me."
Thirty years? Dipper thought. How old is this woman anyway? And how many times has she died?
Meanwhile, the commanding officer appeared to have lost patience. Without saying a word, he made a complicated-looking gesture in the air; as one, the rest of the team shouldered their rifles and pointed them squarely at Lorraine, and though none of them were aiming for anything above her thighs, they didn't look as if they might be in the mood to hold their fire – which made sense to Dipper: after all, if this crazy woman really could come back from the dead, they didn't have to worry about doing permanent damage.
Unfortunately, that left Dipper with the horrifying realization that he might just end up getting shot if Lorraine was still clinging to him when they finally opened fire.
"I told you," growled Lorraine, "I'm not coming back and I'm not abandoning my boy!"
"How many times do I have to say this?" snapped the officer. "The kid isn't your-"
A bolt of lightning erupted from Lorraine's free hand and struck him square in the shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.
Immediately, the soldier behind Lorraine darted forward with a pair of handcuffs at the ready, but Lorraine was already in motion: spinning around, she hit him square in the belly with a sucker punch powerful enough to send him hurting backwards onto the Black House's front steps. And the moment his foot hit the top step, there was a low rumble of decaying timbers groaning in protest, a sound more like some ancient monster growling in the depths of the house; next second, the air around the porch rippled, unceremoniously flinging the soldier out across the yard and into two of his companions, sending them crashing to the ground.
"Thanks, Carrie," Lorraine muttered.
The rest of the team prepared to fire – but Lorraine was once again quicker off the mark: with one wave of her hand, she sent a blast of ice-cold air radiating outwards across the yard at knee level, freezing everything in its path; in less than a second, every one of Dipper's would-be rescuers had been enveloped in a wave of ice, leaving them effectively paralysed from the kneecaps down.
Immediately, the soldiers began trying to force themselves free of the ice, but without much success; seizing the opportunity, Lorraine took off, launching herself through the crowd of helpless soldiers and sprinting onwards – this time veering away from the forest and the houses that bordered it, into the rugged hills and cliffs to the south.
Held too tightly to even fight back, Dipper could only watch helplessly as his best chance of rescue faded into the distance.
A minute or two later, the two of them finally staggered to a halt on the edge of a rocky bluff overlooking Solomon Island's mist-shrouded coast.
"There," Lorraine panted. "We're safe for now, honey. Let's just stop for a minute, try and get our bearings: they'll still be looking for us, but at least we've got a headstart. Council of Venice teams don't come south to Suicide Bluffs."
"Suicide Bluffs?" Ay yi yi…
Whatever this place was called, it wasn't exactly the prettiest sight Dipper had seen. Even without the vast barrier of Fog surrounding the island, the beach below them was littered with debris: wrecked dinghies, flotsam and jetsam swept ashore, rubbish from inland, strange clumps of rust-coloured seaweed, and here and there, the mangled shapes of what looked uncannily like dead bodies. About the most picturesque thing about this place was the lighthouse standing atop one of the crags just offshore, and even that looked as if it had seen better days.
Indeed, light from the tower illuminated so little of the ragged bluffs around them that the only reason why Dipper could see anything was due to the oil drums left around the cliffs: someone had lit fires in these old drums, providing just enough light for him to see the surrounding bluffs and the beaches below. Unfortunately, whatever was burning in the drums stank of old meat past its use-by-date, a fact that only made the dismal coast seem even worse.
As soon as Lorraine's grip loosened, Dipper was ready to struggle free and start running. But then he looked again and realized that this might not be such a good idea: not too far away, putrid-looking figures were shambling across the cliffs, moaning hoarsely as they stumbled onwards; as Lorraine had said, the zombies were everywhere. Worse still, a quick glance over Lorraine's shoulder revealed that, just past the rubbish-strewn beach below them, ominous shapes patrolled the shallows: at this distance and with the figures so far from the light, it was hard to tell if they were zombies or something else, for though they had the same lumbering gait as the others, Dipper swore he could see tentacles erupting from their bodies.
More to the point, even if he could outfight or outrun the zombies and escape Lorraine at the same time, where would he go? Running to the lighthouse would leave him cornered with no way of escaping, and besides, that would probably be the first place Lorraine would think to look for him; the domed building to the northeast looked big enough to shelter in without being caught, but there were too many zombies in the way to reach it safely; finally, trying to run all the way back to the Overlook would be suicide, even if Dipper could retrace their steps.
In fact, the only place that didn't look surrounded or too distant was a fenced-off region directly north. From this vantage point, the chain-link fence itself looked old, rusted and falling to pieces in places, so maybe Dipper could be able to sneak in through one of the holes in the fence – or maybe even climb right over it if he could get a good headstart in his escape from Lorraine. With so many cliffs and rocks in the way it was hard to work out what lay beyond the barrier, but Dipper could just about recognize the shape of a roller coaster peeking out from behind the cliff, and beyond that, the lights of the Ferris Wheel gently turning in the gloom.
A motel infested with monsters, a town overrun by zombies, a haunted house and an abandoned amusement park, Dipper thought bemusedly. What the heck is wrong with this island?
Meanwhile, Lorraine was still muttering furiously to herself: from what little Dipper could work out, she was trying to decide on where they should go, and so far, she didn't appear to be having much luck in making up her mind.
"Lost my conduit. Agartha; so close to the portal, but… no, no, they wouldn't let Callum in. Besides, those Council goons will have guards there already. The bait shop? No, too small – the Bees will find us before we've even sat down. Innsmouth Academy? No, the Council have troops there as well, and there's always Bees looking for odd jobs. Lighthouse? Sam Krieg'll shoot us before he even thinks of letting us in. The trailer park? Maybe… if we can stay away from the Bees – maybe bribe someone to keep us hidden. No, there's another Council rep at the general store. Kingsmouth? Bees and Council agents all over the place. Not going back there in a hurry. Where can we go, where can we go…"
Dipper thought for a moment. Right now, Lorraine wasn't in the mood to let go of him, but maybe he could talk her into heading someplace where it'd be easier to escape – or at the very least, somewhere safe enough for her to relax; if she could calm down and think straight, maybe Dipper could convince her that he wasn't actually Callum. Right now, though, there seemed to be only one possible destination that didn't look immediately dangerous from here.
"What about the amusement park?" he suggested, innocently.
Lorraine froze, her face suddenly locked in a wide-eyed expression of instinctive fear.
"I mean, it seems pretty quiet over there," he said, belatedly realizing he might have just said something very stupid. "Maybe they won't be able to find us among all the rides. I mean, maybe if we climbed to the top of the Ferris Wheel-"
"NO!" Lorraine shrieked, her voice tearing into Dipper's eardrums at an agonizing volume; it was as if someone had set off an airhorn less than an inch from his head. Suddenly, she was no longer holding Dipper gently in her arms, but was now holding him at arms' length like a plague rat, her fingernails digging deep into his undefended flesh, her face livid with rage and terror.
A ringing silence followed as the echoes of Lorraine's scream bounced wildly across the surrounding clifftops.
"…okay," said Dipper, at last. "You're the boss. If you say we shouldn't go, then we won't go…"
As if by magic, Lorraine's fear-contorted features softened into a look of deepest parental concern; in less than a second, Angry Lorraine was gone, and she was right back to being Mama Lorraine as if she'd never stopped.
"I'm so sorry, Callum," she murmured contritely. "Mommy didn't mean to shout at you. I just- I get so upset when anyone brings up the park." She took a deep breath, doing her best to steady herself. "Atlantic Island Park, it's bad. Really bad. It's not safe in there anymore, probably never was anyway. We can't go anywhere near it, not even to escape from those Council Agents; Mommy doesn't want you getting hurt, okay, Callum?"
Dipper nodded wordlessly, for he had absolutely nothing left to say that could possibly mollify this strange woman.
Lorraine thought for a moment longer, instinctively cradling Dipper in her arms as she did so, hugging him as if he were life preserver in the middle of a stormy sea. Then her eyes lit up, but only dimly:
"The Blue Mountain," she said at last. "We need to head straight to the summit: that's the only safe place that the Bees and the agents won't follow us too. But… it's going to mean travelling on the road." She took a deep breath, anxiously chewing her lower lip as she mulled things over. "You'll need to stay in my arms," she told him, "And stay as low as you can: we can't let anyone on the road realize that I'm carrying a child, you understand? You need to stay perfectly still when I tell you: if anyone realizes what's going on, it's only a matter of time before the Council and the Bees find out what's going on. You understand Mommy, Callum?"
Dipper nodded again, not trusting himself to speak without saying something that might upset her.
"Okay, honey, you need to hold tight, now: I'm going to have to run now, okay?"
Smothering a sigh, Dipper nodded for the third and final time, before abruptly finding himself tucked tight against Lorraine's body like a baby. She then retrieved a length of waterlogged tarpaulin from the surrounding beach (presumably a leftover from one of the smaller bits of flotsam scattered along the coastline) and wrapped him tightly in it until he looked for all the world like a covered crate. Then she took off again, galloping across the bluffs and hurtling back towards the road – this time heading northwards toward the distant, looming silhouette of the mountain...
After what felt like hours of fruitless searching, Mabel stopped to catch her breath on the corner of Solomon Road and Illumination Way, hoping against hope that there weren't any zombies about.
Even with a full jug of Mabel Juice in the tank, Lorraine had left her in the dust long before she'd gotten out of the motel parking lot; she hadn't left much in the way of tracks either, forcing Mabel to search every single house in the surrounding area for any sign of where the two had gone. More than once, her search had led her dangerously close to several ominous-looking figures hunched on the side of the road: Mabel hadn't gotten close enough to get a good look at them, but the smell of rotten meat and the sound of frenzied chewing had told her everything she needed to know. After all, she didn't need to hear the moans to know that this place was infested with zombies and she couldn't afford to get a closer look – not when she didn't have a karaoke machine and a really good tune from the 80s on hand.
After all, she'd borrowed a few things from Lorraine's backpack when Grunkle Stan hadn't been looking, but none of them looked like they could be any use against the monsters loose on the island – not that she'd had the time to take stock of them just yet.
She'd had to run and hide more than once when a huge crowd of zombies had gone charging up the road towards her at terrifying speed; fortunately, they hadn't seemed too interested in actually hunting her down, but in tackling something further up the hill behind her. Judging by the roar of gunfire and the sound of explosions from that direction, whatever they were after had to be dangerous… but as curious as she was to see what was actually tackling the zombies on this weird island, she didn't want to get too curious just yet – not when she had to find Dipper.
So far, Mabel had searched as many houses as she could without getting the attention of the zombies, which wasn't easy – or fruitful, for that matter, as most of the doors were securely locked, and a quick glance through the windows revealed no signs of life in any of them. Right now, there were only four buildings on the street she hadn't searched yet: Dream Quest Kindergarten, directly across the street from her; the ruined house on the edge of the nearby forest; the patch of deserted farmhouses a few yards down the street… and the deserted amusement park.
Atlantic Island Park, the signs had called it. She'd seen the place as she'd sprinted down Solomon Road – heck, she'd been able to see the Ferris Wheel from as far as the motel parking lot – but at the time, she thought it was too obvious to bother with. Now it looked like she might have to take a look anyway. After all, the amusement park was closer to the motel, so maybe Lorraine had gone there after all.
Besides, it was either that or head down Illumination Way for whatever lay beyond the tree-lined drive, or maybe just begin searching the forest for any sign of where Lorraine had gone. Frankly, Mabel didn't like her chances of finding anything in those gloomy woods beyond the road, not with all the weird shapes she'd seen skuttling through the trees. But maybe-
From somewhere in the distance, there was a muffled whoosh, and a flash of golden light suddenly lit up the parkland behind the kindergarten.
Mabel hurried over to the very edge of the kindergarten's property just in time to see a human-shaped blur speeding out across the park, tailed by at least a dozen zombies. Judging by the speed at this figure was moving, though, they weren't likely to catch up any time within the next week, even if they were faster than the zombies that Mabel had seen back in Gravity Falls. Indeed, several of them were already giving up and returning to their usual haunts across the park in search of easier prey.
Even at this distance, even at the speed the figure was moving, there was no mistaking the stark white uniform… or the fact that it was holding something in her arms; though it had been wrapped in a tarp, Mabel could clearly tell it was Dipper, if only because the covering around the base of the shape had come loose, and his sneakered feet were now sticking out from under it.
Normally, Mabel would have despaired at ever catching up with them, but whatever Lorraine had done to make herself move so quickly, it was leaving a glowing trail of footprints on the ground behind her – a trail that had yet to fade.
Mabel didn't even need to think about what she did next: barely pausing for breath, she flung herself down the track after them, running faster than she had in her entire life; as far as she knew, even the rampaging Bill Cipher hadn't driven her to move this quickly. It didn't matter that she wouldn't be able to keep up with them: as long as Lorraine's footprints still glowed, she at least had a chance of staying on their trail. This time, she managed to keep them in view for several minutes even as Lorraine accelerated further and further ahead of them, pursuing them past the remaining houses and over the lazy arch of Miskatonic Bridge, past a gloomily-lit house doubling as a bait-and-tackle shop, past the gloomy waters of Bigfoot Cove, until at last Lorraine vanished into the gloom of a tunnel passing through the mountain – a nearby sign helpfully identifying it as Black Goat Pass.
Who the heck named these places anyway? Mabel wondered.
Seeing the tunnel still aglow with Lorraine's footprints, she carried onwards, heading steadily northwards. They'd have to stop sooner or later; after all, even Lorraine would need to catch her breath at some point – and when she did, she was going to be due for a very stern talking-to from the grappling hook…
Some distance away, the Old Man grumbled discontentedly.
It seemed that Lorraine's path was leading her away from him once more. In times gone by, he would have been glad of this, but now he needed her by his side once more, just as he needed the brat that she so determinedly fixated upon.
Her delusions had paved the way for his ascension to greater things, yes, yet now they drew the mother duck further afield, away from his fathering hand. She'd evaded the call that would lead her back to his arms, likely a result of the parasite infesting her, and until such time as she was in his presence, she would not respond no matter how determinedly he shouted into the shadows of her ruined psyche.
But as frustrating as this state of affairs was, it might still work to his advantage. The Old Man had gotten a taste of the boy's mind as Lorraine had sprinted past his home, too afraid to look back as always. The boy she had abducted was cursed with curiosity and – judging by the faint subtleties to his mind - a desperate need to satisfy it.
And the Old Man had always enjoyed a feast at the expense of the curious…
A/N: So, what do you think of Lorraine in full mama bear mode? What are your impressions of her mental state? Anyone care to guess what's going to happen next? Feel free to let me know - once again, I'm desperate for your chapter and verse of analysis.
And now the code!
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Zoo hszoo yv ivevzovw rm z szmw lu Gzilg
