A lifeless woman's face protruded from the slick, scum-covered water directly beside him. She had been young, perhaps pretty before the plague disfigured her. Something about her was so familiar…
Her eyes snapped open, waxen and filmed over. Maggots poured from her mouth like wriggling screams.
He gasped when he woke up, nearly sobbing with relief when he recognized his surroundings. The moonlight streamed through the blinds like silver razors, painting his bedroom in glowing stripes. The terrors of his dreams quickly became just murky recollections, distant and indistinct from the rearview mirror of his mind.
He turned and she was there.
Sheila lay beside him, snoring softly. Her dark hair was wildly askew around her face like always, but to Steve she was the most beautiful sight in the world. Why did he think something terrible had happened to her? Distant thoughts rumbled somewhere in the back of his head, but he shoved them away. Everything was perfect with Sheila beside him. There was no room for questioning whether the moment was real, or the plaintive visions of a drowning man. All that mattered was the moment.
He touched her lightly, tracing a finger across her cheekbone. “Baby, I had the strangest dream…”
Her eyes snapped open, dark as polished onyx in the silver moonlight. Terror contorted her face into a fearful mask when she lunged at him and seized his shoulders. A single word tumbled from her quivering lips.
“Run.”
He clutched her arms. “What’s wrong, Sheila? I’m here. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
Tears slid down her face. “I can’t stop it. It makes me do…things. I don’t want to but it makes me.”
“No more, Sheila. You have to fight it. You have to tell me where you are.”
Her body convulsed and she went limp, sobbing in his arms. Her face was the worst. It was pale and slicked with sweat, so marred by fear that it was nearly unrecognizable. “Get away, Steve. I won’t be able to stop. I tried. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Just tell me where you are. I have a friend. We’re coming for you.”
“No.” Her voice altered, turning thick and guttural. Inhuman.
“No. Your Wardsman cannot stop me. I’m coming for you.”
A shadow coagulated behind her. The troglodyte filled the room with shadow as a multitude of tentacles unwound from its midst. The pale head had a face now, one familiar to Steve despite it being frozen in a skeletal grin.
The face was his own.
He emerged from the blue waters of the swimming pool, choking and spewing water. A strong hand seized him by the collar and pulled him to the safety of the concrete lip. The teletracker device was removed from his head as he hugged the edge, completely drained. Guy had to physically haul him out of the pool and lay him on the cold floor.
Steve blinked water from his eyelashes, staring at Guy’s impassive face. “Why…did you leave me in there? Why didn’t you come after me?”
“You just went in. Fell in the pool, swam back up. Couldn’t have taken more than six seconds.”
Steve pushed himself to a sitting position. “That’s impossible. I was…taken somewhere. Looked like a completely different country. Hell, looked like a completely different time…”
“I told you time is different for them. It’s all the same instance, simply multiple variations. What did you see?”
“The Black Death. I think, anyway. Thousands of dead, and the troglodyte was there. Then I saw…” His eyes blurred with tears. “I saw her. I saw Sheila.”
“Where is she?”
“I…don’t know.”
“You don’t know? That was the single purpose of you using that thing in the first place. We need to know who her next victim is.”
Steve raised his hands, not surprised to find them trembling. “I know who her next victim is.”
“Who?”
“Me. She…it said it was coming for me. It said you couldn’t stop it.”
Guy didn’t appear disturbed. “Did it say when it was coming?”
A flash of white cut off Steve’s reply. The pool frothed like a boiling kettle as it emitted beams of blazing light. A sinuous shadow emerged from the brilliant waters, lean and taller than any man. The troglodyte unfurled its slender arms and they became multiple tentacles, wriggling and wet as black ink. The stinging combination of sulfur and ammonia made Steve cover his face and weep in agony.
He was flung to the side as the tentacles whipped toward Guy. He gurgled as the serpentine appendages wrapped around his throat and yanked him ten feet into empty air. The troglodyte took its time stepping from the frothing waters, not even sparing Steve a glance as it focused on strangling Guy.
Steve was so terrified and half-blinded that he almost didn’t see the lithe, hooded figure that strode across the floor toward him. A silver dagger was in her hand, gleaming in the dim light.
“There. I see the car.” Quinn pointed to Steve’s faded Honda, parked next to a long, disheveled building that appeared to have once been some sort of community center. Like the community, the building had faded into derelict status, faded and forgotten as the business moved elsewhere.
Perfect place for a murder. She hoped they had made it on time and Steve was all right. He was a pain in the ass, but he was a good man.
Agent Plumm killed the lights on her SUV and quietly pulled over across the street. Pulling an H&K VP9 from the holster at her side, she gave Quinn a curt nod. “Let’s go, Detective.”
Quinn wouldn’t speak the words aloud, but she was glad Plumm decided to accompany her on the field trip. Unlike most federal agents Quinn had encountered, Plumm was decidedly open. She had listened to what Quinn had to say, fast-tracked the tail on Steve's phone, and even offered to accompany Quinn as backup. Keith was a sweet guy and a good partner, but he had appeared relieved when Plumm suggested he go home and check in with his family. Plumm was a seasoned agent, and appeared to know how to handle tense situations. All in all, she was an upgrade over Keith, no matter how guilty that made Quinn feel.
They crossed the busted street and cautiously approached the side of the building. Quinn tried peering through the windows, but they were boarded up. Nothing was visible through the cracks. She glanced at Plumm.
"How do you want to do this?"
Before Plumm could answer, the interior of the building flooded with light. It was so bright it streamed through the crevices of the boards. The flash was immediately followed by a single gunshot, overly loud in the empty neighborhood.
Quinn yanked her .380 from the holster and sprang into action with her heart pounding. Plumm ran alongside as they dashed to the front door. Plumm jerked the door open, and Quinn quickly ran through, fanning the immediate area with her weapon.
What she saw made her doubt her sanity.
Some monstrosity that seemed all shadows and tentacles dominated the scene, barely visible in the dimly lit pool area. Steam wafted from the water as if it was boiling hot, further limiting visibility. A man hung in midair, slowly being smothered by constricted appendages like an animal in a den of anacondas.
Steve stood a few yards away, a revolver in his hand. It was pointed to the ceiling, and Quinn was sure the sound she heard was him firing a warning shot. A short, slender figure in a hooded jacket approached him with the grace of a bipedal cat, clutching a dagger in one hand. Steve seemed to be pleading with the person, but it was hard to tell because Quinn's attention kept being distracted by the monster in the middle of it all.