AUGUST 14, 2003, TIME UNKNOWN
In the final file of the 2003 LARC excursion, the group retraces their path: out of the church doors, up the flank of the island. The ground seems to fold itself to shorten the way, and while the camera—held now by Kapoor—catches glimpses of shapes both human and otherwise, they seem frozen in place. Whatever Novak’s echo meant to do, it seems she is succeeding.
Hardcastle, apparently recovered, takes the lead. The wariness in his posture says that he is not only thinking of what beasts might lurk out of sight, but also of the other threat out here: his own echo.
They climb the stairs. None of them remark on how there are far fewer now than when they went down. They’ve moved past the expectation of a consistent reality.
Some things persist. Joy makes the girls turn away when they pass echo-Baker’s body.
They have almost reached the shore. The possibility of escape has nearly teetered into probability, fear giving way to the wild blossoming of hope. There is the empty shore, the gray water. There is the boat, their boat, not some twisted mimicry but a solid, certain thing. Novak lets out a sound of relief.
KAPOOR [echo]: This is where I leave you.
Kapoor nods, unsurprised. Her echo looks down at the gun.
KAPOOR [echo]: I don’t know if I can . . .
She swallows.
KAPOOR [echo]: Will. I know it’s a lot to ask.
HARDCASTLE: What do you—? Oh.
He looks sick.
KAPOOR [echo]: I’m still me, or very nearly. That’s the note I’d like to go out on, not babbling away with a mad song in my mind.
HARDCASTLE: Not here.
NOVAK: Don’t do this.
KAPOOR [echo]: My choice. And I don’t know how long I’ll be able to say that about anything, so let’s get it done before I hurt anyone.
She and Hardcastle walk together. Not far—Hardcastle stays at the edge of the mist. Vanya’s echo walks a little farther, behind a rocky outcropping and deep enough into the mist that they won’t be able to see. Still Joy looks away, whispering to the girls. Kapoor keeps the camera trained on Hardcastle, as if it can provide some extra barrier between herself and the act.
When it’s done, Hardcastle walks back slowly, his face set and hard.
KAPOOR: Will . . .
HARDCASTLE: Don’t. It’s done. Let’s not talk about it.
NOVAK: Let’s just get out of here.
She stands, holding the girls’ hands. Hardcastle steps between her and the boat. He looks at the ground, the gun in his hand, his jaw tense.
NOVAK: Will?
HARDCASTLE: We can’t bring them both back.
NOVAK: Of course we can.
HARDCASTLE: Those things are time bombs. Eventually, she’s going to go off.
NOVAK: She’s a toddler, Will.
HARDCASTLE: We don’t know what they’re capable of. You really want that in your house? They’ve gone after their doubles first, Joy. You want your little girl’s throat slit by a monster with her face?
NOVAK: Will!
HARDCASTLE: The double stays.
KAPOOR: Will, calm down. We can—
She steps toward him. He points the gun toward her.
HARDCASTLE: I’ve killed you once today, Vanya, and I really don’t want to do it again. But I am not bringing that monster back. I won’t be responsible for what it does.
Kapoor lets out an angry hiss of breath, but she doesn’t try to get closer. She grips the camera so tightly the whole view shakes, as if by witnessing she can somehow prevent what is happening.
NOVAK: We don’t even know which one of them is which.
HARDCASTLE: You do. You know. You’re her mother. You know.
He swings the gun around and lowers it. It points at one of the girls. Novak makes a startled noise and pushes both girls behind her.
HARDCASTLE: If you don’t tell us which one it is, I won’t have a choice.
Still she doesn’t move.
HARDCASTLE: Okay.
He steps to the side, getting an angle on the nearest girl, and his finger starts to tighten on the trigger. The girls shriek and quail.
NOVAK: No! Don’t. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you, just don’t hurt them.
She crouches down. She makes soothing noises, holding each girl’s arm gently. They calm slowly, though one is still crying softly, tears running down her cheeks.
NOVAK: Listen, loves. We can’t stay together. I know it’s scary, but it’s going to be all right.
She pushes up their sleeves. Her fingers run over the bruises on one girl’s arm—the bruises from Baker’s attack. This is the girl who came home out of the mist, the one who traveled to the headland on the boat. If she was replaced the day she got lost, this is the echo.
NOVAK: The day you were lost and heard the song, you’re the one who came home.
The girl nods. She seems the far calmer of the two; the other girl is still whimpering.
NOVAK: She’s the echo.
She turns toward the other girl, cups her cheek.
NOVAK: Hush. Stop crying now, little bird. It’s going to be okay. Come here.
She hugs Sophia close, stroking her hair.
NOVAK: Auntie Vanya and Uncle William are going to take you home, okay?
KAPOOR: What?
Novak stands.
NOVAK: I’m not leaving my daughter here alone.
HARDCASTLE: She isn’t your daughter.
NOVAK: I can’t leave her here, Will. I can’t. Just . . . get Sophie home safe, okay? Now give me a minute. I need to say goodbye.
The scene that follows holds nothing supernatural, only a raw and terrible grief. A child taken, screaming, from her weeping mother, her cries pure terror and desolation. There is nothing unreal in it, and yet it is the most unnatural, the most horrifying thing the video log has captured.
Time does not run properly in the mist, and it is both seconds and an eternity later that those who are leaving are on board the boat. The motor is running, Hardcastle tending the rudder; Sophia huddles against the side, her tears spent, only the occasional whimper left. Vanya sits at the prow of the boat, the camera on her lap.
HARDCASTLE: Look.
Vanya’s coat rustles as she twists in her seat; a moment later she picks up the camera and trains it on the water ahead. There is an end to the mist. The rocky spit that connects the headland to the rest of the island pierces it, offering a guide, a path back to the world they came from. Not one curl of mist touches the mainland. If they can reach the shore to the other side of the yawning bay, they will be safe.
HARDCASTLE: That’s it. That’s the way out.
He cuts the motor.
KAPOOR: What are you doing?
HARDCASTLE: It’s good that Joy isn’t here. It’ll be easier.
KAPOOR: What will be easier, Will?
HARDCASTLE: We can’t be sure. She might have been switched weeks ago. Or it might have been while we were here. We just can’t know for certain.
KAPOOR: Joy was sure.
HARDCASTLE: Joy was guessing. This has to be done. Turn off the camera.
He moves forward. Hardcastle lunges forward, grabbing Sophia by the shoulder and hauling her back.
KAPOOR: Don’t you dare.
But Hardcastle still has the gun.
HARDCASTLE: Turn off that camera, Vanya. I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if I have to. Turn. It. Off.
Three seconds pass in perfect stillness.
Then the recording ends.