The four companions stood beside the statue in Golden Gate Park.  A pigeon cooed from its perch atop Abe Lincoln's head, and Maggie chucked a rock at it before she resumed pacing.

"If she doesn't show up, I'm going to kill her," Maggie declared in frustration, her stride tense as she repeatedly clenched and unclenched her fists.

Wade, leaning against the president's legs, pulled their useless timer from her jacket pocket.  "Well, if she's not here in two minutes, you'll have 29 years to hunt her down."

"More like 30," Logan's voice called as she sprinted across the grass to meet them.  "It's 29.7, so us normal people whose cups are half empty prefer to round up."

Arturo frowned at the fifth member of their dysfunctional family.
"You're late, Miss St. Clair."

She simply walked past him and took the timer from Wade.  "It's your stupid 15 minute rule, not mine," she replied while connecting the two timers.  "The way I see it, I have 39 seconds to spare."

Smiling sweetly, she did her best at looking bored for half a minute before opening the vortex.  She wasn't about to tell them that she'd been afraid of missing the slide and had just ran over four miles to get here.  In hindsight, she should have stolen a car.

"So, we leaving or what?" she asked the others with a tone of annoyance.

Maggie nodded.  "Yeah, we're going."  She glared at Logan before diving into the wormhole.  Wade and Arturo did the same, leaving only Rembrandt.

"Where were you, girl?" he asked Logan.

She tossed him a videotape.  "I rented the other Star Wars, three or six or something," she answered.  "You compared me to Darth Vader, but if you watch the whole saga, Anakin Skywalker found redemption.  Luke just had to believe he could change."

Slowly, Rembrandt set the tape on the edge of the statue before turning back to Logan.  “Blockbuster probably wanted their video back,” he told her.  “It would have been nice if you'd returned it."

"Hey, I'm late enough as it is," she snapped at him.  Besides, on this world it might be a felony if you didn't rewind.  "And I am nice.  Now get your butt through the big swirly hole in the sky before we're both stuck here."

Tempted to smile at her, Rembrandt just shook his head and leapt into the vortex. Logan was right on his heels, sliding before their portal to the next dimension had a chance to close.

-----

With a grunt, Maggie sprawled face-first into a huge puddle of mud.  Thoroughly disgusted, she struggled to her feet to avoid Wade and the professor. But before she even made it half of the way up, the two of them were crashing into her backside, sending them all splattering down in a muddy heap.

"Yech," Wade exclaimed, repulsed.

"Well, at least it was soft this time," Arturo commented as he carefully stood.

However, before the professor had a chance to move, Rembrandt came flying through the air, bringing the other man straight back down into the murky puddle again.  That act caused the unfortunate chain reaction of Arturo bowling over Wade and Maggie once more as they attempted to scurry out of the way.  Logan, amazingly, managed to keep her footing perfectly, and was soon laughing hysterically at the sight of her mud-clad companions.

"If you're not going to help us, the least you can do is contain your glee!" Arturo snapped.

"Hey, Max, come on!  Relax!" She covered her smile with her hand as they all glared at her.  What she wouldn’t give for a camera.  "Besides, a little mud isn't going to hurt you!"

"It's not just mud," Maggie said as she sat up, her face and coat smeared with the grimy stuff.  A horse neighing a few feet away from them caught their attention, and as everyone else looked at their clothes in disgust, Logan laughed even harder.
 

*****

What if there were alternate realities of Earth?  Same planet, different dimension.
A world where the internet is a way of life?
Or where the Russians rule America?
Or where your worst enemy is your own self?
Worlds where your dreams can come true, or your nightmares can haunt you...
These places do exist.  My friends and I have found the gateway to reach them!
Now the only problem is... finding a way back home....

Sliders - Infinite Slides
Based on the TV series 'Sliders'
created by Tracy Tormé and Robert K. Weiss

*****
 

As the group started to remove themselves from the muck, Wade paused.  “Guys,” she said quickly, jerking her head in the direction of the stable doors, “company.”

Rembrandt stopped peeling off his filthy jacket and followed her gaze.  A young boy of no more than ten was gaping at them with a thoroughly stunned expression on his face, his little eyes open wide.

Stepping over Arturo, Logan strolled cautiously toward the child.  “Hey, kid.”

He recoiled in fear.  “Wha... what are you?”

“I’m the Angel of Darkness,” Logan replied sarcastically, then she motioned to the others, pointing to each in turn.  “Those are my minions, War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death.”

The boy’s mouth dropped open; then he instantly shut it again.  He trembled slightly, and Logan patted him on the head.  “Run home to your parents, pip-squeak.”

When he didn’t move, she bent to eye-level with him and said, “Boo.”  At that, he turned and scurried away.

As Maggie pulled the professor up out of the mud, Wade strode over to Logan and shoved her.  They’d slid into a similar situation once before, and Quinn had handled it with a considerably larger amount of tact.  “What did you do that for?  The kid was obviously terrified!”

The others were soon by their side also.  Maggie held out her hand expectantly to Logan.  “Timer,” she ordered.

Logan obediently handed over the second timer to her.  She then noticed Arturo frowning at her.  “What?” she snapped at him.

“If you’re finished frightening little children, Miss St. Clair, I suggest we acquire a place to stay and some fresh clothes.”  He motioned to the exit.

"Lead on, Pestilence," Logan smirked as she dropped in line behind him.
Rembrandt fell into step beside her.

“We don’t normally traumatize the natives,” he scolded.

She spun back toward the group, knowing she’d get herself in trouble, but enough was enough.  “Like none of you have ever been tempted to have a little fun after the slide?” she asked them.

“Perhaps,” confessed Arturo.  “However, there is a difference between fun and posing as a deity.”

Logan merely shrugged.  “You’re a real killjoy, Max, you know that?”

-----

"What kind of world is this place?" Wade asked as they strolled onto a cobblestone street and finally got a good look at the town.  She guessed that they were in the outskirts of the community; mostly forest was to their left, with what looked to be a lake in the distance, while houses and others buildings speckled the area to the right.

They had a good view from their position, standing on a slight hill with much of the town spread below them.  One of the buildings was obviously a church.  “Looks like Christians, maybe Catholics,” Rembrandt mused.

Logan groaned.  “If you start your little game of ‘what’s this world’s history and how is it different,’ I think I’m going to shoot myself.”

Wade looped her arm around Arturo’s.  “So, how else do you suppose this world is different?” she asked, casting a smug glance at Logan.  Wade was bound and determined to discuss alternate histories for as long as possible.  Who knows?  Logan might have been serious!  One could only hope.

"Obviously not the most technologically advanced society we've seen," Arturo said with a grin as he gestured toward an old-style carriage parked outside another barn.  “However, they might have some form of pistol or musket to oblige Miss St. Clair.”

"Yeah, well, be grateful they had a pump," Logan said, then struggled to hide a grin of her own.  "Otherwise you'd look as bad as you smell."

Ignoring Logan's comment, the sliders continued their walk.  "Weird,” Wade mentioned, taking in the new surroundings.  “I feel like I've traveled back in time."

The buildings lining the street had an early colonial feel.  Most were small wooden cabins with areas for gardens and horses surrounding them.  Towering above the smaller buildings was a white steeple that could only belong to the local church that they’d spotted earlier.

"Yeah.  It’s almost like that crazy French revolution world we were on a while back," Remmy said as they began to cross the street.

"LOOK OUT!" Maggie yelled as a loose horse bore down on them.  Swiftly, she yanked the others out of the way.  Well, all but Logan who narrowly avoided being trampled.  Maggie shrugged.  It wasn’t like she could have reached all four of them.

A flustered young man ran up to them, panting.  "Are you alright?  I am so sorry.  I can never control that damn animal."

"We're fine," Logan said crossly, glaring at Maggie before grabbing the chocolate-bay’s reins and handing the horse back to her owner.

Abruptly, the color drained from the young man's face.  “Dear Lord, the rumors are true!”  He quickly turned and ran away, abandoning the filly.

Fetching the reins again, Logan tried to soothe the animal.  “Whoa, easy, girl..."  She reached out to gently stroke the horse’s blaze.

"What was that all about?" Wade asked, confused.

“Well, I think he knows at least one of us,” offered Logan while digging into her pack to find a candy bar to offer her new friend.

“Let’s head farther into town,” suggested Rembrandt.  “See if we can find some normal people, get some answers.”

The others agreed and they all started walking again.  The horse followed behind Logan, sniffing at her pack.

“I’ve been thinking,” she commented while unwrapping a Snickers bar.  She took a bite before offering the rest to the horse.  “You guys have too many rules.”

“Excuse me?”  Maggie raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

Holding up her hand, Logan started counting off their rules on her fingers.  “I’m not allowed to wander off without permission, no being late for the slide, no playing with the natives, no shop-lifting, no removing pieces from android people who aren’t quite dead yet, no pets...”

Arturo frowned at the animal, which now had its head draped over Logan’s shoulder and was tagging along like a large puppy.  “Perhaps you shouldn’t feed it.  It’ll never go away.”

“Guys, take a look at this world,” Logan started.  “No cars.  A horse wouldn’t be that bad to have around.  You don’t have to hot-wire it.  Plus, her owner obviously didn’t want her, and--“

“Miss St. Clair,” Arturo said firmly.  “*Absolutely not.*  There will be no sliding ponies.  Mr. Brown here is perfectly capable of breaking my back without you adding a horse to the pile!”

Practically pouting, Logan scratched the filly’s ears.  Only the very rich owned horses on her world.  “She isn’t a pony.  Probably a thoroughbred.”  She planted a kiss on the horse’s muzzle.  “You could run in the Derby, couldn’t you, baby?”

Noticing the others giving her weird looks, she resumed their stroll.  “As I was saying,” she continued, “I want some rules of my own.”

“Is that so?” Wade asked rudely, thinking this whole conversation was ridiculous.

Logan shrugged.  “Well, for starters, I don’t need Tank Girl here commandeering the second timer after every slide.  I’m perfectly capable of handing it over willingly.  And I don’t want to be on a leash anymore, so no baby-sitting me.  Oh, and Max needs to keep his meaty paws at least three feet from my ass at all times.  He’s a bit touchy-feely during the slide.”

“I beg your pardon!” Arturo erupted.

Wade stopped kicking at a pebble and turned to the professor.  “Um, on her world, Logan and your double were kinda..." She struggled to find the right words.

“Having wild monkey sex?” supplied Logan.

That remark earned her a disapproving glare from Wade who finished with, “having an affair.”

Arturo still appeared to be more than a bit flustered.  “Any other delightful tidbits of information you’d like to share with the group, Miss Wells?”

“I told you she murdered your double?” Wade asked.

He nodded.

“That pretty much covers it then.”  She quickly moved to stand on the opposite side of Rembrandt.

“So, does anyone else feel like we’re being avoided?” Rembrandt asked, attempting to change the subject.

Maggie glanced around.  She was getting a strange feeling from this place.  She’d seen a few people, but none had said a word to the sliders.  With the way they were dressed, they had to stand out.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Logan asked sullenly.  “I get that feeling from you guys all the time.”

“We’ve got to get some different clothes,” Wade said, ignoring Logan’s remark.

“That looks like a clothing shop over there,” the professor said, pointing to a small building with an old-fashioned mannequin in the window.

"You guys go on ahead.  I'll stay out here and watch Snicker-doodle," said Logan, stroking the horse affectionately.

"Snicker-doodle?!" cried out Arturo, as the others pulled him into the store.

-----

“This is without a doubt the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever worn!” Rembrandt muttered as they exited the store.  “I look like a freakin’ pilgrim!”

“I don’t know, Remmy.  I seem to recall the dress you wore on that world with no men as not being very flattering,” Wade said with a grin.  She now sported a simple dress herself, and was glad the shop owner had accepted their coins.  Their paper currency had been laughed at.

“Uh, guys?” Maggie said, catching their attention.  A large crowd had gathered in the street before the building.  The people were fairly quiet, but most of them looked angry and scared.

Rembrandt held out his hands in a show of peace.  “Maybe we can talk to them before they start chasing us with pitchforks.”

"Leave the girl outside for fifteen minutes, she starts a riot.  Great," said Wade.

"I didn't do anything!" said Logan, who was surrounded by a semi-circle of people.  "They just keep coming up and poking me!"

“Perhaps it’s their way of shaking hands,” cautioned Arturo.  “Try poking them back."

Logan slapped at a man who reached for her horse.

"Poking, not slapping!" chastised the professor.

“I think we should go now,” Wade suggested, a bit frightened by the curious crowd.

Logan nodded.  “Yeah, I’m gonna actually have to agree with Wade for once.”

“Excuse us, ladies and gentlemen,” Arturo began as he stepped toward the crowd.  “We’re not from around here, and we’ll only be here for a few days.  Could you tell us where the nearest lodging is?”

The crowd shared a few whispers, but none answered Arturo’s question.

“Miss Mallory,” a man moving to the front of the crowd said.  “So the stories are true.”

The man was dressed in all black with a white collar and wig on his head.  His face was incredibly pale, and in his hand he clutched onto a Bible as though his life was depending on it.

“Apparently,” Logan replied, having no idea what the man was referring to, but determined to play along.  “It’s nice to see you again, Reverend.”

Arturo gave her a look that warned her to be cautious.  “As I said,” he continued, “we’re just passing through.”

“She's responsible for my missing eggs,” a stout woman in the crowd shouted.

The sliders all turned to Logan.  “I was right here the whole time,” she quickly defended herself.  "I don't even like eggs that much!"

Another man stepped forward, gaining confidence from the crowd.  “I think you all are horse thieves,” he accused.  “And Lord only knows what you want the creature for!”

“I told them what I saw,” a strange lady at the edge of the crowd spoke up.  “Everybody knows about the peculiar goings-on around here.  And now nobody will doubt I saw you a fortnight ago.  They all see you now!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Logan argued.  “Do we honestly look like the kind of people who steal horses?”

The filly had reached over and was nibbling at Maggie’s hair.  She shoved it away and glared at Logan.  “You really want them to answer that?”

Logan just smiled sweetly.  “Oh, well, we didn’t steal her, Father,” she tried to explain.  “She just followed us.  We were going to return her of course.”

“That creature obeys no one,” the man at the front of the crowd said.  More people were gathering around now and watching the scene.  “If it follows you, you must have put some form of spell on the animal.”

"Just like she put a curse on my hens!" shouted the stout woman.

“I did no such thing!” Logan exclaimed as she moved protectively in front of the horse.  Stroking the filly, Logan continued to glare at the crowd.  “I didn’t use any magic on Snicker-doodle!  You people have overactive imaginations.”

“The O’Malley boy claims that you’re demons,” another person accused.

Maggie laughed nervously.  “Well, you know kids...”

“They say the damnedest things,” added Logan, earning her another jab in the ribs from Wade.

“What will you take next?  Our children?” another person yelled.

“You all had wet clothing.  You come from the lake?”  A woman asked the question this time, her voice both condemning and frightened.

Wade took an abrupt step back and collided with Rembrandt.  He carefully moved to stand between her and crowd.

“We don’t want you here, Sorceress!” someone else shouted.

"Well, I'm here," shouted back Logan, her ire up.  "What are you going to do about it?"

"This!" declared the reverend, shoving a cross in her face.  Logan looked at him dumbfounded and laughed.

A middle-aged woman stepped forward.  “Enough of this!” she silenced the growing mob.  “They’ll stay at my home, and then be gone in several days as they said.”

She walked past the reverend and took Logan’s hand.  “Come, Lorna.”

As the sliders followed the woman through the crowd, Logan jerked her hand free.  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “I can walk on my own, Linda,” she muttered.

The horse trotted behind them and no one attempted to stop it.  Logan smiled to herself before snatching the reins again.  “Good girl,” she purred quietly, slipping her filly another piece of candy from her pocket when she thought nobody was looking.

---

After walking across the town again, they found themselves in front of a small house.  The woman motioned for them to go inside.  “We really appreciate this, Mrs. Mallory,” Wade thanked her for her hospitality.  They rarely got free places to stay on their slides.

As the others went inside, Logan slipped the bridle from the horse and set her free.  “Stick around if you want,” she told the animal.  “Eat the yard.”

She turned and made her way to the house.  Mrs. Mallory was waiting for her.  “My poor daughter,” she said sadly, gazing intently at Logan.  “What evil have you done now?”

“Linda, I didn’t do anything...” Logan started.

Mrs. Mallory looked away.  “Leave this world by week’s end.  If you return again, I won’t protect you further.”

As she walked into the house, Logan quickly followed.  “What did you say?”

Picking up a broom, Mrs. Mallory began sweeping, humming to herself.  It was a familiar tune to Logan, but she couldn’t place it.  Probably something she hadn’t heard in years.

“Do you know about sliding?” she asked her alternate mother.  Surely her double hadn’t invented it on this world!

Mrs. Mallory ignored her, continuing to clean.  Logan slowly walked over to the others.

“What was that about?” Rembrandt inquired.

She shook her head.  “Nothing.”  She sighed.  “I guess we just make ourselves at home.”

The others watched her as she randomly selected a room and opened the door.  Shrugging, Maggie did the same.  Wade glanced over her shoulder into the room.  “Creepy...”

“What?” Logan asked, barging into that room also.  She strolled over to the window and pulled open the drapes, letting light pour into the shadows.

It was clearly a girl’s room.  The bed was neatly made, there was a small dresser with a mirror, and the closet held several dresses.  Yet it looked as though nobody had touched anything in quite a while.

“Maybe it’s my room?” Logan guessed, hesitantly picking up a hairbrush from the dresser and disturbing the layer of dust.

"It hasn't been used in awhile," said Maggie.  "I wonder where she is."

“Well, the people in town seem to be scared of her,” Rembrandt commented as Logan knelt in front of a chest at the foot of the bed.  “Perhaps you shouldn’t go through her things.”

Ignoring him, Logan tugged at the clasp on the trunk.  “I think it’s locked.”  She got up and started going through the closet.  After discarding a few items by tossing them on the bed, she held one of the dresses in front of her and turned to the others.  “What do you think?  Too girlie?”

Arturo entered as Logan resumed rummaging through her double’s wardrobe.  “Making a mess already, I see,” he commented.  “It seems there are only three rooms, so I suppose we’ll be sharing again.  Since one obviously belongs to your mother, Miss St. Clair, you ladies can take this one and Mr. Brown and I will share the other.”

"She's not my mother," reiterated Logan, "and thanks for making that clutch decision, Max."

Wade sat down on the bed and sneezed as she stirred up some dust.  “Your mother seems a bit odd,” she said to Logan.  “She hasn’t spoken two sentences to us.”

“Linda tends to ignore people,” replied Logan, not seeming to care.  She held up another dress, this time full length and solid black.  The style was simple with long sleeves and a low neckline.  “Now this is more like it!”

“You’re not even curious about what your family is like on this world?” Maggie asked her.

Aggravated, Logan hung the dress back up.  “Why should I be?” she snapped back.  “My double is some petty thief, and she obviously has the same wonderful relationship with Linda on this world as I did back home.  And since we’re Mallorys here, she either never married Jake or the worthless bastard has keeled over by now, and if he’s pushing up poppies, that’s fine by me.  What’s there to be curious about?”

“Let me know if it’s just me,” Maggie remarked, “but I got the impression that scene in town was about more than somebody’s horse.”

Arturo nodded.  “Indeed.  Perhaps a certain amount of curiosity about your double is warranted,” he said to Logan.

“She’s a black sheep,” Logan replied simply, “and they’re aiming to turn her into a scapegoat for everything that’s misplaced in this town just ‘cause they think I stole a horse, but it doesn’t matter since we’ll be off this pigsty of a planet before the cows come home.”

Wade rubbed her temples, feeling the start of a headache.  “If you’re through seeing how many farm animal references you can cram into that run-on sentence, you might want to consider looking for yourself,” she offered.  “Or your father.  We know your mother was married to him here.”

Logan walked over to the door.  “This Linda isn’t my mother,” she said coldly.  “And my father is dead.”

Chucking her backpack in the corner, Logan stormed out of the room.

-----

After they’d settled into their new rooms a bit, Maggie decided to go find Logan.  She was starting to get worried about what she might be up to.

Walking outside, she spotted Logan off in the distance, silhouetted by the setting sun.  She was lunging the filly.  Maggie moved to stand beside her.  “Where’d you get the rope?” she asked, ducking under it as the horse trotted around them in a circle.

“I borrowed it from Linda,” Logan answered before signaling for a faster gait.

Maggie shoved her hair behind her ears then stuck her hands in her pockets.  “You want to talk about it?”

Frowning, Logan shook her head.  “You can take Snicker-doodle back after I’ve put her through her paces, okay?” she snapped.  “I just want her for twenty damn minutes.  Is that so much to ask?”

Sighing, Maggie stood quietly for a moment.  “I meant about your mother,” she eventually clarified.

Logan visibly tensed.  “Whoa, girl,” she called to the horse, pulling the slack from the rope and beginning to wind it up.

“I won’t ask you to return the horse,” Maggie relented.  “Back in town was almost like a witch hunt, and I don’t want you walking back into that.”

“Why, Maggie, I’d almost think you were worried about me.”  Logan finished looping the rope, then she rubbed the horse’s blaze.

Watching Logan handle the animal, Maggie was surprised at the amount of affection Logan was displaying.  “If only you could be so nice to another human being,” she commented.

Logan glanced over her shoulder at her.  “Maybe I’ve nobody who deserves my being friendly to.”

“You know what, fine.”  Maggie glared at her.  “You’re always complaining that we don’t treat you as part of the group, but I’m trying to be civil here and you really aren’t helping matters any!”

Logan took a few steps away from the horse before raising her tone.  “So you want us to be best buddies now, is that it?” she asked.  “We can have pajama parties, give each other makeovers, and talk about boys?  Give me a break.  I’m not your friend, Maggie.  I’m never going to be.  When Max and I figure out how to separate the timers, I’m back to flying solo.  You guys will drop me in a second.  What’s the use of us bonding?”

“I’m sorry,” Maggie practically shouted at her.  “I thought you could use a friend!”

“Oh come on!” Logan snapped back.  “You’re the one who’s feeling lonely here.  Admit it.  I’m happy on my own.  You’re the one looking for a friend.”

Maggie just shook her head.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, that’s right, you have the others,” Logan remarked sarcastically.  “Why don’t you go tell them what you told me, and then we’ll see who’s really out in the cold when this sliding partnership breaks up.”

“They would understand!” argued Maggie.

“Then why are you making nice with the other side?” Logan jabbed back fiercely.  “There’s something in it for you.  You’re trying to find another option for when the truth comes out and you’re not a welcome member of the family any longer.”

“You’re crazy,” Maggie retorted defensively.  She wasn’t trying to play both sides.  They weren’t supposed to have any sides.  Logan wasn’t the enemy anymore.  Was she?

Logan nonchalantly blew some hair from her face.  “At least I’m not hiding behind a good girl mask.  You’re as crazy and twisted as I am.  You’re beneath me even.  You do the things I do, but you lie about them.  And now you’re afraid.”

Ignoring the impulse to end the conversation, Maggie ventured, “Afraid of what?”

Logan simply smiled.  “That I won’t want you either.”

-----

Softly, Wade crept down the hall.  “Mrs. Mallory?” she called carefully.

But the woman didn’t seem to be anywhere around.  *Maybe she went out,* Wade thought.  Then she heard a clatter coming from the kitchen.  As Wade approached, she heard the noise of a knife chopping quietly against a board, and low reverent muttering.

“...protect your faithful servant against the evils of this house.  I beseech you to cast down your holy fire and have pity on the righteous...”

Startled, Wade glanced around the corner into the kitchen and silently watched Linda Mallory.  There were strange candles lit throughout the room, and she was feverously chopping away at some sort of vegetable, occasionally tossing chopped pieces into the room around her.

Suddenly, Wade didn’t feel much like talking to her anymore.

-----

With a clunk, the axe slammed down heavily, embedding itself firmly into the grass right next to the unsplit log.  Furiously, Rembrandt swore and clutched his jarred hand.

“Damn,” he gasped.  “I didn’t think it’d be so tough to do.”

“Come now, Mr. Brown,” Arturo said, well out of range of the swinging axe.  “This is a matter of simple physics!”

Rembrandt glared back at him.  “If it’s so simple, how come you’re standing over there?”

“Obviously you’re in much better physical shape than I for this sort of thing.”

“Yeah, well,” Rembrandt grumbled, “I ain’t no Arnold Schwarzenegger.  I’ve missed the block eight times!  It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies!”

Wade stifled a giggle as she drew near them, but couldn’t quite mask the grin that crept to her face.

“Yeah, sure, you just laugh while we do all the hard work!” Remmy exclaimed.

“I don’t remember anyone forcing you to do this,” Wade smirked.

“Just being charitable to our hostess.  Thought we’d give something back for a change,” he said defensively.

Wade’s face clouded.  “Speaking of our hostess, I just tried to go speak to her.  Wanted to thank her for taking us in.  And she was doing something kind of... odd.”

“How so?” Arturo asked solemnly.

“Well,” Wade began, “she was...  I don’t know what exactly she was doing.  She was in the kitchen, and there were all these strange, funny-smelling candles lit.  She was chopping some sort of herb and throwing it all over the place.  And she was chanting something.”

Rembrandt glanced over toward the professor, his face concerned.  “What on earth...?”

“I don’t know,” Arturo said.  “Could be some sort of protection ritual.  Some cultures use that sort of thing to ward off demons and evil spirits.”

“She mentioned something like that in her chant!” Wade exclaimed.  “Something about ‘protecting against the evils of the house.’”

“But that would imply that whatever the danger is, it’s coming here," Arturo said, just as Logan appeared.  He caught sight of her and muttered, "Or perhaps it's already arrived."

As Logan and Maggie returned to the house, Wade regarded them carefully.

“Are you two okay?” she asked, noticing that they both seemed tense.

“Fine.”

“Peachy.”

With that, the two women stomped inside.  Wade gave Rembrandt and Arturo a questioning look.  Remmy just raised an eyebrow.

Holding open the door, Arturo sniffed the air.  “I do believe I smell dinner.”

The three of them went inside and headed for the table.  It was neatly set for six, and Logan and Maggie were already seated.  The others joined them, and they sat in awkward silence for a moment.

“I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse,” Maggie finally said, followed by a quick, “Ouch!”  She glared at Logan who had obviously just kicked her under the table.  “It’s just an expression!”

“I didn’t like your tone,” Logan snapped back.

Arturo cast them a disapproving glance.  “Ladies, please be civil.  We don’t want to offend our hostess.”

As if on cue, Linda Mallory entered the room from the kitchen.  She placed a single bowl of soup at her spot at the table and commenced her meal.

The sliders exchanged curious looks.  After a minute, Logan blurted out, “Where’s ours?”

“Oh dear!”  Mrs. Mallory put down her spoon.  “Do you people eat?”

Logan simply nodded.  “Um, yeah.”

Mrs. Mallory stood and headed for the door.  “I’ll go into town and get something for you and your nice friends,” she said as she exited.

Wade was the first to stop gaping in bewilderment and follow her.  She caught up to the woman outside.  “You don’t need to go to all that trouble,” she stammered.  “It’s getting dark.  We’ll go buy some food in the morning.”

She hesitantly turned back to the house, mumbling something about how peculiar it was that Wade’s kind needed to eat.

Following her back inside, Wade wondered if the woman was merely senile.  But she couldn’t help still feeling a bit paranoid.  This world was really creeping her out.

-----

Later that night, after Mrs. Mallory had retired to bed, the sliders gathered in Logan’s room.

“...which is why I have a strange feeling about this place,” Wade was saying.

Logan looked up from her task of picking the lock on the chest.  “Have you ever visited a world where you *didn’t* have a strange feeling?”

“Oh, Logan, I didn’t know you were paying attention,” Wade replied snidely.  “I thought you were engrossed in vandalizing your double’s property.”

She tossed down the lock pick.  “Blah blah blah, Linda is cuckoo.  That about the gist of it?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take this so lightly, Miss St. Clair,” advised Arturo.  “Your mother could be afraid of a very real danger.”

Maggie leaned forward, propping her chin in her hands.  “What, you mean like the Kromaggs?  That kind of stuff?”

“Hopefully it’s nothing that serious," said Wade, shaking off a shiver at the very thought of Kromaggs.  "Just silly superstitions or something.  Maybe we missed some giant ‘shoplifters will be prosecuted’ sign, and she’s afraid the police are going to haul us off.”

“This is the one world where I have done absolutely nothing wrong,” Logan protested.  “And what kind of nut job does a protection ritual to ward of the Feds?”  She paused.  “Never mind.”

“All I’m saying is maybe we should sleep with one eye open tonight.  Be ready for anything,” Wade stated.

“Doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway,” muttered Rembrandt.  “I’m starving.”

Grabbing her backpack, Logan dumped part of the contents onto the bed.  A parade of M&M’s scattered across the mattress accompanied by several candy bars.  “And you thought carrying supplies was a bad idea,” Logan commented smugly as the others dove for the pile of snack food.

“Thank you, God,” exclaimed Rembrandt, retrieving a Snickers bar.

“You’re welcome,” said Logan.

-----

“Was it really such a good idea to leave her there?” Wade asked as most of the group set off toward the general store the next morning.

“After the original impression she left on the population here, I believe we should all be grateful Miss St. Clair opted to stay behind at the house,” the professor said stiffly.

“Yeah, maybe.  But I still don’t trust her alone.”

Maggie glanced sharply in Wade’s direction.  “Seems like you felt that way about me once too.”  She eyed her sliding companion suspiciously.  Maybe she still felt that way.  If Logan was right, their newfound friendship wouldn’t last if Wade ever discovered the truth about what had happened back on Base world.

Frustrated, Wade kicked a stone down the road ahead of them.  “Okay, I admit that maybe my concerns about you weren’t *totally* justified, but in this case they are!  Has everyone else here forgotten she’s tried to *kill* us on more than one occasion?”

“Alright, Wade.  Calm down,” Remmy said, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “We’re all hungry here, and that’s bound to make some of us a little short tempered.”

"Is food all you ever think about?" snapped Arturo.

"Look who's talking!" replied Rembrandt.

Arturo stopped in his tracks and stared Rembrandt down.  "And just what are you insinuating, hm?"

"Nothing, Professor.  All I'm saying is that if the husky pants fit..."

“Hey, guys.  You want to pipe down?” Maggie whispered harshly, then softened her tone and added, “We have locals approaching at six o’clock.”

Wade glanced behind her casually, and there, about six feet away, was the young boy who had originally watched them slide in.

Suppressing a feeling of déjà vu, Wade smiled at the boy.  “Hey there.  Can we help you?”

The boy looked at her with widening eyes.  The expression on his face was so horrified that Wade was amazed the kid hadn’t bolted the instant she turned around.

“Hey, it’s okay, little man,” Remmy said soothingly.  “We aren’t really demons.  Our friend was just trying to tease you.”

“Yeah, we’re really a troupe of magicians, practicing our magic act,” Maggie joined in, drawing from a story she’d been told of one of their earlier slides.

“That’s not what they say,” the boy said, speaking at last.  “They said you came from the lake.”

“The lake?” Arturo asked.

“Yeah.  But no one ever comes out of there, unless they’re a ghost or something.”

Arturo took a deep breath.  "I assure you we did not come from the lake as we materialized in your stable.  So clearly you have nothing to worry about."

The boy looked about to speak again, but when he opened his mouth, the words that came out were not his.

“Be gone, Jacob,” a voice behind them said.  “Your mother warned you not to speak to strange people such as these.”

The group whirled around to see the priest from the clothing store standing behind them.  The boy, intimidated, ran off.

“We’re sorry, Reverend,” Wade began.  “We were simply trying to explain...”

“Explain nothing,” he cut in, looking furious.  “I don’t know who you are or what you are doing with that Mallory woman, but I will rid this world of all of you once and for all, so help me God."

-----

“Come on, come on...” Logan mumbled through gritted teeth as she fit the pick into the trunk’s lock once again.  “Open, will you?”

On the ground next to the lock lay three broken lock picks, each one a casualty to the stubborn lock.  As Logan carefully turned the latest one, she felt the metal begin to give under the pressure, and before she knew it, the lock pick was lying on the ground in pieces.

“AUUUGH!!” Logan screamed in frustration.  “I don’t believe it!  I’ve broken out of high security facilities but I can’t beat a stupid, miserable piece of seventeenth century JUNK that refuses to open!!”

Furiously, Logan began to pace the room, trying to find an outlet for her rage.  A part of her was grateful the rest of the sliders were not present to see this, for it would destroy any progress she had made with them so far.  However, another part of her thought they’d be a great way to vent her frustrations.

Still angry, she kicked the chest fiercely.  For an instant afterwards, there was only absolute silence and a throbbing in her toe, but then without warning, the lock popped open and dropped to the ground.

Logan arched an eyebrow and then examined the lock carefully.  “Dang,” she mumbled, rather happy with the unexpected success.  *Hmmm.  Maybe I made more progress picking that thing than I thought.*

In an instant, the lock was forgotten as Logan carefully removed the garment placed at the top of the trunk.  It was a vibrant shade of violet that made Logan smile as she unfolded it.  *Finally someone on this planet with a fashion sense.  I might end up dressing for the occasion after all.*

The shawl, however, was only the beginning of the treasures to be found there.  Carefully, Logan began sifting through a variety of interesting things, including some rather odd-smelling powders and a couple peculiarly shaped charms that she couldn’t even begin to guess the purpose of.

She was about to repack everything when something else caught her eye.  A thin leather-bound book was tucked against the side.  Curious, Logan opened the first page and read...

Lorna Mallory’s Journal
1997 -

"At least it doesn't start, 'Dear Diary,'" Logan said aloud.  But this was not a journal of poetry and pining; it contained formulae and notation.  Page after page was filled with schematics and chemical equations.  There was nothing in here as complex as sliding, but there were some discoveries worked out that this world had certainly never seen.

Logan flipped rapidly through the pages, surprised to discover that the writing ended midway through the book.  Curiosity getting the better of her, Logan began to read the last entry, a wave of fear flowing over her as she got further into it.

‘There isn’t much time.  I have to get out of here soon, or they’ll destroy me.  I fear my fate may be already sealed, and that death is a certainty.  I know they’ll come for me...’

“Who?” Logan asked as if hoping the book would answer her.

"Who what?" came a reply from the hallway.  Startled, Logan slammed down the lid of the chest. She hopped onto the bed and grabbed the first book from her backpack, concealing the smaller journal inside the book.  She had just got the book right side up when Maggie poked her head in the room.

"Back so soon?" asked Logan, pretending to be bored.

"Yeah, the natives weren't exactly friendly.  A few of them refused to sell to us at all.  Others just told us to take what we want so long as we didn't hurt them," said Maggie.

"Maybe I should have come along after all," said Logan, hoping Maggie would just go away.  Instead, she kept coming.

“What are you reading?” Maggie asked.

“The Slider’s Bible,” answered Logan, holding up the book titled ‘Worst Case Scenarios.’  “You know, reading up on useful stuff like how to escape from killer bees.”

“Let me see that,” Maggie said, snatching it from her.  As she did so, the journal Logan had hidden inside it toppled onto the mattress.  Maggie cocked an eyebrow at her before turning to the table of contents in the first book.  “How to jump from rooftop to rooftop, how to win a sword fight, how to take a punch, how to ram a car...  Useful.”

She made a mental note to read through the entire book later, then she returned to eyeing Logan suspiciously.  “So, what’s so much more interesting about that one?” she asked pointedly as Logan slowly picked the journal back up.

"This is, uh… personal," said Logan, keeping it close to her.

"Awww… does Logan have a diary?" mocked Maggie.

"Filled with all my love notes for you," Logan sneered as she tried to make her exit.  But instead, she literally bumped into the entering Arturo.  He quickly caught her to make sure she didn’t fall.

Logan glanced down at his hands then glared at him.  “We talked about this.”

He instantly removed his hands.  “I assume you behaved yourself while we were absent?”

“Of course.”  She gave him a sweet smile.  “What did you get us for lunch?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” he answered.  “Perhaps Mr. Brown and I could do a little fishing later.”

“Trust me when I say that isn’t a good idea,” replied Logan before starting to strut past him down the hall.  She suddenly tripped over his foot and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

Arturo grinned broadly in satisfaction, making no attempt to help her up.  “Terribly sorry, Miss St. Clair,” he apologized.

-----

It was the crack of dawn when Wade woke the next morning.  She shifted her position and tried to get back to sleep.  Sleeping in was the only good thing about this world, and she had no intention of rising early to greet another hopefully boring day.

After a few seconds, she suddenly sat up straight and cursed.  “Maggie, get up!” she called while quickly fumbling to slip on her shoes.  She dashed for the door and headed for Rembrandt and Arturo’s room.

Upon entering it, she tripped over Remmy, whose turn it was to take the floor, and promptly fell on top of him.  “You awake?” she whispered.

“I am now,” he wheezed.

As he sat up, Wade grabbed the pillow that had been under his head and slung it at Arturo.  “Professor,” she hissed, “wake up!”

He grabbed the pillow after it collided with his face.  “What the devil...” he mumbled as his shoes followed the pillow and landed in his lap.

“We need to get up.  Now,” blurted Wade in a rush.

From her position in the doorway, Maggie explained.  “Logan is gone.”

-----

After Wade’s rousing, the trio rushed as quietly as possible through the small house behind her, not wanting to wake Mrs. Mallory.  As they darted outside to begin a search for their missing companion, Rembrandt called for Wade to hold up.

“Before we continue playing hide and seek, define ‘gone.’”  He looked to Maggie.  “Gone how?  Like somebody took her gone, or she stole the timer and bolted gone?”

Maggie just sighed, looking across the yard.  “Well, my money is on bolted, considering that her pony is MIA also.  However..." She held up the second timer.

Frowning, Arturo asked, “So what would you suggest we do about our absent slidemate?”

“Kill her,” suggested Wade.

“We still need to find her first, Miss Wells,” the professor commented.  "Let me think.  If I were a spoiled malcontent, where might I wander?"

"I caught her with a book yesterday.  I think it was a diary.  There could be something in there," said Maggie.

Wade smirked.  "Now that's some light reading I wouldn’t mind doing.  Think she left it behind?"

Not seeing any better options, Rembrandt held the door open and they all went back inside the house just as Linda Mallory was exiting her room.  She was wearing a dress and had put her hair up.

“Good morning...” Wade said somewhat cautiously.

Smiling, the older woman took Wade’s hand.  “Come,” she said.  “We must attend church.”

She headed for the door, dragging Wade along in toe.  Wade just cast the others a desperate look as she was led out.  Shrugging, Rembrandt followed, and Wade mouthed a “thank you” at him.

Arturo turned to Maggie.  “It seems we’ll be attending church.”  He caught the door and held it for her.

“I’m right behind you,” she called, darting back to the bedroom to retrieve the diary.

-----

"Please turn to page twelve of your hymnals."

As the congregation sang "All the Ends of the Earth," Arturo slipped the journal inside his hymnal and attempted to nonchalantly read some pages of the book. “You should probably keep that thing out of sight,” Rembrandt whispered.

Maggie glanced over at Mrs. Mallory who was absently French-braiding Wade’s hair.  “I really don’t think she’s going to notice, Remmy.  Besides, I don't think anyone will care about who Logan liked in the sixth grade.”

"This isn't Logan's," the professor said in a hushed tone.  "It belongs to her double and the information contained within these pages is considerably above sixth grade comprehension."

"Oh yeah?  That steamy, eh?" joked Rembrandt.

"Steamy?  No.  Steam combustion?  Yes.  It looks like we have a little Logan da Vinci on our hands.  You see this formula here?" Arturo said, pointing in the lower corner of the page.  "Those are the basic components to gunpowder."

"Good old Logan.  Even in a world trapped in the 17th century, she's still working on destroying things," remarked Rembrandt.

"Except here she was the one destroyed," Arturo said.

A stern old woman in the pew in front of them turned and gave him a disapproving look.  Arturo handed the book to Maggie, saying, "Oh here we are.  Verse two."

Arturo joined in the hymn as Maggie read quietly.

'I've tried to explain to them that there is nothing evil about what I am doing, but they don't understand!  I pray they don't take me to the lake, but I fear even God can't protect me now.  Everyone is against me. I don't want to die!'

---

As she shoved open the church doors, Logan could already hear the priest praying.

"Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla."

Latin, a prayer for the dead.  She’d heard those words before when she’d attended Mass on All Souls' Day.  She vaguely recalled some of the translation. ‘That day, the day of wrath, will turn the universe to ashes...’

Water dripped from her wet hair and dress and began to form a pool at her feet.  She locked eyes with the priest as a hush seemed to sweep over the church, enveloping it in an eerie silence.  Ignoring the frightened stares of the worshipers, she strode past the other sliders who were seated in one of the back pews, and made her way to the front of the aisle.

"I see the wet look is back in," muttered Wade, but Maggie quieted her with a sharp elbow to her side.

Never removing her eyes from the priest who was stuttering now as he continued the prayer, Logan struck a match to light one of the small candles.  It snapped in half instead of lighting, so she removed her cigarette lighter from the pocket of Lorna’s black dress.  Igniting the wick of the candle so that it burned a steady flame, she smiled in satisfaction.  The entire congregation had fallen silent again except for a few spattered gasps and a hushed whisper.  Then, after crossing herself, she sat in the very front pew.

“Mighty Father, deliver us from all evil,” the priest spoke again, stuttering and clutching his Bible with a trembling hand.  “Protect your children from all things unholy.”

Bowing her head yet keeping her gaze on the man, Logan listened to his words.  For someone who claimed to be a man of God, he was truly what was evil in this town.  Yet he was praying to his so-called god to protect him from the likes of her.

Furious, she scoffed as she abruptly stood.  Picking up the candle she’d lit, she strutted to the back of the church where she tossed it furiously at the ground.  The glass shattered and sent melted wax splattering at Logan’s ankles as the flame was extinguished.

“Amen,” she said, finishing the Reverend’s prayer.  Then she shoved open the doors and exited.

-----

The four sliders just stared at each other for a moment, and then they all got up and followed Logan from the church.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Wade shouted at her.

Logan stopped unhitching Snicker-doodle and turned to face the others.  One of the townspeople had also followed them out.  She growled at him.  “Get out of here!”  When he didn’t move, she took a step toward him.  “NOW!”

At that, he quickly fled.

Logan huffed.  “These people need to learn to show some respect to the dearly departed!”

“So your double is dead?” asked Maggie, handing Logan the journal.

Logan shook her head.  “I don’t think so,” she told them.  “Lorna was expecting them to try to kill her.  She placed a knife at the bottom of the lake so that she could free herself when the priest decided to dunk her.  He sanctioned it, supervised it, approved of and granted absolution of it.  Some holy father."

"What are you two talking about?" asked Rembrandt.

“They drown criminals in the lake," said Maggie.  "To cleanse their souls.”

"Oh boy…" muttered Wade.

"They thought she was an enchantress, but really she was just a scientist.  So because they didn't understand her, they decided to just get rid of her.  It's all in her journal," continued Logan.  "However, it’s a big lake, and swimming isn’t really my thing, so I didn’t find any actual proof of what happened.”

“So she still may or may not be alive," said Arturo.

“Well if she is, it’s highly unlikely she’ll ever come back here,” Logan said bitterly.  “But for all these people know, they killed her, and I’ve come back from the dead.  I’m not just some cheap sorceress that they can chase out of town.  To them, I should be a goddess!”

“Congratulations, Logan, you’ve now broken all ten of the commandments.”  Wade glared angrily at her.

Logan spun to face her.  “You’re referring to the ‘no other gods before me’ one, right?  Then there’s killing, stealing, and lying.  Remind me again what the others are?”  She matched Wade’s glare.  “And who are you to judge me?”

The professor took a step forward.  “We have no right to interfere with--“

“Shut up!”  Arturo’s lecture was abruptly stopped as Logan raised her hand as if to strike him, but she slowly lowered it again, then spoke more calmly.  “This isn’t some TV show, it’s real life.  We don’t have to follow the Prime Directive.  We can interfere to our hearts’ desire!  These people think I’m a sorceress.  I say we use that to our advantage.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Maggie shook her head.  “Power corrupts...”

“And absolute power is kinda fun,” Logan finished.  “Besides, don’t you dare even try to tell me that this is wrong, Maggie.  Because if we’re getting into a moral debate, I’m sure the others would like to know how Quinn really died.”

Wade's hard stare shifted from Logan to Maggie who looked completely shocked.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maggie took a few steps back, on the verge of tears.  She stared dumbfounded at Logan.  “How could you?”

“All any of you have ever expected from me is betrayal,” Logan said, keeping her eyes locked on Maggie.  “I just thought they should know not to turn their backs on you either.”

Placing a hand on her arm, Rembrandt steered Maggie’s attention away from Logan.  “What’s she talking about?  Did something happen between you and Q-ball?”

After blinking a few times to hold back the tears, Maggie glanced at him, Wade, and Arturo.  Her eyes moved back to Wade who was intently awaiting an explanation.  “I’m sorry,” Maggie said softly.  She had to look down at the ground in order to say what came next.  She couldn’t face any of them.  “I’m responsible for Quinn’s death.”

“There you have it.  True confessions from the tough military bitch who spends her nights crying into her pillow because of all the bad, bad things that she’s done.”  Logan glared at them all.  “None of you are any better.  Wade, you killed Steve and you enjoyed it.  Max, you’re an ego-crazed, self-righteous, pompous windbag who thinks every world revolves around you.  News flash, you’re actually a scum-sucking bastard who feeds off the brilliance of others, taking credit for their work.  You’re nothing on your own; you never could be!  I’ve seen worlds where you were just a drunken old fool who was out on his ass in the street.

“And, Rembrandt, well, nobody in their right mind would be caught dead in that shade of orange!  You look like a pumpkin in that shirt, not a pilgrim!” she finished, mocking the only item of clothing he hadn’t replaced this slide.

There was a pause before she continued again, no longer shouting.  “So just judge yourselves.  You’re not perfect.  Neither am I.  Neither was Quinn.  Nobody is.”

Rembrandt and Arturo both moved to stand beside Maggie.  “You’re right,” Arturo said.  “None of us are perfect.  That’s just something we have to accept.”

Logan appeared sufficiently stunned.  “You’re still standing behind her?”  How could they be rallying around Maggie after what she’d just told them?  “She isn’t even one of you!  She’s just another stray you picked up along the way.”

Rembrandt cast Maggie a reassuring look.  “We trust her.”

For a second, it looked like Logan might cry.  Instead, she mounted her horse and bolted away.

-----

The others were still standing in the street several long minutes after Logan rode off.  None of them even asked her where she was going.  They didn’t say anything at all.

It was Wade who finally broke the silence.  “I need an explanation.”

Maggie sunk to the ground and put her face in her hands.  “I had a chance to help Quinn, but I saved myself instead,” she said slowly, glancing up at her friends.  Or at least they were her friends up until a few minutes ago.  She wondered just how far their trust in her went.  “I couldn’t lie to myself and believe that Base would heal him.  He was marked for death, so I let him die.  I’m sorry.”

Turning away, Wade started to walk, not caring about her destination.  Rembrandt caught her hand.

“I don’t know if I can handle this, Remmy,” she confessed before he even asked if she was okay.  She shoved the hair from her face and tried to keep her composure.  “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maggie’s obviously pretty distraught about this,” he said softly.

Wade nodded.  “She should be.”  She paused for a second.  “Even at the very beginning, we had each other’s backs.  But now..." She glanced over at Max and Maggie and the direction in which Logan had gone.  “If we were captured by the Russians today, do you think any of them would lift a finger to rescue us?  They’d have left you behind.”

“Come on, sweetheart, you know that’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”  Wade looked intently at him before continuing.  “Logan only watches our backs so she’ll know where to stab, Maggie has been a bitch since the day we met her, and Max is not our professor!  We were wrong to ever trust any of them.”

“Hey,” Rembrandt objected.  “I can understand your hostility toward Logan, and I know you’re upset, but Maggie and Max have--“

“She killed Quinn!” Wade shouted, jerking away from Rembrandt.  She stared over at Arturo who seemed to be comforting Maggie.

“Maybe you and I would have done things differently, but who’s to say that her decision--“

Wade held up her hand to stop him.  “No!  Don’t you take their side!”

“Damn it, Wade, I’m not taking sides.  I just think that..." He paused, unsure what to say.

“Think what?” she demanded.

“I think you’re being rash and making an unfair judgment,” he blurted.

“You think she was right to let Quinn die.”  Wade’s gaze was both accusing and sad.

“No,” he replied.  “I think Maggie was faced with an impossible situation.  If she’d tried to get help, Base could have killed us all.”

“They might not have!”  She kicked a small rock so hard that Rembrandt thought it might never stop rolling.

“And we’ll never know,” he said as calmly as possible.  “But I believe there is just what she did, and then there’s what we’d have done, and neither solution was right or wrong.  Either way would have been a gamble.  Maggie just played the odds she thought were best.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t see it that way.  You’re talking as if this was some card game; it was Quinn’s life.  And Maggie folded.”  She slammed her foot into another pebble, trying to keep from screaming.  She wanted to break something.

Putting his arm around her, Rembrandt waited until she wasn’t so tense.  “You can’t blame Maggie for this.  The only reason we wouldn’t have done exactly the same is that you and I would have died for even the slightest chance to save Quinn.  And you know that’s exactly what would have happened.”

Turning her head, she refused to meet his gaze.  She was having a difficult time trying to keep herself from crying.

Rembrandt held her more tightly.  “Wade...”

Sighing, she leaned against him.  “I’m sorry, Remmy.  I’m just angry.  I know I shouldn’t take things out on the others, but I can’t keep kicking rocks.  I’m probably going to have to make these shoes last for the rest of my life.”

He rubbed her shoulder.  “You’re right that they’re not what we had.  And they might never feel like family, but they are part of this group now, and that’s all we’ve got.”

“No.”  She wrapped her arms around Rembrandt and clung to him as if afraid he’d disappear into thin air.  “*You* are all I’ve got.”

-----

Maggie studied the ground in front of her carefully.  It wasn’t all that interesting, really.  Just brown dirt.  But she didn’t dare look anywhere else, for then her gaze might actually meet that of her fellow sliders.  She didn’t feel she’d ever be able to look them in the eye again.  They might not be ready to kick her out of the group, but she still felt guilty.

A hand suddenly landed on her shoulder, making her jump about a foot.

“Captain Beckett,” Arturo said softly, “I realize you’re in great pain right now, but we really need to get moving.  Church will probably be letting out soon, and we'll want to be as far away from here as possible.”

Maggie sniffed.  “Right.”  Shakily, she took Rembrandt’s offered hand and pulled herself up.  Then, hugging her arms to her closely, she started down the road.

“Maggie,” Remmy said, “it’s going to be alright.  Trust me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled sarcastically, risking a glance over at Wade.  Even in the months just following her joining the group, when they had hated each other the most, Wade had never looked at Maggie as cruelly as she did now.  Wincing, Maggie turned away, unable to think of anything worthwhile to say.

“Hey,” Rembrandt comforted her, “don’t worry about Wade.  She’s not really mad at you; she’s just angry at the entire universe right now.”

Abruptly, Arturo held out a hand, stopping them all.  “Do you hear that?”

Maggie strained her ears.  “Sounds like chanting, or singing.”

“Yeah,” Rembrandt agreed.  “But that ain’t no rock n’ roll.  Sounds like a funeral song.”

“Guys,” Wade said from behind them, “I think we’re in trouble.”

Four men with pitchforks had appeared at the end of the road.  A mob carrying similar weapons filed out of the church behind them.

“What kind of paranoid freaks keep an arsenal inside a church?” exclaimed Rembrandt.

“Run!” Arturo shouted as he took off down the road.

Dashing with all her strength, Maggie rounded a corner of a building, looking for some sort of hiding place.  It never failed.  They land in a perfectly nice, odd, little community and no matter how normal they pretended to be, someone was always chasing them with weapons.

“In there,” Rembrandt exclaimed, indicating a partially open barn nearby.  Quickly, they all crowded in, ducking behind bales of hay so not to be noticed.

An instant later, the door slid completely open, and a man was silhouetted in the doorway.

“It won’t do you any good,” the reverend said.  “Your mistress is not here, and without her, you have no power.”  He gestured toward the bales with his free hand, and men with pitchforks moved toward them and began tossing the piles of hay aside.

Prongs from one of the pitchforks jabbed through the stack of bales that Maggie was hiding behind.  She jumped backwards with a small yelp.  “Hey, watch where you stab that thing!” she shouted, knowing that they’d definitely spotted her and continuing to keep silent would be pointless.

Forcefully grabbing her arm, one of the men hauled Maggie over to the rest of the mob where she was suddenly surrounded by half a dozen pitchforks.  She shoved one away from her face.  “It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.”

Peering around a bale on the opposite side of the barn, Wade grimaced.  She hunched down again and scooted over to Rembrandt.  “When the fat ugly guy skewers Maggie’s head, I think it’ll cause a sufficient diversion for us to make it out that door,” she whispered, pointing across the barn to the exit.

Rembrandt gave her a disapproving look.

“Stop hiding,” the reverend’s voice ordered.  “Or we shall see if demons bleed.”

Wade grabbed Rembrandt as he started to stand.  “Remmy, don’t!” she hissed quietly.  “Those people want to kill us.”

“If we don’t do anything, they’ll kill Maggie now.”

"One to save three.  Maggie would do it," Wade fired back.

"But we wouldn't," said Rembrandt.

As Rembrandt stood, Wade took a deep breath before doing the same.  She held up her hands in a gesture of peace.  She noticed Arturo had also given himself up.

Maggie glared at the three of them.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Doing what you couldn't," said Wade, sounding more resigned than angry.

Giving her a sad glance, Maggie nodded.  “Thank you.”

-----

Somehow, despite the fact that she’d finally blown off some steam, Logan didn’t feel any better at all.  They all still loved Maggie.  Maggie was perfect.  Maggie was their little princess.

Logan growled silently.  Maggie was a bitch.  Maggie was just the same as her, damn it!  Why could they accept Maggie but not her?  She patted Snicker-doodle on the head and softly whispered, "You love me, don't you?"

The horse was indifferent.

Sighing, she allowed herself to pout for a while.  She needed some cheering up.  Normally, she’d shoplift herself a little something special, but this world didn’t even have anything worth stealing.  Although the townspeople seemed to think otherwise.

“Hypocritical bastards,” she mumbled as she stopped in front of the Mallory house.  They thought they were so damn religious and yet they still let innocent people die.  She’d read Lorna’s journal; she was a decent person.  She just did a few experiments and they labeled her a sorceress.  Everybody probably would have loved her and her science if she’d been born a boy and named Quinn.

The whole situation made her blood boil, for the more she thought about it, the worse the whole situation seemed.  Logan slammed the door, making the whole wall shake in the process.  In the stillness that followed, she heard some soft singing from the adjoining room.

It was Linda.  She stood amidst the dining room, oblivious to the world around her.  Swaying back and forth, she carried a small wrapped bundle in her arms, and was softly humming a lullaby.  Idly, Logan wondered what foolish soul in town would have entrusted their child to this nutcase, when she saw it was merely a bag of flour.

“It will be okay, sweetheart,” she crooned softly to the bag of flour.  “Everything will be alright.  I’d never let anyone harm you.  I promise.”

“Some promise,” Logan mumbled under her breath.  “They couldn’t have taken her from her own home without your help in the first place.”

“Would you have done any differently if you’d been in her position?” a familiar voice asked softly from behind her.

Logan wheeled instantly around, and came face to face with her own mirror image.  Dressed in a plain blue dress and white bonnet, Lorna Mallory looked every bit like the rest of the town.

“She stood by me longer than anyone else in this town, but eventually they managed to convince her too.  It’s not an easy thing to accept, the idea that your daughter is some sort of demon,” she said ruefully, watching Linda the whole time.

Then she glanced over at Logan.  “Come on.  One of us alone is enough to unsettle the entire town.  Two would probably cause a riot.”

-----

"So, how long have you been in hiding?" Logan asked as the two strolled through the edge of the forest surrounding the town.

"A few months.  I've been living in the outskirts, taking what I need to get by," Lorna replied.  "I guess I wasn't as careful as I thought.  But that's no surprise.  If I had been more careful, none of this would have even happened."

"The story of my life," muttered Logan.

"You know I tried to keep my discoveries to myself, but one day an experiment went bad and the whole town saw the explosion.  That’s when the rumors started, and before I knew it I was suddenly Lorna, the Evil Sorceress who consorts with the Devil and does his bidding here on Earth.  The lynch mob wasn’t too far behind.”

“Where you were tussled up to die by those you held most dear.  It’s almost like a soap opera!” Logan exclaimed.

“A what?”

“Never mind,” Logan said, exasperated.  “It’s just amazing how quickly your friends can turn into your enemies.”

“Well, I expected as much from my mother,” Lorna admitted sadly.  “She was a little bit unbalanced ever since my father died.  All she had left was God and me, and when the townspeople told her we weren’t on the same team, she got upset.  They convinced her to hand me over to them, and after she realized she was responsible for her own daughter’s death, she lost her mind.”

“Cute,” Logan mumbled sarcastically as she ducked underneath a low tree branch.  “But why did you just let them court you off to your death when you had enough wisdom to rule over them like a goddess?”

Lorna looked at Logan sadly.  “What good would that do me when deep down all I really wanted was to be normal again?”

Logan winced.  Normal was something she'd never be.

-----

The two re-entered the town, keeping out of the way as to not create any worse problems.

“I don’t understand why you have to leave today,” Lorna said dejectedly after listening to Logan’s story about parallel universes.  “We’ve only just met.”

Logan grinned at her double.  “This world might be fine for you - and it will be, trust me - but I need Pizza Huts, television, and jeans that cost more because they say ‘Calvin Klein’ on them.”

“Oh,” was Lorna’s confused reply.

"Look, I've got to be out of here in a few hours and there are these rules and… do you hear something?"

"Sounds like it’s coming from the square," replied Lorna.  "Come to think of it, why are the streets so deserted?"

The two rushed toward the square, keeping low.  When they arrived, they noticed a large stake had been erected and the square was filled with people bustling around.

Logan sighed.  “Crap.”  She ran a hand through her hair.  “I can’t believe they have the nerve to attempt killing me again.”

“You mean me,” corrected Lorna.

“Whatever,” Logan said before grinning.  “But they don’t know there’s two of us.  You still have any of your discoveries hidden?”

Lorna nodded nervously.  Logan draped her arm over her double’s shoulders.  “I think it’s time we adjust their point of view concerning who has the power here.”

-----

“This is all a big misunderstanding,” Wade told the reverend as she and the others were shoved into the town square.

He gently placed his hand on her head.  “There is no mistake this time.  I should have known demons could not be drowned.  Only the fire will take them from this world.”

“Did I mention we’re not demons?” she tried again.  “Because we’re not.”

“You think we’re the sorceress’s minions?” Maggie added.  “How do you expect her to react when she finds out you killed us?”

“After you are disposed of, we will find a means to remove her from our town as well.”  Turning, the reverend walked away.

“There’s not going to be anything left of your town if you get on her bad side, buddy!” Maggie shouted after him.

“Speak of the devil,” Wade said, titling her head in the direction of Logan who was walking toward them.  The townspeople all stayed clear of her.

Logan glanced at the growing pile of wood that the men were gathering, then she smiled innocently at her fellow sliders.  “What’s going on?”

“Just a little sacrifice to gain God’s favor,” Wade snapped at her.  “A human sacrifice!”

"Looks like they've got themselves an old testament god," Logan shrugged.  “So they kill a few worthless peasants.  Better them than us.”

“It is us, you blithering imbecile!” Arturo shouted as they all held up their bound hands for her to see.

“Well, you have to appreciate the irony.”  Logan started to laugh, but her amusement quickly faded as a few people approached her carrying more rope.

“Bad idea,” she told them, slipping her hands into her pockets.  When they continued toward her, she quickly lifted one hand and blew a fist full of powder at them.

“Anybody else wanna try me?” she asked as they fell back screaming and rubbing their eyes.

One man was brave enough to jump her, but she hit him with her other hand, sending him reeling in pain.  As she lowered her hand, only the other sliders were at an angle that allowed them to see the small knife concealed in her palm.

Logan cleared her throat.  “Now,” she shouted, “I think it’s time you all rethought your allegiances.”

The reverend looked about to faint as he moved forward.  “The Lord will surely smite the wicked.”

“He can bring it on,” Logan scoffed.  “Two can play this resurrection game."

“The Lord has done many miracles,” the reverend was sputtering.

Logan’s grin broadened.  “What, like this?”  She raised her arms and an explosion blew open the doors of the church, shattering the stained-glass windows.

“Did she just try to blow up a church?” Rembrandt gaped.  “Girl, that was A CHURCH!”

She turned and sauntered over to him.  “Oops.”

"Face it chumps, I'm your god now," Logan declared.  "And if any of you want to get out of this square alive, you're going to do things my way.  First on the list, I have an addition to our little bonfire.  Tie up the reverend!"

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Maggie asked in shock.

“I’m influencing a shift in power,” Logan replied.

"Sorry, Father," the townspeople muttered as they grabbed and bound him.  Logan nearly squealed with delight.  People were so easily turned.

"All right.  You've proven your point.  Just get us untied and let’s get out of here before we slide," said Arturo.

"Why should I?" Logan responded before moving to Maggie’s side and retrieving the timer from her pocket.  “Hate to have this become a Poptart.”

Maggie’s expression became one of complete shock.  “Not even you would--“

"No, I wouldn't.  But you all think I would, don't you?  You never came close to trusting me,” she blurted. “That’s all I want, you know.  But you just refuse to accept me.

“Would it have been so hard for you to be nice to me?  Maybe I need a little compassion!  Would it kill you to say that you’re glad I’m part of the group now?  Perhaps the occasional, ‘We love you, Logan.’  Or, ‘We know you tried to kill Quinn, but he’s dead now anyway, so why not let bygones be bygones?’”

“My god, you really are insane,” Arturo remarked.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t call the person who holds your life in her hands nasty names.  I’m just misunderstood.”  A smile crept across her face again.  “I’d like to see some groveling now.”

“We most certainly will not!” Arturo objected.

“Go to hell,” spat Wade.

“Darth Vader was a pain in the ass until two seconds before he died,” added Rembrandt.

“Alrighty then,” Logan said, throwing her hands in the air.  She turned to the crowd.  “Let the barbecue commence!”

-----

Sprawled across several bales of hey, Logan relaxed comfortably and enjoyed watching the other sliders squirm.  This was so sweet.  She could be amused by this situation for hours.  Or at least another five minutes.

Before anybody could start a bonfire around her companions, she got up.  The slide would be soon.  However much fun she was having, she didn’t want to cut things close again, and the others already looked royally ticked off.  “Okay, that’s enough, stop,” she ordered.  “They’ve learned their lesson.  Let ‘em go.”

One of the young men paused from piling more wood at Maggie’s feet.  As he stood, she head-butted him, practically knocking him back to the ground.  He looked to Logan questioningly.  “Your majesty?”

She grinned. She could get used to this.  Yet still, a world without fast food joints wasn’t one she particularly wanted to rule.  “You heard me.”

“But you will be much happier with new servants.”  He cast an angry stare in Maggie’s direction.

Her grin broadened.  He *was* fairly handsome.  Logan sighed.  “Everybody listen up!” she yelled, deciding it was time to stop playing.  “From now on, no more burning people.  And no drownings without a fair trial first.  Also note that your sorceress, goddess, queen, and ultimate ruler is capable of showing mercy.  So, that said, chop chop, let’s see some untying and releasing of my minions.”

The young man was indignant.  “But they have insulted you!” he objected before rubbing his sore head.

“They’re also my friends,” Logan told him.  “Let them go.”

The sliders all stared at Logan while the townspeople grudgingly released them.  Wade rubbed her wrist and then opened her mouth to give Logan a piece of her mind.

Logan held up a hand to stop her.  “You're welcome, Wade,” she said as if the others should all be grateful she’d just saved them.  “Now, we have a little while until the slide.  Should I see if there’s time for me to boss that cute guy around some more?  Since they’ve already got the fire all set up, maybe they could kill a chicken or a pig for me.  Oh, or perhaps a cow!  That would taste good.”

Arturo grasped her arm and escorted her in the direction of the Mallory residence.  “We’ll get lunch on the next world, Miss St. Clair,” he said through gritted teeth.

Eventually releasing her arm, the professor and the others all strolled ahead of Logan, clearly giving her the cold shoulder.  Except for Maggie who finally seemed to decide she could actually walk beside her.

“Baby-sitting me again, Captain?” Logan asked.

Maggie shook her head.  “Nah.  I thought you wanted a little leeway from that.”

“I thought you didn’t give a damn what I wanted.”

“I don’t.”

They continued in silence for a while.  “Back there, when you called us your friends...” Maggie finally started.

“Load of crap,” Logan said simply.  “Just lying through my teeth.  I strongly dislike all four of you.”

Maggie smiled at her.  “That’s what I thought.”

They all rounded a corner and abruptly stopped.

Standing there waiting for them was Lorna Mallory.

Logan smiled.  “Guys, meet my partner in crime,” she said.  “Lorna will be assuming the role of ultimate ruler of this earth upon our departure.  Which was the plan the entire time.  So you see that I never actually intended to roast marshmallows over your flaming corpses.  You really need to stop expecting the worst from me.”

“They’re all here,” Lorna called after the entire group was trapped between buildings.  Several men stepped from their hiding places behind them, blocking any chance of an exit, and trained pistols on the sliders.

Rembrandt looked from Lorna to Logan.  “Maybe you should start expecting the worst from you,” he commented.

-----

“Nice move, genius,” Wade commented, glaring at Logan as the five sliders were herded back to the town center once more.  “You think this one up all by yourself?”

Logan just ignored her, staring fixedly at her double.  “Let me guess, you invented the gun along with the gunpowder, right?” she asked in annoyance.  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Lorna smiled.  “I’m just taking back what was mine.  With you gone, I can have a place in this community again.”

“Then lose the gun, I’ve already got you covered there,” Logan said.  “Thanks to me, these hillbillies think you’re the conqueror of the universe.  You can decree that women can wear pants.  Or anything you want.  I’m leaving and it’ll be all yours, just like we planned.”

“Yeah, you’re leaving alright,” Lorna said, a gleam in her eyes.  “We’re sending you back to hell where you came from.”

-----

“I don’t hate you,” Wade said to Maggie during their short walk.

“You don’t have to forgive me just because you think we’re about to die… again,” Maggie told her.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Lorna commented, eavesdropping.  “I only need to kill her.”  She pointed at Logan.  “I can have the rest of you locked up and exorcised.”

Wade lowered her voice.  “I’m not forgiving you, but there’s a part of me that knows you did everything you could,” she whispered to Maggie.  “It just might take a while for me to listen to that part.”

Maggie nodded in understanding.  “I can wait.”

-----

The scene at the town square had barely changed in the few minutes since the last time she was there, but somehow Logan thought it looked a bit more forbidding this time.

The townspeople were still there and a hush fell over the crowd as Lorna marched Logan into their midst, the rest of the sliders in tow.

“Now here this,” Lorna shouted, stopping at the middle of the crowd.  “My name is Lorna Mallory, and there’s something you must know!

“For the past few months, there has been a demon living among you, and her name is Logan St. Clair.  She appeared from the other world in an explosion of light and, after taking my place, has since used her powers to manipulate our community for her own evil ends.  She is the evil creature here, not me.”

An anxious murmuring began to spread through the crowd, but through this Lorna seemed to gain strength.  “Now that I’m free, she has no powers as long as she remains in that body.  We must send this demon back to where she came from.  Who’s with me?”

A loud cheer spread throughout the crowd, and Logan suddenly felt her stomach sink.  This time, she was not in control of the situation, and somehow she doubted the other sliders would have it in their hearts to rescue her.

-----

“Why are you doing this?” Logan asked Lorna as her double tied her to a stake.  “You could’ve had more power over this community than a brand name has over teenagers!  I did this all for you!”

“Yeah.  And I do appreciate it,” Lorna replied.  “Your over the top performance makes me look good and wholesome in comparison.”

Logan couldn’t believe this was happening.  “You set me up!”

Lorna looked her in the eyes without regret.  “This is the only way to fix things.”  She backed away from the stake.

-----

“Okay, guys.  What’s the plan?” Maggie whispered as their guards were distracted by the events in the town square.

“I say we wait,” Wade said simply.  “The timer will probably still work even if the person attached to it is dead.  We can figure out a way to pry the pieces out of her on the next world.”

Arturo looked over at her, shocked.  “I can’t believe you just said that, Miss Wells!  It shows an appalling lack of understanding of chemical interactions.  If she's toast, so is the timer."

Rembrandt looked at both of them.  "Uh, guys, we're talking about a life here."

“She blew up a church and then had the minister hog-tied,” Wade reminded him.

“But still...”

"Oh alright, we'll save her anyway," said Arturo with an angry flip of his hand.

Wade sighed.  “Any ideas?”

“Yeah, actually,” Maggie said, bringing her hands out from behind her back.  The ropes that had tied them fell to the ground.

“How did you...?” Arturo stammered.

Maggie smiled.  “'Worst Case Scenarios.' It really is a cool book!”

-----

“Don’t do this,” Logan pleaded as her double came toward her with the torch.

Lorna Mallory ignored her, or perhaps didn’t even hear her.  She was chanting, along with the rest of the community, trying to get in touch with whatever god they worshipped that condoned such action.

Logan felt as though her senses had expanded to ten times their regular strength.  The soft chanting seemed louder than a rock concert to her, and the regular light of day seemed blinding.  The world seemed to move in slow motion, everything resting on the movements made by Lorna and her followers.  It was the first time in her life that Logan had ever felt fear like this.

With a whoosh, the brush around her went up in flames, and Logan instinctively tried to back away, colliding into the post that held her.

“No!” she shouted.  “Don’t do this!  You’re making a big mistake.”

Yet no one in the audience heard her.

Logan tugged at her binds, but the ropes held securely.  “Please,” she tried again, desperately, “somebody help me!

“Linda!” Logan cried out as her eyes connected to one of the people bent in prayer.  “Linda, please!  I’m your daughter!  How can you do this to me?”

The heat was becoming unbearable, and it was becoming harder to breathe.  Loud noises were all around her.  “Please, Linda!” Logan gasped out desperately.

“Mom...” she whispered as darkness began to claim her.

No one in the crowd noticed their apparent success in destroying the demon, however.  They were too busy diving out of the way from a charging horse.

“Yee-haw!!!!” Rembrandt shouted from the back of Snicker-doodle.  Behind them was a wagon carrying a full horse trough and a bunch of old blankets.

“Get out of the way!” Maggie yelled from the wagon as the horse barreled through the crowd.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lorna demanded, coming toward them angrily.

Coolly, Wade snatched a fallen pistol from the ground and pointed it at Lorna.  “Sliders don’t abandon their own.  Even if she is a back-stabbing bitch, she’s one of us.  And little pieces of metal seem much bigger when they’re ripping through your flesh, trust me.”

Lorna slowly backed off, allowing the sliders a clear path.

“Help us out with this, Mr. Brown,” Max yelled from the back of the wagon, struggling to help Maggie with the horse trough.  Now that the way was no longer blocked, Remmy was able to bring the horse in closer into the square, but still not all the way up to Logan as the horse was afraid of the fire.

Together, the four of them struggled under the weight of the horse trough.  With a heave, they managed to dump it over the fire in front of Logan, dousing the flames licking at her feet.

While the others hurried to control the rest of the fire with old blankets, Rembrandt hustled over to Logan to cut her loose.  Logan groaned, barely conscious.

“Good news, she’s alive,” he yelled as he dragged her from the inferno.

“So what’s the good news?” Wade asked snidely, checking the timer.  Logan might be one of them, but she didn’t have to like it.  “Well, we haven’t missed the slide.”

Digging into Logan’s pocket, Maggie found the other timer, deftly plugging it into its outlet on Logan’s arm.  “Slide is in five, four, three, two, one.”

The poor disheveled reverend gasped in shock as a sudden windstorm blew him onto his knees.  The square was suddenly bathed in blue, and it seemed a lightning storm had just let loose there.  A horse dashed by him in a panic, but he barely noticed that.

“Lord have mercy!” he murmured, crossing himself repeatedly.

“It worked!” Lorna Mallory declared.  “The evil ones are crossing over!”

Rousing slightly, Logan noticed the sliders and the open vortex.  It was time to make a hasty exit.  She tried to whistle for her horse but only ended up coughing.

“There will be groveling later,” Wade said, seeing that she was coming around.  “Lots, and lots, and lots--“

Logan shoved her into the vortex.  Arturo and Maggie dove in after.  Rembrandt stayed, keeping his arm around her for support.

Staring at the approaching mob, Logan watched her double.  She’d tried to give her the world, but all Lorna wanted was to be normal.  Logan turned her misty eyes to Mrs. Mallory.  “Your daughter is good,” she shouted over the sound of the wormhole.  “She’s not like me.”

With that, she stepped backwards into the event horizon, dragging Rembrandt along with her.

And abruptly the storm went away, revealing the empty square.

“We’re saved!” the reverend yelled.  Shouts of joy echoed out from all corners of the town in response, except from Lorna.  She silently left the crowd, heading off to comfort a skittish filly.
 

THE END