Rushed

by Brian Harmon

  His phone remained dead.

  Nearing the top of the next rise, he turned back and saw that the creature was making its way down the previous hill, its snout to the ground, sniffing at his trail.

  Picking up his pace, he climbed the next hill and started down the other side. The trees were denser here, the jagged rocks less pronounced. The path wound around several mossy boulders and then cut through the dense underbrush at the bottom of the hill.

  As he reached the cover of the brush, he looked back again in time to see the creature crest the hill behind him. It lifted is snout from the ground and stared back at him, its oversized head cocked curiously.

  Movement caught his eye and he spotted a second creature making its way along the top of the ridge toward the first. A hot, twisting feeling grew in his gut as he wondered if the beasts would grow bolder in packs.

  Paranoid that they might chase him if he bolted, he forced himself to maintain only a fast walk as he moved into the cover of the brush.

  Ahead of him, the trees on the left of the path gave way to another cornfield. The path wound around behind the field, toward a number of small buildings about half a mile away. If he could reach those buildings before the creatures worked up the courage to run him down, he’d be fine.

  Looking back over his shoulder, he saw neither of them chasing after him.

  Then something growled at his left hip.

  Chapter Nine

  Having scratched the high dive off his bucket list already, Eric discovered that he might have had a promising future in either Olympic high jumping or on Dancing with the Stars. Although neither venue was particularly appropriate for the sailor-worthy curses that escaped him even as he realized the sound was nothing more than his cell phone vibrating.

  Clearly, he had returned to Wisconsin’s calling area.

  Hoping that, if nothing else, the creatures were now concerned about catching a freakish hopping strain of Tourrette’s and wouldn’t want to eat him anymore, he answered the damn phone.

  “How goes the quest?” Karen asked.

  “Peachy,” he replied, his heart still pounding from the fright.

  “You okay?”

  “For now.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just jumpy.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Not sure yet. Another cornfield. I see some buildings up ahead. I’m going to check them out.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Don’t go near any more wardrobes.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m over Narnia for good.”

  “I prefer Hogwarts anyway.”

  “Me too.”

  “Paul called. He said you asked him to pick up the PT Cruiser.”

  “I did.”

  “He said he’ll be over in a little bit to pick up my key.”

  “That was fast.”

  “He was concerned.”

  “I’ll bet. He probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.”

  “Well you are wandering around in a cornfield. Again.”

  “True.”

  Karen fell silent.

  “Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  Again, she fell silent. Eric waited it out. Behind him, the creatures still hadn’t emerged from the woods and he grew paranoid that they might try to circle around through the corn instead.

  “I really don’t think so,” she decided at last. “I mean, you sent me the pictures. Unless you’re playing a really elaborate prank on me—which I really doubt you’d be dumb enough to do—”

  “That does sound like a stupid thing for me to do.”

  “Yes. It does. But if you’re not…then I don’t know how else to explain it. Either this is all real…or…you’ve gone completely nuts.”

  “And that’s the simplest explanation,” Eric concluded.

  “You said you were seeing creatures that don’t exist. Monsters. You said you jumped fifty miles by walking through a barn.”

  “Well…I was told fifty miles. I don’t actually know it was fifty. Could have been just one.”

  Again, Karen fell silent.

  “So did you tell Paul I was going crazy?”

  “I told him about your dream. Not about…all the other stuff.”

  Nothing rustled in the corn but a faint breeze and the half-coyote-half-deer things had not emerged from the forest. He was still not halfway to the safety of the buildings and he did not even know for sure that those structures actually equated civilization and therefore safety. For all he knew, the buildings had been abandoned years ago and since claimed as dens for the very creatures he sought to escape. In that case, Karen might not be the only one getting her lunch delivered to her home.

  On the other hand, he didn’t know for sure that these things wouldn’t hesitate to follow him right up to someone’s door and disembowel him right on the welcome mat.

  “He was worried.”

  “I know.”

  Something rustled in the corn. Was it just the wind? A rabbit?

  “I think you should send him those pictures. Let him know what’s going on.”

  “You think so?”

  “Just consider it. Maybe he can help.”

  He searched the corn, but could see nothing.

  “Maybe. We’ll see. But listen, I need to hang up again for a little while.”

  “Okay. Call me back.”

  “I will.” Although he knew perfectly well that she’d call him long before he’d get around to it.

  Eric hung up and looked back the way he came. The absence of the creatures was worse than knowing they were following him. It was far too easy to imagine an entire pack of them gathering under the cover of the corn, stalking him, preparing to pounce.

  But nothing showed itself as he made his way to the far end of the field and around the curve.

  Ahead of him, the buildings loomed silently. Six small structures and one much larger structure were clustered around a center courtyard. Even before he reached them, he could tell they were no longer in use and his heart sank at the realization that this might not be the safe haven he was hoping to find.

  Now and then something would flit around in the field, and once a pair of crows shot up and took flight, startling him into another fit of cursing, but nothing more showed itself. The creatures were either uninterested or they were biding their time for some reason.

  In the dream, he recalled feeling nervous about the corn, about all the things that might be hiding in there, just out of sight, watching him. He remembered hearing a lot of noises in the field, but hadn’t seen anything to justify his fears. The strange hybrid of coyote and deer had still not shown themselves.

  Apparently, Dream Eric had arrived on time like a good boy and therefore didn’t have to deal with all this extra crap.

  Noises taunted him, the corn rustled threateningly, yet he somehow made his way along the road to the cluster of buildings without being set upon by ravenous beasts.

  As he walked out into the overgrown yard, he realized he was standing in some sort of abandoned campground. The six smaller buildings were cabins, the larger likely contained a meeting room and cafeteria, probably an office or two. He could see the posts where a volleyball net used to be, an old basketball court, a half-dozen picnic tables and several concrete fire pits.

  There was also an old, cheesy-looking totem pole displayed at the center of the yard. Most of the paint had faded or flaked away, leaving much of it unrecognizable without a close inspection, but the one on top was clearly a bird of prey with boxy, outstretched wings.

  As he looked around, everything he saw came back to him. Just like with the barn and the bridge, he had been here in his dream, which meant that this was precisely where he was supposed to be. But where, exactly, was he supposed to go from here? Grant had only told him to follow the path, which he did. He even crossed that stupid bridge.

&n
bsp; So where to now?

  Looking around, he caught sight of a hefty bald man in a pair of baggy shorts and a dirty tee shirt. He was walking out from behind one of the cabins and was now crossing the tall grass toward the front door of the main building.

  Taylor.

  Eric broke into a jog. “Excuse me! Hey!”

  But the man walked into the building without acknowledging him.

  Assuming he hadn’t been heard, Eric hurried after him. He had almost reached the building’s front steps when he suddenly realized that something was wrong.

  He stopped running and stared into the open doorway. This was remarkably similar to the man he’d seen leaving the barn and then entering the house. The residual man.

  He had followed that one into a place he wasn’t supposed to go. And here he was, chasing this person, merely assuming that it was the man Grant told him to expect.

  His eyes fixed on the darkened doorway, he began to back away.

  “Wise choice.”

  Twirling around, uttering an incoherent cry, he found himself face-to-face with an elderly black man with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

  “Sorry to startle you.”

  “No, it’s fine. You’d think I’d be getting used to it by now.” He glanced around the empty courtyard. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “I was in cabin four when I saw you run by.” He gestured at one of the smaller buildings.

  “Oh.”

  The old man was dressed in worn jeans and a light work shirt, not that different from Grant, he realized. There was a tool belt around his waist that appeared to contain very few tools, a stark contrast to the similar belt he’d so often seen Paul wearing while at work. His always looked so laden with heavy tools that he should barely be capable of walking.

  “I was hoping to catch you before you did something stupid, but it looks like you’re already onto that trick.”

  “Yeah. Fell for the residual thing back at the barn. Lucky for me, Grant saved my ass. I take it you’re Taylor?”

  “Taylor Parlorn.”

  “Eric Fortrell.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Eric.”

  “You the groundskeeper here or something?”

  “Not officially. But I do keep my eye on things.”

  “Because of the fissure,” Eric guessed.

  “Because of the fissure.” Still smiling, Taylor turned and walked toward the nearest cabin and Eric, having not been given any instructions on what he should do next, followed.

  “So you guys are what? The honor guard or something?”

  Taylor stepped into the open doorway and surveyed the interior of the cabin for a few seconds before pulling the door closed. Turning around, he replied, “Something like that.”

  Eric followed him to the next cabin. “What is this place? Or was, I guess.”

  Taylor stopped and turned to face him, his smile broadening. “About forty years ago, it was a naturist resort.”

  “Naturists?”

  “Naturists, nudists, whatever you want to call them. This was Gold Sunshine Resort.” He turned and continued to the next cabin. “Clothing optional. Naked people everywhere. Naked swimming. Naked sunbathing. Naked volleyball. Naked basketball. Naked campfire singing.”

  Eric laughed. He couldn’t help it. It just seemed so completely absurd that he should find himself in an abandoned nudist resort of all places. And then there was the way Taylor kept pronouncing the word “nekkid.”

  “I didn’t know there were nudist resorts in Wisconsin.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine it was all that popular a hobby in the wintertime, to tell the truth.”

  “I wouldn’t imagine so, either.”

  Taylor stepped into the second cabin and Eric followed. A piece of plywood that had been mounted over a broken window had fallen and was lying on the floor. Taylor picked it up, produced a hammer and some nails from his belt and fixed it back over the window. That done, the two of them exited the building and Taylor closed the door firmly behind them.

  “Something happened here,” Taylor said as he walked back out into the sun. “Something bad. I don’t recall which story was true and which were just rumors, but the place closed down. It’s been sitting here empty ever since.”

  The idea that something bad had happened here was unsettling.

  Eric turned and caught sight of the two creatures that had been following him. They were standing between the farthest two cabins with their backs to the cornfield. Apparently they were hiding out there. They had probably been watching his every move. As he eyed them, a third crept out into sight.

  Taylor followed his gaze. “I see you’ve got some admirers.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “They’re real curious creatures, but pretty well harmless.”

  “Are they?”

  “Oh yeah. Like most animals, really. I’ve never heard of them attacking a person. Not even in large packs.”

  “Huh.”

  “Ugly suckers, though, ain’t they?”

  Looking at their too-large heads and mangy hides, he couldn’t argue. But there was also something almost endearing about them, too, now that he knew they weren’t determined to tear out his throat. They had a characteristically puppy-like quality.

  Remembering the cell phone’s camera, he pulled it out and snapped a picture of the three animals. “I still have reception,” he noticed.

  “Yep. We’re in Wisconsin.”

  Eric sent the picture to Karen, thankful again for the opportunity to prove that he wasn’t completely out of his mind. Obviously, he was only partially nuts at best. “Speaking of Wisconsin,” he said. “How far have I gone this time?”

  Taylor gave him another endearing smile. “You’re about eighty-five miles north of where you left Grant.”

  “Sonofabitch.”

  “Pretty cool, huh?”

  It wasn’t entirely un-cool, he had to admit.

  Eric glanced around the resort. “So where do I go now?”

  Taylor scratched the gray stubble on his chin. “Well… That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  “There’s a problem?”

  “There is.”

  “Of course there is.”

  “You see, you’re supposed to follow that guy.”

  Eric turned in time to see the bald man making another trip into the largest of the seven buildings.

  “But I’m not supposed to trust them.”

  “I know. But he’s standing between you and the path to the cathedral.”

  Eric’s heart sank. “So this…him…whatever he is…set another trap for me. Except this time I can’t avoid it.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Another wardrobe monster?”

  “Wardrobe monster?”

  “The thing back in the farmhouse…” He shook his head. “Forget it.”

  Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know what you saw back at the farmhouse and I don’t know what you’re going to find in here. But I’m sure it’s going to be nasty.”

  “Great.”

  “If one of these things starts after you, it’ll keep coming until it catches you or loses its focus. If you can find a way to distract it, it’ll forget about you and go back to sleep.”

  Eric nodded. He recalled Grant telling him that the wardrobe monster wouldn’t harm him as long as he didn’t go back in to stir it back up.

  “It’ll have to be something big, though. You won’t be able to just throw a stick. It’s got to be something it won’t see coming. Something sufficient to tear its attention away from you utterly and completely.”

  “Like a tractor coming through the front door?”

  Taylor laughed heartily at this. His voice carried over the open fields around them and startled one of the curious, coyote-deer creatures into retreating a few steps toward the safety of the cornfield. “Oh damn…” he gasped, nodding. “Good old Grant. Yep. That’d definitely do it.”

  Eric recalled how close that stunt had be
en for him. If Grant’s timing had been just a little off, things could have turned very bad for him. At the time he hadn’t known why he would take such a risk, but now he understood. Anything less than that and the thing would’ve simply kept coming. It would’ve chased him down and killed him.

  Now he stared at the main building, wondering if he might not be running dangerously low on luck. He didn’t like the idea of going in there. He had no clue what might be waiting for him. And he didn’t have a tractor.

  Looking back the other way, he saw that all three of the creatures were still watching them. One was lying down, its oversized head resting on the ground in front of it, its big eyes staring back at him.

  “I’m not going to have any help for this one, am I?”

  Taylor was wiping at his eyes. The smile quickly faded from his kind face. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Do you at least know what I’m looking for? Where I’m supposed to go?”

  “The stairs at the back of the kitchen shouldn’t be there.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “They shouldn’t lead anywhere. But they do.”

  “Oh. I get it. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. And as for what he left for you… Just trust in yourself. You’ll find a way. Use the advantages you have.”

  “I don’t have any advantages.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Not unless blind ignorance and dumb luck count for anything.”

  “They do, actually. But you have more than that. For starters, you have the dream.”

  “The dream,” Eric repeated. He recalled Grant telling him that the dream would help guide him. It would show him things that were different between now and when he should have come. But he already knew something was different. The difference was precisely what concerned him.

  “Trust in yourself,” Taylor said again.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eric glanced back one more time at the creatures that were watching him and saw that they now numbered four. Another had joined the first three while he was looking the other way.

  He was willing to take Taylor’s word that they weren’t dangerous, but he still didn’t care for the idea of them gathering in large numbers.

  He walked across the courtyard toward the main building. It was still difficult to imagine people running around here naked.