Eighty feet above the surface of the water, the bridge was clearly the product of an evil and deranged mind.
Gingerly stepping out onto the planks, he felt it immediately begin to sway beneath his weight. The crows took flight, apparently smart enough to know the makings of a disaster when they saw it.
It was frightening as hell. Yet even as he eased his weight out onto it, he realized he had done this all before.
In his dream.
At least he knew he was going the right way. Now he only hoped that he wouldn’t get out over the middle of this gorge and suddenly recall that his dream ended with him plummeting to his death.
Although heights generally didn’t bother him much, it was already clear that he was going to make an exception in this case.
Not feeling any giddy urges to run out and jump up and down, he stalled a moment by studying the transformed landscape around him. But this turned out to be a poor decision as he had barely surveyed the trees behind him when he caught sight of a creature watching him from the cover of the brush.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Eric breathed.
The thing was still too far away to see clearly, but it resembled a cross between a coyote and a deer. It had short, powerful-looking legs, a long neck and a blunt tail. Its head looked too large for the rest of its body and it appeared to be covered in blotchy, gray fur. It was clearly far more agile than the nightmare livestock he’d observed while passing through the barn. Even as he watched, it stalked closer to him, one paw after the other, oversized head low to the ground.
The thing was not even remotely familiar. For some reason, it had not been there in his dream. He’d set out across the bridge without seeing anything more frightening than the bridge itself.
He didn’t like that the creature was new. New was bad. New was unpredictable. New meant that he couldn’t rely solely on his dream to get him through this ordeal.
Obviously, he was done procrastinating. He turned back to the unpleasant task at hand, gripped the thick cables and began making his way across.
Almost immediately, he was impressed by how utterly terrifying the experience was. The whole structure swayed beneath him, tilting him left and right with each step, threatening to tip him over the edge and send him speeding toward the water below with far less poise and grace than an Olympic high diver and at least as much noise as a terrified teenage girl in a Halloween haunted house.
About a third of the way across, he risked a look back.
The creature had advanced, but it wasn’t stalking him across the bridge. Instead, it was busily sniffing the path where he’d walked, studying his scent.
Maybe it wasn’t interested in a snack. Maybe it was only curious about him.
Or maybe it just liked to smell its food before every meal.
He sensed that this was neither the time nor the place for reckless optimism. He turned his eyes back to the planks in front of him and continued across the bridge. The closer he crept toward the middle, the more the bridge moved beneath him. He could feel every faint breeze that blew past.
Glancing back again, he saw that the creature was sitting at the end of the bridge, watching him.
It was probably waiting for him to fall. That would save it the trouble of catching him. And the impact would likely tenderize his flesh nicely. Yummy.
Or perhaps it was just waiting for his clumsy ass to reach the other side so it could cross without him shaking the bridge to pieces from under them both.
Carefully and far too slowly, Eric made his way past the middle of the bridge. He could hear the planks creaking, threatening to snap.
He didn’t like this at all. His heart was racing. His hands ached from gripping the cables with all his strength. His body was tense, his teeth clenched. Afraid that the mere sight of the chasm beneath him would freeze him with fright, he kept his eyes fixed on the path at the far side of the bridge.
He could feel himself trembling. It wouldn’t have surprised him if his very heart gave out before he could reach the safety of the far side of the gorge. But with one step after another, he made his way steadily across.
When he was nearly at the end, he realized that he was muttering curses and couldn’t quite remember when he started doing that.
Finally, he stepped onto solid ground again and turned to face the creature, convinced that it would be charging toward him.
But it remained where it was, watching him, apparently uninterested in eating him, but perfectly content to watch his amusing antics as he fled.
Wondering if it would eventually come after him or if it would simply wander off again, but not waiting to find out for sure, he hurried along the path, up the next hill and into the next valley, where the trees grew thinner still and the jagged rocks jutted even more prominently from the ground.
The forest that had mysteriously appeared from cornfields was itself quickly giving way to what looked like the foothills of a mountain range. The hills grew taller and steeper and rocky bluffs broke the earth like great, yawning grins.
Behind him, the creature had not yet followed him over the hill and he could see no other signs of life to give cause for concern, but he kept his optimism reigned well in.
The path wound to the bottom of the valley, followed it down for about a hundred yards and then jutted up and over the next rise. Eric followed it step-by-step. Grant had warned him not to leave the path, and he intended to obey him to the letter. He did not even dare to cut the corners for fear that he might find himself rapidly and unexpectedly plunged into an even stranger and more hostile landscape.
His phone remained dead.
Nearing the top of the next rise, he turned back and saw that the creature was making its way down the previous hill, its snout to the ground, sniffing at his trail.
Picking up his pace, he climbed the next hill and started down the other side. The trees were denser here, the jagged rocks less pronounced. The path wound around several mossy boulders and then cut through the dense underbrush at the bottom of the hill.
As he reached the cover of the brush, he looked back again in time to see the creature crest the hill behind him. It lifted is snout from the ground and stared back at him, its oversized head cocked curiously.
Movement caught his eye and he spotted a second creature making its way along the top of the ridge toward the first. A hot, twisting feeling grew in his gut as he wondered if the beasts would grow bolder in packs.
Paranoid that they might chase him if he bolted, he forced himself to maintain only a fast walk as he moved into the cover of the brush.
Ahead of him, the trees on the left of the path gave way to another cornfield. The path wound around behind the field, toward a number of small buildings about half a mile away. If he could reach those buildings before the creatures worked up the courage to run him down, he’d be fine.
Looking back over his shoulder, he saw neither of them chasing after him.
Then something growled at his left hip.
Chapter Nine
Having scratched the high dive off his bucket list already, Eric discovered that he might have had a promising future in either Olympic high jumping or on Dancing with the Stars. Although neither venue was particularly appropriate for the sailor-worthy curses that escaped him even as he realized the sound was nothing more than his cell phone vibrating.
Clearly, he had returned to Wisconsin’s calling area.
Hoping that, if nothing else, the creatures were now concerned about catching a freakish hopping strain of Tourrette’s and wouldn’t want to eat him anymore, he answered the damn phone.
“How goes the quest?” Karen asked.
“Peachy,” he replied, his heart still pounding from the fright.
“You okay?”
“For now.”
“What’s wrong?”