The Waking Dreamer (5 page)

At once, the world around him—the mundane, listless world he had left behind and the unknown, new world he had just discovered—fell away, consumed by a torrent of agony. It was as if fire were feasting on his flesh. It was a pain of the most unnatural and unbearable kind, in which a human feels life being ripped away.

The creature tightened its grip on Emmett’s neck. He struggled to breathe. The pain burned under the creature’s grasp, and it didn’t die away. It was seeping into his tissues and deeper into his muscles—first at the base of his neck and creeping outward toward his collarbone and abdomen. His body could not endure the violation, and every aspect of his mind still able to focus cried out for release … or a quick death.

He looked at the monster—it could be called nothing else. It spread its wide lips once again in a feral grin to reveal rows of jagged fangs. It seemed drunk on Emmett’s fear and delighted that its prey finally looked upon it. Emmett willed his body to fight back, desperately urging his body to fight or to flee, but his limbs would not respond. He could do nothing but heave uncontrollably, swallowing the earthy, peat-like stench of decay that seemed to wreath the figure like a dense, unseen fog.

With a final choking breath, Emmett meant again to cry out for help, to scream for someone or something. When no words came and his body remained unresponsive, he allowed himself to look directly into the eyes of fear and terror, and in that moment a memory began to unfold somewhere in his mind.

… a river … there were rivers … and there was water. Vast, endless water. Skies pregnant and swollen with storm clouds that rained endlessly … rained for so many days that the waters became endless as the darkness was endless … as dark as the eyes that stared at him … eyes that had seen the rain and the waters … and pain, endless pain … searing and ravaging and burning as the world was rent apart, and into the deepest fissures poured the many waters until nothing on the land remained but the wetness of the earth that had wept for far too long …

Pain.

In the present, in the harsh winter cold, and in the shadow of the deeper forest, Emmett Brennan understood that he was dying. Whatever the creature was, it would penetrate every space within his body and suckle greedily on his very essence. And somehow, Emmett understood that it would not permit him the release of death. He would not die soon.

When will soon be now?

Emmett’s eyes rolled sideways, and if not for the creature’s claws around his throat, he might have shouted a warning to the bronze-skinned, amber-eyed woman he could now see across the field running toward them.

CHAPTER 4

Through his darkening vision, Emmett watched the amber-eyed woman leap through the air. The creature’s grasp around his throat released suddenly, and as the creature spun around, Emmett fell backward. The woman landed on the soft grass only feet from the monster, twirling sideways out of reach of its claws. The creature and woman moved with such swiftness that both were a blur to Emmett’s eyes; the monster brought its rending claws around toward the woman, who spun again in a complete circle, pirouetting out of reach with startling speed.

She was a young woman with dark, flawless skin, with long brown hair tied back behind her head and an athletic, toned body dressed in form-fitting black clothes that all but concealed her in shadow. Her glittering, round amber eyes lit up the night, meeting Emmett’s for the briefest moment as if to confirm that he was still alive. She nodded at him once with a confident expression, seemingly unafraid of the monster she fought.

Emmett watched, transfixed as her arms, previously tucked close against her, suddenly sprang outward in a flurry of motion. Twin black serpents with glowing black eyes lashed out as she spun twice more away from the creature, striking the creature’s skull with a cracking sound. In response, the creature reared to meet her change of direction. Still she managed to pirouette just outside the danger of its outstretched claws. Just as suddenly, her body contorted and the motion carried her backward again, forcing the creature to double back after her in a maelstrom of movement. Emmett had no time to think before reacting with a forced roll to avoid the creature’s stampede.

Seeing Emmett cower on the ground, the monster turned on him only to have the woman step within reach, as if luring it back toward her. It responded with an anguished cry that mangled the air. The creature crouched low and swiped at her knees, but she easily stepped out of its reach, sweeping upward with a high kick. The creature pounced, sailing toward her, yet just as effortlessly, she thrust both arms outward, dove headfirst to the ground, and tumbled several feet from the monster before rolling onto her feet and continuing her seeming dance.

The woman would step in with a forward slashing motion, her arms whistling as her twin serpents sliced through the silent night’s chill. With the same fluid motion, she would spin to the side with a backhand motion, striking at the creature’s face while remaining just outside of its reach. Emmett could see that she was drawing the monster away. With every twirl, she lashed at the creature’s eyes and face, and with each counter of its claw, she would dance back two or three paces.

There was a sudden explosion of sound somewhere in the forest, a low, booming roar that rocked the trees. The woman reacted first, turning toward Emmett as she lashed across the creature’s face with both serpents.

“Stay down!” she yelled to him.

Another boom shook the earth, and there was yelling somewhere in the distance. A robed figure flew backward through the air out of the forest and crashed down on the ground near where the woman and the creature were still fighting. More screams erupted from the trees as another robed figure ran out and away from the fighting, pursued by a blond-haired man with an angular jaw whose open palms were pointed out before him.

The blond-haired man stopped and pointed one finger at the fleeing figure in the distance. Pursing his lips together, he produced a shrill, bleating whistle. A clear, rippling force rushed through the air and lifted the robed figure into the air and flung the figure twenty yards across the clearing.

The robed figure nearest the fighting managed to stand. His middle-aged, pockmarked face scowled at Emmett as he brought his hands up to his chest, motioning as if forming something in the air before him. He was chanting something, his discordant syllables tearing at the very air itself. Emmett watched with horror as the man’s face began to contort, the features stretching as if made of hot wax. The man thrust his hands toward Emmett, and a globe of shadowy substance hurtled toward him.

Emmett had little time to react as the blond-haired man sprinted between Emmett and the oncoming darkness. Turning to face it with his raised palm before him, he released a single note of harmonious, pure sound that seemed to dissipate the shadows inches before they reached him. The robed figure had already renewed his chanting, but the blond-haired man raised his arms out and produced a reverberating, cavernous note that flung the robed figure high into the air. He fell to the ground again upside down, landing awkwardly on his neck.

The woman was still fighting with the creature. She bled in several places where its claws had torn across her tight black clothes. She spun back out of the creature’s attack and brought both her serpents across its eyes, spraying what must have been its blood across the ground. The creature pitched forward and screamed, the sound nearly bursting Emmett’s ears.

The woman spun around one final time, her serpents wrapped around her arms as she grabbed something fastened to her back. Both hands swept upward holding a long staff that pierced through the creature’s chest and out its back. Its claws grasped the shaft protruding from its chest, its mouth agape gurgling oily substances before collapsing forward to the ground.

His apparent saviors exchanged nods with each other as each surveyed the area. The woman knelt over the creature’s rapidly decomposing body. A pervasive stench filled the clearing as the creature’s form bubbled and dissolved into the ground.

Whether it was to run back to his car or to run into the forest, Emmett did not know. But he tried to stand and immediately felt an overwhelming wave of heavy nausea bear down through his head and pitch his body forward. His vision blurred as bile rose in his throat, and he felt the torrent of pain in his neck from where the creature had strangled him. He ground his teeth and willed himself to remain conscious.

“Hold on, mate,” he heard a curiously accented voice say. The man was looking at him even as he was checking the nearest robed figure for a pulse. Emmett tried to focus through the pain by staring at his rescuer: effortless blond hair, clear green eyes, and the strong jaw and nose that gave one the appearance of having been lovingly chiseled from granite. Broader and taller than Emmett, he wore a well-fitted pinstripe shirt and slacks that were smudged with mud.

Emmett tried to breathe deeply and slowly through his mouth. He felt a sharp, biting pain in his chest as he did so and, after holding his breath, suddenly gasped for more air. Pulling down his hoodie’s zipper, he saw his neck was covered in black, rotting gouges, tortured and disease-laden skin cracking off along its torn edges. It looked as if his neck had been burned severely and deeply, and that now the skin, still alive somehow, was dying anew from the sickest sort of infection.

“All right?” the blond-haired man asked as he crouched down in front of Emmett. “My name’s Keiran. Is that your car at the station, then?”

Startled, Emmett looked back at the woman who had walked over to the other robed figure lying motionless further away.

“Huh? What?” he sputtered.

“Is that your car at the station?” the young man repeated, pointing in the direction of the gas station when Emmett did not respond.

Emmett mumbled something and stared blankly back at the man, feeling the pain coursing through his body.
I’m in shock. This is what shock feels like.

The young man waited a moment before leaning toward him. “Is that your car, mate?” he asked more pointedly and slower, as if to focus Emmett only on his words.

The stranger’s green eyes directly met Emmett’s gaze, and in that brief moment Emmett saw a confidence in him, the same confidence he had seen in the woman.

My car. Low on gas.
Emmett’s mind began to regain its focus.

“Uh … yeah, right,” Emmett struggled.

“Good. Are you alone out here?”

Emmett was nodding, clenching his jaw from chills that wracked his body in the cold air. The blond-haired young man, Keiran, pursed his lips and whistled a sweet note that seemed to linger even after he had finished. Emmett felt a rush of warmth envelop him. The bitter December air felt immediately like Caribbean-kissed trade winds caressing his body.

“What the hell?” Emmett recoiled.

Silently, Keiran stood up with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. For some reason, in the midst of the bizarre and grotesque night, Emmett noted the young man’s smile with a moment of clarity. It was a grin that signified a superior knowledge without being mocking, aloof without being apathetic. It did nothing to remove the horror of what had happened, and yet it calmed him somewhat from its effects.

The woman had returned to stand next to Keiran. Both serpents were coiled around her shoulders, both heads looking behind her into the darkness.

“The Underdweller’s nearly gone. We’ll need to bury the Revenants. Were there others?” she asked as she motioned to Emmett.

“He said he was alone. That’s his car back there.”

The pair turned to look at Emmett, who was only catching half of what they were saying to each other. His mind was racing with countless questions, things he wished to scream aloud even as he ran to his car. Yet when he tried to push himself up to stand again, he immediately fell forward. It was only the woman’s swiftest movement that caught him. She gently lowered him down with her body so that he lay across her knees. Cradling his head in her hands, she ran a finger across his forehead and swept the sweaty mat of tousled black hair from his face so that her eyes looked down into his.

“I can slow it from spreading until we get him to the Grove,” Keiran said standing over them. “But we’ll need the Archivist to fully heal him.”

Keiran’s words were lost on Emmett as he stared silently into the woman’s eyes. They sparkled as if a great swath of the sky had been drawn down into a crystal goblet. For the briefest moment as he looked up at her, his mind stirred once again with the odd feeling of familiarity.

“My name is Amala Amjadi,” the woman said. “And this is my Companion, Keiran Glendower. We’re going to help you. This will be difficult for you to believe, but that Underdweller—the creature that attacked you—has infected you.”

Emmett wanted almost to laugh, to recognize verbally how ridiculous the situation was—the creature, his apparent saviors, each individual detail playing out in his mind like one of hundreds of films he had watched over the years. He needed for it to be a farce, unwilling to recognize how seemingly close he had come to death.

“Underdweller?” he scoffed. “So what’re you two … monster hunters?” he mocked before coughing and wincing at the pain it caused.

Amala glanced up at Keiran. Emmett observed the deliberate sort of unspoken interplay between them, the look of closeness they shared.

Amala reached for Emmett’s neck and traced her finger down the side of his cheek and toward the edge of his neckline just beneath his ear. Emmett’s body reacted with a shock of pain that lanced through his body, causing his limbs to jerk out uncontrollably, his teeth to clench, and his voice to turn into agonizing moans.

“I’m sorry, but you’re still in danger. That pain is from the Rot, an Underdweller’s curse. It has marked you.”

Needing to confirm the reality once more, Emmett touched the blackened skin himself and gasped at the pronounced pain, a pain that brought startling clarity.

“The Rot will consume your flesh first, and it will continue to grow more painful as it spreads into your chest. It will then fill your bloodstream and choke your organs. It’s eating you alive, and if you do not come with us, you’ll soon be dead.”

“Come with you where?” Emmett asked hurriedly. “Who the hell are you two?”

Everything was changing so fast, details rushing at a mind already struggling to right itself. His mind wanted to deny it, yet already he could feel a restriction in his breathing, as if some unstoppable force were slowly closing his throat. Facing his own death for the second time that night, Emmett struggled to bring order to a chaos of wailing, conflicting voices, his thoughts racing too quickly.

Run away from them.

“I’m going to need you to trust us.”

Find the nearest hospital and call the police.

Emmett again tried to stand, to walk on his own. The world turned upside down before he could stand. With a weakness crippling his entire body, he fell forward again.

Lie down and go to sleep. Hope that all of this is an elaborate nightmare.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in firm, strong hands that had kept him from harm. He was being lifted up by Keiran, his head pitched backward in a fight to stay conscious. His eyes rolled, half-open and unable to focus on the rapidly-changing world around him. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind as he struggled to mumble something, anything, to his two saviors, but he could only bite down against the discomfort and disorientation.

They were walking together back to his car at the gas station. Amala opened the rear door, and Keiran laid Emmett on the backseat. He stepped back as Amala swooped in behind him to hover briefly over Emmett, her hand gently caressing the side of his face as her starry eyes looked with disgust at the work of the Rot.

Emmett watched her movements slow as his vision seemed to blur. The pain was lessening somehow, and Emmett felt the immense weight of fatigue dragging him backward into sleep.

Go to sleep. It’s just a nightmare … a dream … yes, it must be a dream. And the amber-eyed woman is here, too, just like all the dreams before.

As if hearing his thoughts, the woman’s serpents suddenly spun around her neck and turned their glowing black eyes at Emmett. The woman’s starry eyes registered momentary confusion, followed by wide-eyed shock.

“Emmett?” she whispered as his eyes finally closed.