Текст книги "Rushed"

Автор книги: Brian Harmon

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Eric continued on as well and soon found himself in what appeared to be the packaging area of the plant.  Here, silent machinery thrummed and immaterial workers prowled the lines, tending to invisible product.

Only about half of the machinery had returned here, however.  The conveyor belts abruptly began and ended over an empty floor.

Eric walked up to one of the conveyor belts and watched it run.  It looked so real.  And yet no machine in the world could run so silently.  He reached out and tried to touch it.  The entire line was gone just like the people he’d tried to touch.

A woman who had been standing beside the machine continued working, unfazed by the disappearance of her workstation.

He looked around the room.  He recalled peering into the corners, probing the vacant darkness.  Again and again, nothing was here.

Another corridor went on into the darkness ahead.  He turned and walked toward it.

He was ready to be gone from this place.

What was the foggy man up to here?  What was the point of bringing back all these people and machines?  Was he trying to hide something?  There had been more than enough opportunities to spring a golem on him.  If the purpose was simply to ambush him, why bring back so much of the factory?

A young man in a black tee shirt and dark jeans with no hairnet was walking toward him from the next corridor.  He recognized him.  This was one of the three men standing together in the storage room where he ascended the stairs to the second floor a short while ago, the one who had disappeared by the time he came back around.

Perhaps he was some kind of supervisor.  There might be offices down here, where hairnets didn’t have to be worn when the factory was up and running.  He didn’t like the wide open spaces of the factory floors, but the idea of searching dozens of smaller rooms was no improvement.

No longer concerned with avoiding the residual people, he passed within a few inches of the young man and had taken a couple steps before it occurred to him that he felt a breeze as he went by.

Startled by this realization, he turned to take another look at the young man.

Before he could face the stranger who walked among the ghosts, something struck him in the side of his head and the world swam away.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The world spun chaotically around him, swirling through his clouded mind as he struggled against the sleep that dragged him down into the darkness.

Pain filled his head.  He couldn’t think.

Eric had a vague sense of being dragged across the floor by his feet.  But that didn’t make any sense.  He was terrified, though he couldn’t seem to remember why.

A door rattled loudly open.  The noise seemed thunderous.

Sunlight flooded over him, stabbing at his eyes when he tried to open them.

He fell.  He landed hard on the ground and pain exploded from his head and shoulder.  The world swam briefly into focus.

Blacktop before his eyes.

He tried to move, but he felt so heavy.  He squinted up, trying to see where he was.

A pair of legs.

A voice.  Someone said something, but he couldn’t understand the words.  He still couldn’t think.

Then something struck the ground in front of his face.

Darkness came again, chasing away the sunlight, washing away the pain, leaving only peaceful sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The pain came back.

Eric awoke to a harsh buzzing noise that sent jagged shards of pain deep into his brain.

He opened his eyes, squinting into the blinding sunlight, confused.

What happened?

Where was he?

What was that awful noise?

Gradually, his eyes focused and he found himself on the ground, looking at his cell phone, which was lying on the asphalt next to his face.

It was vibrating.

Grimacing at the pain, he reached out and picked it up.  Immediately, it quit ringing and chimed at him.

He had a new text message.

Groaning, he sat up and looked at the screen.

THANK GOD!

As soon as he had read the message, the phone chimed again and the message changed.

THAT WAS SCARY!

“What happened?” Eric asked.

Again the phone chimed.

YOU WERE AMBUSHED

“Who?  The foggy man?”

WHO ELSE?

Who else indeed?  Eric rubbed at the swollen knot on the side of his head.  Slowly it came back to him.  The factory.  The residuals.  The young man in the black tee shirt and jeans.

A real person hiding among the residuals…

He felt as if he should’ve known.  But he’d been expecting more than a sucker punch.  He thought he’d find a golem.  He never expected to be attacked by a mere human.

The phone chimed again.

I DIDN’T SEE HIM IN TIME

“That’s okay.  Me neither.”  Eric realized that he had begun talking directly to Isabelle.  The phone did nothing but relay her messages to him.  Even from the other side of the world, she could hear him.  If his head wasn’t pounding, he might have found this unbelievably surreal.

YOU OKAY?

“I think so.  I have a pretty hard head.”  He rose shakily to his feet and groaned.  “Good thing, too.  What the hell did he hit me with?”

I DON’T KNOW

Looking around, Eric found that he was outside one of the factory’s loading docks.  The door was rolled up behind him.  He recalled being dragged across the floor.  There was a metallic rattling noise that must have been the door opening.  Bright sunlight.  Falling.  Landing on the hard asphalt.

The bastard tossed him out the loading dock door.

When he first looked down on this factory from the hilltop, it was standing amid hayfields with an old, paved road leading away from it.  But he could see no hayfields or roads from here.  A rocky valley stretched out before him.  Tall pine trees stood scattered across the terrain.  Once again, he appeared to have been transported out of Wisconsin and into a distant mountain range.

He recognized this area.  Eventually, he had found these doors in his dream.  He’d continued onward from here, along the valley.  He was back on the path.

Why the hell would someone club him from behind and then drop him off right where he’d wanted to be in the first place?  What was the point?

“Any idea where he went?”

I THINK HE WENT ON AHEAD

Eric gazed forward.  An odd-looking lizard was slowly making its way through the weeds where the broken blacktop gave way to hard earth and rock.  It was at least twenty inches long and bright red.  It had a long horn protruding from the top of its head.  He couldn’t recall ever having seen anything like it before.  It likely existed solely in the fissure.

It didn’t seem concerned with him.  Hopefully it was as harmless as the coyote-deer and the mutant livestock.

Again, Eric rubbed at the knot on his head.  He recalled seeing someone standing over him while fighting for consciousness.  Was it the foggy man?  Or was it someone else?  He didn’t recall seeing that weird illusion of invisible fog.  But then again, he hadn’t seen much of anything.  “I guess we should keep going.”

BE CAREFUL

He nodded and began walking, circling well around the red lizard.

Just in case.

The pain receded a little, but only a little.  His head continued to pound, his shoulder throbbed.  He ached all over.  But he was slowly regaining his focus.

Making his way through the valley, he checked the cell phone, but still it had no signal.  Only Isabelle could talk to him without a signal.

He also saw that his battery was starting to run low.  This surprised him a little, since he’d never had to recharge it after only a single day.  But then again, he’d never used the stupid thing this much.

He hoped it lasted long enough to see him through the rest of this odd journey.  As much as he hated the phone, he’d grown accustomed to having some connection with the world outside the fissure.

Besides, without the phone, he couldn’t talk with Isabelle.

He returned it to his pocket and glanced up in time to see a hawk soar overhead.

The pine trees grew denser, the terrain flatter, the ground rockier.  Then, just as quickly, the mountain terrain gave way to hayfields again.

His cell phone signal came back.

He’d missed only seven calls this time.

Among these missed calls, Karen had sent him the picture Paul took of the creature that chased him into the cabin.  It really did look like a little rhinoceros, except that it appeared to have legs more at home on a greyhound, though much shorter, and teeth similar to a boar’s tusks, though much bigger.

He’d almost forgotten about his brother’s sticky situation.

The next time he talked to Isabelle, he’d have to remember to ask her where Gold Sunshine Resort was located so that he could send directions to Kevin if he needed them.  But even as he made himself a mental note, his cell phone received a new text message.

I ALREADY TEXTED KEVIN DIRECTIONS

Right.  She could read his mind.  He kept forgetting.

“When did you do that?”

WHEN YOU WERE TALKING TO PAUL

“Oh.”

FORGOT TO TELL YOU

SORRY

“It’s fine.  So you talked to Kevin, too?”

I JUST SENT HIM DIRECTIONS

“You didn’t tell him who you were?”

I SAID I WAS A FRIEND OF YOURS

“Cool.”  Kevin probably wouldn’t have thought much about such a message.  He would have even dismissed the curious way Isabelle’s messages were always fast-tracked straight to the screen, never bothering with those YOU HAVE A NEW TEXT MESSAGE notices.  He would’ve just thought it was an odd glitch with his phone.

At least he knew Kevin was on his way.  Now he only had to worry about Paul remaining safe until he could arrive.  He would have to call him soon.  But for now, he might as well wait for Karen to call.  It wouldn’t be long now.

And it wasn’t.  Within a few short minutes, the phone rang.

“Aren’t you there yet?” she asked him.

“Not yet.”

“This is taking forever.”

“I know.  Some idiot keeps leaving weird stuff in the path.  How’d Toni like her cake?”

“Loved it.”

“I had no doubt.  How did you decorate it?”

“Clown.”

“Oh.  I don’t like clowns.”

“I know you don’t.”

“They’re creepy.”

“Mine wasn’t.”

“I’ll bet he wasn’t.  Your clown would be cute and cuddly.”

“Very cute and cuddly.”

“That’s your thing.”

“It kind of is.”

“I don’t know what it is.  You see a clown on television, he’s fine.  You see one on a street corner, he’s scary as hell.”

“Toni said good luck, by the way.”

“You told her about all this?”

“Just that you’d been having some disturbing dreams and now you’re out trying to clear your head.”

“That’s a nice, clean summary.”

“The thought of trying to explain the whole thing to her was just way too exhausting.”

“I know what you mean.”

“So now where are you?”

“The usual.  More fields.”

“How’d it go at the factory?”

“Exceptionally weird.  And painful.”

“What happened?”

Eric told her about the residual factory workers and its one not-so-residual resident.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.”

“Why would he hit you and then just dump you back onto the path?”

“I don’t know.  It doesn’t make any sense.  It’s like he just decided he wanted to go out of his way to hit me upside the head.”

“Well, there are days when I can relate.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I can’t figure out why he doesn’t just go to the cathedral, find whatever’s there and leave.  He had a huge head start.  Why does he feel the need to come back and torment me?”

“Maybe he can’t get at whatever’s in the cathedral.”

Eric considered this for a moment.  “That’s not a bad theory,” he decided.

“Maybe he’s already been there, but he can’t get to it, or else can’t find it, so he’s trying to slow you down.”

“That would make sense.  Except why just knock me out?  Why not kill me?  He definitely had the opportunity.”

“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?”

I DON’T KNOW

“Yeah.  I don’t know, either.”

DON’T PANIC

“Right.”

In his dream, he’d begun to move faster.  He did the same now.

Weaving between the rocks, following the stream, splashing through the water, Eric made his way deeper into the canyon, his eyes wide open for the slightest indication that he was no longer alone.

BE CAREFUL

Eric thought that went without saying.

He glanced back.  Still there was nothing.

He’d glanced back in the dream, as well, and something was peering back at him from behind a boulder, watching him with fierce, yellow eyes.

Only two days ago, there was a monster in this canyon.  Where was it now?

His dream began to unravel faster.  He hurried onward, weaving around the rocks, looking back and forth from the unending path before him to the danger behind him.  He saw the creature slip lithely from behind its rock and stalk after him.  It looked like a cat, a mountain lion, perhaps, but it was a deep shade of speckled red and appeared to have very long hair.

Dream Eric did not linger to appreciate the cuteness of a fluffy killer cat.  He began to run.

In the present, Real Eric began to run as well, his eyes wide open.  No such cat was visible today, but the terror of his dream fueled him.  He could not make himself believe that the same cat was not here at this moment, already preparing to pounce.

He remembered the beast charging.

He came to a stop as the memories came flooding back to him, and stared at the rocks ahead of him.  That was where it happened.  Where it would have happened.  He’d run for his life.  He’d leapt over that boulder, but the cat was faster, more agile.

It was on him in seconds, knocking him to the ground.  It dug painful gashes into his right arm as it pinned him to the ground.

Now, Eric seized the same arm, wincing.  He could actually feel the pain as the memories overwhelmed him.

He tried to defend himself, but the cat was so strong.  It snapped at him.  Its teeth were so big, much bigger than any cat’s teeth.  And its ears were wrong for a cat.  They were long and floppy.  And something about the nose wasn’t quite right either, but he couldn’t recall it exactly.  He’d only had a moment to take these things in before the beast that wasn’t quite a cat bit off half of his right hand.

Eric looked down at his hand, the same hand, trying to grasp the absurdity of remembering this hand without three of its fingers, without half the palm.

So much blood.

He couldn’t breathe.

He remembered.  God, he remembered it all, every excruciating detail.

He’d clutched for something—anything—to fight the monster off.  It slashed him with its claws.  It nearly tore his ear off!

Its back claws dug into his legs, holding him down.

He was going to die.

Eric pressed his hands to his face, trying to force away the image of those horrible, blood-covered teeth snapping at him, but it wouldn’t go away.  The dream was going to reveal itself and he had no choice but to watch.

The pain was excruciating, but still he struggled.

His cell phone chimed again.  He looked down at it, numb with shock at the things he was seeing.

GOD, ERIC…

Still, the memory unraveled.  Somehow, his left hand fell on something.  A rock.  His fingers wrapped around it.  He swung it.  He missed.  He swung again and clipped the beast’s bared teeth.  It roared at him.

In the present, Eric opened his eyes.  There was the rock, lying right where he’d found it, unmoved because he never actually came here that day, never had to face the hell cat.

He remembered thrusting the rock upward.  His aim was true.  The narrow end of the rock struck the creature in the eye.  It roared with pain and leapt off of him, shaking its head.

He scrambled away from it, his eyes searching the ground for a better weapon.  He found another rock.  One with a sharper tip.

He could see that rock too, lying near the base of the canyon wall.

Dream Eric stood up and faced the cat, threatening it with the sharp rock.

He could see himself, his mangled hand dripping blood, more blood running down his arm, down the side of his face, down his legs, soaking his shirt and pants.

The cat-thing seemed to consider this weapon.  It wasn’t impressed.  It moved closer and he thrust the rock’s tip at it, aiming for its eyes, though he wasn’t quite close enough to reach.

The creature stopped.  It eyed him carefully.  It almost seemed to calculate the situation.  Then it began to back away.

Even in a state of shock, Dream Eric had realized that it wasn’t over.  The cat wasn’t stupid.  It hadn’t managed to kill him, but it wasn’t over.  There was no reason to risk being struck by the rock.  Its prey was badly hurt.  It wouldn’t be much longer.

It retreated back into the canyon from which it came, but it didn’t go far.

Eric’s eyes scanned the walls.  He could still see no sign of the cat, but this was an excellent hunting ground.  He had no doubt that if it wasn’t here now, it would soon return.

Isabelle sent him another message:  GET OUT OF THERE!

He paused long enough to retrieve the pointed rock from the dream.  If the cat put in an appearance today, he’d at least have something to jab into its eye from the start.  Now armed—though he’d much rather have one of Father Billy’s assault rifles—he moved on, still shocked by the horrors he’d just recalled.  And still the memories continued to play out in his mind.

Wounded, bleeding profusely, nearer to death than he’d ever been in his life, the Eric of two days ago had continued on, desperate to get out of this canyon before he collapsed and became an easy meal for the clever cat.

He recalled using his shirt to slow much of the bleeding, but he couldn’t stop it.  Not all of it.  Death had become a grim probability.

Now, two days after that encounter with the cat that never actually happened, Eric followed the stream along the canyon floor, his eyes scanning every rock, every crevice, searching for the beast he knew would try to kill him because it had already happened…even if it hadn’t actually come to pass.

All this insanity was beginning to make his head hurt.

As he rounded the next bend, he came upon a pool of blood beside the water and bent to examine it.

He was no hunter or tracker, but even he could tell that something had been badly wounded here recently, probably within the past couple hours.  Maybe sooner.

In his dream, he’d stumbled through this area, watching the rocks above him, occasionally catching sight of a dark, red shape moving along the rim above him, watching him, waiting for him to collapse and serve himself politely up for dinner.

He saw no blood in his dream, except of course for his own, which he left in frightful quantities.

Perhaps today the cat had found another meal.  Perhaps one of those coyote-deer had wandered through the canyon, or even an ordinary deer.  If that was the case, then perhaps the cat was fed and napping, unconcerned with Eric’s trespass.

That would be a stroke of luck.

He followed the trail of blood along the stream and around the bend, cautiously peering around each rock.  The last thing he wanted to do was walk up on the thing and surprise it during its meal.

A dreadful thought occurred to him suddenly.  He imagined turning a corner and finding the beast snoozing among the carnage of its last kill.  Among that carnage would be his own face, inconceivably dead even as he stood staring at himself.

It didn’t even make sense, yet the image was so profoundly terrifying that it nearly paralyzed him.

After all, he could hardly expect that anything was really impossible after all he’d seen and done today.

But as he made his way around a pair of fallen boulders, he found that there was nothing left to fear.  The trail of blood led him directly to the still body of the cat itself.

Things had happened so quickly in his dream that he didn’t get a really good look at the beast.  Now he saw that it was at least as big as a full-grown tiger.  It had an extra-long, bushy tail and paws the size of a grizzly bear.  It was amazing the thing hadn’t killed him instantly in his dream.

But then again, if it was a cat, perhaps it liked to play with its food.  It was a gruesome idea, but one that might explain why Dream Eric still lived.

The beast lay collapsed on its side, its eyes glazed and staring up at the rock walls of the canyon.  A drying pool of blood had spread around it.

In his dream, he’d kept going, managing somehow to remain on his feet, all the way to the canyon’s far end.  He hadn’t seen another predator.

What could have killed this thing?

But then it came to him.  What was here that wasn’t here in his dream?

Isabelle answered the question for him:  THE FOGGY MAN

Yes.  The foggy man.  And given that he’d just put in an appearance back at the factory, it was obvious that he didn’t have that big of a lead on him.  He would have only been by here in the past hour.

The foggy man had dispatched the cat that would have nearly killed him had he arrived two days ago when he was supposed to.  Had the foggy man, then, just saved his life?  That would be an ironic twist in all this.

But the three golems had been more than proof enough that the foggy man wasn’t here to protect him.  Likely, the cat had merely inconvenienced him as he passed through.  The foggy man was probably sure enough of himself that he didn’t feel the need to let the cat finish him off.

Still clinging to the pointed rock, just in case, Eric left Fluffy where he lay and continued on.

Above him, the walls began to recede and withdraw and the rocky ground gave way to soil and trees.  Soon, the canyon began to give way to a forest where he recalled making his way from tree to tree as the cat prowled along behind him at a distance, watching him, waiting for him to topple over.

His cell phone began to vibrate in his hand.  It was Isabelle.

“That was terrifying!” she announced as he lifted the phone to his ear.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you.  I’ve never heard of anything like that in the fissure before.  I had no idea it was out there.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I can’t expect anyone to know everything.  Not even you.”

He kept looking around, still expecting to see something stalking him among the rocks.  Fluffy’s mate, perhaps.

In his dream, he struggled to keep going, staggering, fighting to remain conscious.  He was beginning to think he was about to recall every detail of his own, gruesome death.

But it wasn’t long after the last remnants of the canyon were out of sight that he came across a paved, two-lane road.  And there, about a hundred yards to his right, stood a small gas station.

“I see something,” he told Isabelle.

He remembered stumbling toward this station in his dream, somehow still on his feet, desperate for help.

He also remembered what Father Billy said about being helped by the “gas station attendant” and that he would likely meet him later in his journey.  Clearly, coming across this place was no coincidence.

“That’s an odd place,” Isabelle observed.

“What?”

“There’s something strange about that place.  What is it?”

“It’s just a gas station.”

“Weird…  I couldn’t quite tell.  It’s different.”