“I don’t know. But I’m definitely glad he didn’t.”
“You and me both.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Definitely. Hey, have you heard from Paul?”
“He called a while ago and said Kevin and Damien were on their way to pick him up at the resort.”
“Good.”
“He said a friend of yours sent Kevin directions. Isabelle?”
“Yeah. She’s pretty awesome like that.”
“She is.”
“I should call and make sure he’s still okay.”
“You should.”
Eric said goodbye and dialed Paul’s number as he scanned the fields around him. He seemed to be alone for the moment, but the foggy man couldn’t be far.
Paul answered on the second ring.
“You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay! The stupid thing still won’t let me out!”
“Still?”
“It’s just lying there! Sleeping!”
“Did you try sneaking out while it was asleep?”
“It jumps up and charges the door! Last time, I think I heard the wood crack.”
“Patient little freak, isn’t it?”
“No shit!”
“Have you heard from Kevin?”
“He called a few minutes ago. They should be here any time. But I don’t know what we’re going to do when he gets here. I’m guessing the stupid thing isn’t going to let them out of the truck.”
“You’ll figure something out.”
“I guess we’ll have to.”
“Just remember, I told you not to follow me.”
“I know! Don’t be a shithead.”
“Oh, I definitely reserve the right to be a shithead.”
“You would.”
“Yes. I would. You’re lucky that’s all you ran into. It could be a lot worse. The thing in that biggest building would be just as relentless, but it would’ve ripped the roof off that cabin and kept coming.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Any time.”
“I’m going to hang up now and keep waiting for the cavalry.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Eric hung up and chuckled. “Serves you right.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eric continued on. Time passed. The fields gave way to a rocky, brush-strewn hillside and the path began to wind down into another wide valley. Again, the land took on that deeply shadowed look, though the sky remained clear and bright. And the stifling summer air was suddenly cut by a cool wind, as if a storm were approaching.
He scanned the area all around him, alert for any sign of movement. Something he had never seen before would likely be appearing any moment and he was sure it wouldn’t be anything as benign as the curious but harmless coyote-deer or a few mutant chickens.
He wasn’t sure how much more of this his poor heart could stand.
The ground grew rockier as he reached the bottom of the valley. And as he followed a narrow stream around the base of a hill, he found himself descending into a deep, rocky canyon. Everything his eyes fell upon came back to him from the forgotten memory of the dream, as vivid in his mind as it was to his eyes in the present.
The shadows grew even deeper as the rock walls rose on either side of him. He had no idea how far the canyon went. He couldn’t see the far end. That peculiar chill in the air grew even colder. The sickening dread that had filled his belly since he first discovered the barn at the far end of Annette’s field began to burn hotter within him. He caught himself holding his breath as he gazed up at the high walls that held him prisoner on this path, unable to go anywhere but forward and back, and back was apparently not an option.
Something was wrong here. He couldn’t recall exactly, but he sensed that something in this place had frightened him in his dream.
But so far he remembered nothing but these same sheer walls and this winding stream.
He tried to make himself relax. There was nothing here. He was alone. Being jumpy would not help him avoid hidden dangers. It would only make things worse when they finally revealed themselves.
One step after another. Eyes wide open. Aware and alert. This was clearly the path. The dream told him so. He needed only to keep moving.
But then he paused as a memory finally surfaced. Though nothing appeared now, he suddenly remembered that he had seen something in his dream, something high up on the ridge, looking down at him, a hefty, menacing shape.
In the dream, he had begun to hurry. And he hurried again now.
He scanned the canyon walls, looking for the shape from his dream, but it was not here. Not yet.
For the time being, at least, he seemed to be alone.
But just two days ago, something had been prowling this canyon.
He stepped through the narrow stream, unconcerned with keeping his shoes dry. (They were still damp anyway from his trek through the swamp.) He made his way between the rocks, clambering past boulders and trying to watch both the walls above and the ground where he put his feet.
A broken ankle would do nothing to help him survive whatever hunted here.
In his dream, the creature had disappeared. He had no idea where it went. He prayed that it had simply slunk away.
Here in the waking present, he felt a deep, rising dread inside him as he realized that the dream was about to become a nightmare.
He considered turning back, but at this point he was already too far within the canyon to see where he entered. It might be quicker to continue forward. Besides, the creature in his dream had already seen him. It might have seen him this time, too. It might be stalking him even now. Turning back might only bring him face-to-face with the beast even sooner.
He needed to trust the dream. That’s what he had been told. The dream had always shown him the correct way. The dream didn’t take him into Altrusk’s house. The dream didn’t take him to the wardrobe. He only experienced those awful places because he left the path laid out for him in his dream, the path he would have taken if he’d arrived before the foggy man, safe from his nasty tricks.
Many of the things he’d seen today were not to be found in his dream. Two days ago, he never spotted a coyote-deer. He never ran afoul of Furious George with his terrible teeth. But there had also been things in his dream that weren’t here today. There was the thing swimming in the swamp, for example. It never showed itself to him today as it apparently would have two days ago. Maybe this would prove to be the same.
He scanned the walls on either side of him, watching for a prowling shape.
The dream continued to unroll in his mind, revealing itself to him as it would have happened. He was afraid in his dream. And he was afraid now. Something lived in these rocks. And he was sure it was still here somewhere. In both times, it remained nowhere to be seen.
He followed a bend in the stream, where the canyon floor grew narrow, and peered up into the crack of sky above him. The walls were at least sixty feet high now. There was no way out but back and forward.
A lone hawk was circling high above.
He glanced behind him as the previous section of the canyon was obscured by the crowding walls, and recalled that he’d done the same in the dream.
In the dream, he glimpsed a shape bounding along a high ledge, following him.
His fear swelled, both in his dream and now, though he saw no such shape today.
It was not his imagination. Something was here. It had been here two days ago and it was here now.
“Isabelle?”
Immediately, his cell phone chimed a message.
I’M HERE
“Are you seeing this?”
I AM
“What is it?”
I DON’T KNOW
He turned in a circle, scanning the rocks all around him, looking for some sign of something watching him, but still there was nothing.
I DON’T REALLY UNDERSTAND THE DREAM, BUT I KNOW IT’S REAL. WHATEVER YOU SEE WOULD HAVE BEEN HERE TWO DAYS AGO
“What should I do?”