ON EDGE (Decorah Security) (4 page)

Deeper
, he chanted.
Deeper. You’re going deeper
. At the bottom, he could see a green glow and felt a surge of victory. It was like the glow from the night before.

There was no sensation of needing oxygen. He was one with the water, like a real sea lion, able to hold his breath for half an hour. And no sensation of pressure. He could go as far down as he needed, except that his outstretched hands hit a barrier.

He cursed under his breath. He could see the green light ahead of him, but there was no way to get through to it. Pulling out the knife, he slashed at the transparent barrier that held him back. The blade struck something he couldn’t see and couldn’t cut.

That sent his anger flaring. Like that stupid discussion with Dr. Leonard. He’d made a mistake challenging the doctor, but he wasn’t going to make a mistake now.

Anger isn’t going to do you any good
, he told himself.
You need to relax. You need
to let it happen.

Forcing himself to calmness, he gathered his resolve.
You want to go there. It’s important to you. You have to cut through the force field
, he told himself as he used the knife in a steady stroke that was slowed by the water.

It worked. He kept at it and cut himself a hole in the membrane and stepped through in a gush of water.

He’d dived into the lake wearing a bathing suit. But on the other side, he was in clean dry clothing—jeans and a dark tee shirt, actually. There was no billboard advertising the location, but he knew he was in the other plane.

Last time he’d come to this plane he’d still been in the hospital. This time he was in a jungle clearing walled in by thick greenery.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw that the water had disappeared entirely, swallowed by the thick foliage The tee shirt he wore felt familiar, but he hadn’t worn jeans since he’d lost his leg.

Lost his leg?

Apparently that wasn’t true here. Under the well-worn material, his body was whole again, and the jeans felt good against his skin as he flexed his leg, then tested his balance. He took a few steps and dragged in a breath, grateful to be standing on his own two legs again.

“Don’t get used to it,” he warned himself, as he looked around, wondering if he had trapped himself by coming here. Or was there some way to get out?

He’d never sunk so deeply into a trance that he couldn’t wake himself up, but now he sensed that if he tried, it wouldn’t work. He’d forced his way in here, and he was reaping the rewards—and lack thereof.

He kept the knife in his hand as he looked around the clearing, probing his surroundings. The place smelled damp and richly verdant. A tropical environment with thick loam underfoot and some familiar plants he might have seen in an office building or greenhouse back in Maryland—only a lot bigger. Palm trees, trailing vines with huge leaves. Trees with bright orange or white flowers. Others with thorns on the trunk. Giant ferns with huge fronds rising up from the ground.

Was this place some kind of alternate reality, or was he making it up as he went along? Like the change of clothing.

“So transform from a jungle into a park in Maryland. Or how about the orchard where I used to play when I was a kid?”

The suggestion had no effect.

A small movement caught his eye, and he saw a bright green poison dart frog. Nearby huge ants climbed up and down a tree trunk.

In the thick foliage, animal sounds and flickering shadows warned him of danger.

He tensed as a large cat came padding out of the foliage, its eyes a bright blue, its orange coat spotted black and green. It was no creature he had ever seen on earth, but then this wasn’t the real world. Still he closed his fist around the handle of the knife, waiting.

The predator paused for a long moment, looking at him, their eyes meeting. He tensed, waiting for it to spring. It growled, a low menacing sound that was almost like words—in a language he couldn’t understand. A warning, he thought.

Long seconds ticked by before it padded back into the foliage. As he watched it disappear, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

The cat had looked like it was considering if he was worth eating. Apparently not—this time.

Could it hurt him? Could he die here? Not by having a mind vampire suck out his soul but by getting mauled and eaten by a predator. He’d rather not put the concept to the test.

He looked back again, to the place where he thought the water had vanished. He couldn’t be sure now because one patch of jungle looked a lot like the rest. But he’d come here to find Ariel, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to do it by standing in this clearing.

He saw trails leading through the foliage, but which one should he choose? When he looked down at the ground, he saw many prints. Some looked like they could have been deer or elk. Some were much larger, like the feet of giant lizards.

It brought back the memory of the prints he’d seen in the orchard back home when he’d been young. Had the animals he’d seen at the edge of his vision come from this place?

He didn’t know, but as he stared at the evidence of their comings and goings, he saw something that definitely wasn’t made by an animal—prints that might have been from a woman’s high heeled shoe—like the ones Lilith had been wearing the other night. He felt a shiver ripple over his skin. Was
she
here? She wasn’t the one he had come looking for, but she might be the one he would find.

He started down one of the trails, pulling low branches, fern fronds and vines out of his way, and occasionally chopping at them with the knife. Watchful, he kept glancing down at the prints on the ground and probing the foliage on either side of him. He heard sounds, as though something were keeping pace with him.

An animal or a human?

Or were there any humans here? Was Lilith human? Was Ariel?

A wind came from nowhere, whipping the foliage and pressing at his back, like a hand hurrying him along, deeper into the strange place.

Somewhere in the jungle he thought he heard laughter, and it wasn’t a friendly sound. He had the sense that someone was stalking him, not an animal, but a presence more dangerous.

Heat shimmered around him, and moisture dripped from some of the trees, sending drops splashing onto his head and shoulders.

Ahead of him, through the foliage, he could see the rays of the sun bouncing off of something huge and white—a building or a cliff.

That gave him pause. He had left the hospital at night. And last time he’d been in the alternate reality, it had also been night. Now sunlight was filtering through the leaves above him. Was this the place connected to where he had met Ariel—or somewhere else? That thought made his stomach muscles knot. He had come here to find her, but what if he’d done the exact wrong thing?

The jungle stopped abruptly, and he halted in the shade, blinking as he looked out over a green lawn sparkling in the sun. On the other side was what he’d seen through the trees, a large building made of white stone, with intricate designs carved along the top and bottom edges. The shape of the place was vaguely Indian with a dome on top. Two wide steps led up to arched colonnades that ran along the front and sides of the structure. Beyond them, he could see a courtyard with a fountain spraying a jet of crystal water into the air. At the edges of the courtyard were beds filled with a riot of bright flowers, and beyond the open space he could see a shadowy interior, but he couldn’t tell what was in there.

Music floated toward him, something exotic and vaguely Indian, like the building.

He stared at the twenty-yard stretch of manicured green lawn, dotted with sunny yellow flowers that separated him from what he had started to think of as a temple. It looked inviting, beckoning him to the structure beyond.

Is anybody there?
The words trembled on his lips, but he didn’t speak them. Somehow it felt like breaking the silence was the wrong thing to do. Better to cross the lawn and investigate for himself, yet something about that innocent stretch of ground stopped him.

He stayed where he was, staring at the temple. As he searched for signs of life, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A figure walked across the courtyard, a dark-haired woman wearing a sari of bright fabric and sandals. His heart leaped.

“Ariel?” he shouted.

She looked up, shock and then alarm registering on her face as she realized who had called out to her.

“Frank.”

“Thank God,” he heard himself answer. He’d come here looking for her, and he’d feared his journey into this place might be for nothing, but she was really here. Was that building her home? Or what?

She charged down the steps and stopped at the bottom.

His chest tightened as he gazed at her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. Her violet eyes regarding him with a mixture of wonder and fear.

When he took a step forward, she held up her hand. “No. Stay there.”

He paused, and she asked, “How did you get here?”

“I fought my way in.” He started toward her, and the fear in her eyes exploded.

As he stepped onto the lawn, she screamed, No.”

But it was already too late. A large ugly hand emerged from the grass, a hand that was human in shape but covered with reptile-like skin. It whipped out and caught his ankle, clamping around his flesh, claws of steel digging through to the bone.

Chapter Four

Frank cried out in pain and shock and went down on all fours. More hands reached through the grass and soil, grabbing him, pulling him downward. From somewhere in the jungle, he heard the laughter again, only louder. And this time he knew it was Lilith enjoying his plight.

Had she planned this?

He stopped thinking about her and focused on freeing himself, trying to ignore the gouges of pain where the claws dug into his arms and legs. Fumbling in his waistband, he pulled out the knife, discarding the sheath and slashing at the nearest hand. Blood fountained from the wrist, and he heard a muffled scream from below the ground echo through the still air.

But wounding one hand wasn’t going to do the trick. It seemed he was in a field of monsters who stayed below the ground, reaching up to claw at him and keep him from going back or forward.

Another hand clawed for the knife, and he lashed at the fingers, drawing more blood and another muffled scream.

He ignored his own pain and kept fighting the hands, pulling and cutting himself free. It was a shorter distance back the way he’d come, but he kept struggling toward Ariel.

When she stepped onto the grass, fear for her shot through him.

“Go back,” he shouted, even as he fought for his own life. While his attention was split, two of the hands clamped onto his leg and pulled.

He felt a searing agony, heard a horrible ripping sound and his own scream. Not just his scream—Ariel’s.

Looking down, he saw that two of the hands had wrapped themselves around his leg and ripped it off, along with the leg of his jeans, leaving him with a bloody stump. It was the leg he had lost in Iraq, and now it was gone again, yanked away by the monsters below the surface of the lawn. He fell over, landing on the grass, still fighting and slashing at the hands, knowing they could rip off more of his limbs, and he was stuck here.

The grass below his body was soaked with his blood, and his vision fogged.

He was going to die here from blood loss. Through the fog he could see Ariel coming toward him, leaning over and waving her arms in a horizontal motion. As she moved above the hands, they vanished back into the earth, leaving a path where she could travel safely. She reached him, making a low, moaning sound as she took in the missing leg, the mangled stump, and the blood.

Grasping him by the shoulders, she began to drag him toward the building. He tried to help her by pushing with his remaining leg. Centuries later, they reached the steps where he collapsed. As blackness closed in around him, he looked into her eyes, seeing her anguish.

oOo

Frank wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious. He woke and lay very still, evaluating his physical condition. He’d had his leg torn off by savage reptile-like hands, yet now there was no pain and no feeling of being drugged, either. In fact, he felt as fit as he had before he’d hypnotized himself and come to this place.

Wondering what he was going to see, he opened his eyes —looking down his body, which was covered by a light but richly patterned blanket that reminded him of an Oriental rug—only softer and thinner.

The monster hands had ripped off his leg, leaving a terrible wound. He should be dead from loss of blood, but when he pulled the blanket aside, the leg looked the way it had when he’d dived into this world. He ran his hand down his thigh, past his knee to the place where the leg should end. The leg was intact. There was no pain anywhere in his body. It was like the monsters had never touched him. Did that mean that no injury here was permanent? Or, more likely, had Ariel saved him, the way she’d saved Gordon in the hospital?

Relieved by his physical condition, he glanced around. He was in a comfortable room, lying on a low couch that was covered with rich fabric. The couch rested on a large Oriental rug scattered with bright cushions. Gauzy fabric hung in front of arched windows and also in front of a doorway. A low brass table sat in front of the couch. On it was a silver cup. He propped himself up and reached for it. Lifting it to his lips, he drank water that tasted like it came from a pure mountain stream.