Rushed

by Brian Harmon

“Crazy,” she said again. “I can’t believe she’s been there this whole time.”

  “I know.”

  “Wow.”

  “Did you find anything about Isaac Altrusk?”

  “I didn’t. I should look for him.”

  “Isabelle said it was a fake name. He was a con artist before he became…whatever he is now.” Eric recalled Isabelle telling him that he used to be Isaac Altrusk, but now he was just Altrusk. Her words were no less creepy now than they were then.

  “I’ll see if I can find anything. You keep that boat on top of the water.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  “Bye.”

  Eric pocketed the phone and resumed his paddling. A full minute had not passed before the phone rang and he had to stop again to answer it. This time it was Paul.

  “Hey. I just turned off the Interstate down here, looking for your Cruiser.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I finished early. I brought Kevin to drive my truck back.” Kevin was Paul’s nineteen-year-old son.

  “Thanks a lot. I appreciate it.”

  “Sure thing. What’s going on, anyway, where are you?”

  He considered lying, but he didn’t see the point. “I’m in a leaky old boat, trying to make my way across a lake without any oars.”

  “Okay…” said Paul. “That’s…um… Okay. So you’re okay, then? Doing all right?”

  “Yeah. Just tiring. Hard to row with your hands.”

  “Have you tried using your shoes?”

  “Thought about it. But a shoe doesn’t have much more surface area than your hand, when you think about it.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Eric smiled. It was always fun tripping up his brother. Thinking of Isabelle, he asked, “So you think I’m completely bugshit yet?”

  “I wouldn’t say completely. Yet.”

  “What did Karen tell you?”

  “Just about the dream.”

  “It was more than a dream. It was all real.”

  “Real, huh?”

  “Yeah. Everything’s coming back to me. And then some. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen today. I don’t even know where to start. The mutant livestock. The wardrobe monster. The nudist resort. I was almost eaten by a goddamn house!”

  “Nudist resort?”

  “Really? All those things I just said and that’s what you want to hear about?”

  “I’ve never been to a nudist resort,” Paul pouted.

  In the background, Eric heard Kevin announce that he wanted to check out the nudist resort.

  “You’d make an awful nudist,” Paul affectionately informed his son.

  Eric heard Kevin point out that nobody would want to see Paul’s fat ass naked, either.

  “It’s been abandoned since the seventies,” Eric said.

  “Bummer.”

  “You don’t believe a word I’m saying, do you?”

  “I believe something’s going on,” Paul assured him.

  “Right. Well then, hang up.”

  “What?”

  “Hang up. I’ve got something I want to send you.”

  “Okay…”

  Eric disconnected the call and located his picture of the ape creature. He sent it to Paul’s phone and then resumed paddling while he waited for him to call back. It didn’t take long.

  “Hello?”

  “What the hell is that thing?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I just barely got into this boat before it tore my face off.”

  “That’s the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  In the background, he heard Kevin exclaim something about the thing’s wicked-looking teeth using more expletives than strictly necessary.

  “I wish I could tell you it’s the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen, but this guy’s not even close to the same level of freak as Altrusk.”

  “Are you really serious? I mean, really? This isn’t some stupid practical joke?”

  “Because everybody knows what a mean practical joker I am?”

  “Well… No. I guess not. I just… I mean… This is weird, okay?”

  “I know it’s weird. I’m the one out in the damn leaky boat without any oars!”

  “Eric, this is really messed up. Maybe we should come find you.”

  “No. You can’t. I don’t even know where I am right now. I could be hundreds of miles away. And it’s way too dangerous to come the way I did. There’s way worse things than that pissed-off monkey blocking the path.” Specifically, he was thinking of the resort monster waiting to devour anyone who passed through the kitchen to use the stairs to Altrusk’s yard. “Just get my car back home for me, okay? I’m going to have to go. I have to bail the water out of my boat again.”

  “You’re really in a damn boat? Really?”

  Eric held the phone out over the water as he splashed with his free hand. “This is the sound of me paddling a goddamn boat with my hands,” he said loudly enough for his voice to carry to the receiver. Putting the phone back to his ear, he said, “Good enough?”

  “I believe you.”

  “Good. Now really, I’ve got to hang up before I sink.”

  “You’re going to call me back, right? Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Call Karen. She’ll catch you up. She can send you some more pictures, too.”

  “No shit?”

  “None at all. Now I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay…”

  Eric hung up the phone, considered it for a moment, and then snapped a quick picture of himself giving a thumbs-up against the backdrop of the lake. He sent the picture to Paul and then pocketed the phone and began splashing water out of the bottom of the boat.

  When he’d rid himself of as much lake water as he could, he sat up and looked around.

  He was still a long way from the far shore. And he had no idea what might await him when he finally reached it.

  As he dipped his hand into the water again, his eyes drifted back to the dock and the path that led into the forest behind it. Over the tops of the trees, he could just see one of the highest peaks of Altrusk’s house.

  It still felt wrong that he was leaving Isabelle.

  But he had no idea how to help her. All he could do was hope that someday he could find a way to come back for her.

  It was the only thing that made it bearable.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eric eventually found that by stretching out over the bow of the boat and dipping both hands into the water on either side, he was actually able to propel the craft at a more respectable speed.

  The downside was, of course, that the bow of the boat was hardly designed for comfort. It was especially uncomfortable on his left shoulder, where the resort monster slashed him as it tumbled off the roof of the Altrusk house.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on the water now. At least an hour, he was sure, maybe much closer to two. His exposed arms and the back of his neck were beginning to get sunburned. With no warning that he was about to embark on such an adventure, he’d had no more opportunity to apply sunscreen than he’d had to retrieve the first aid kit from the PT Cruiser’s glove box.

  He was about to take a break, perhaps bail some more water, when suddenly the bottom of the boat ground against the bottom of the lake.

  Surprised by this abrupt end to his forward momentum, he sat up and looked around. The lake was no longer a lake at all. It had suddenly transformed itself into a marsh. Huge trees loomed ahead of him, creating a dense canopy that plunged the surface of the water into eerie shadow. Looking back the way he’d come, he saw that there were more trees behind him that he did not remember passing. He could not see the dock at all.

  Checking his phone, he saw that he no longer had reception. He’d drifted back into the gray zone.

  Yet these trees were familiar. He’d seen them in his dream. He searched the water around him and then saw it there, the other boat, drifting lazily between two trees, abandoned by the foggy man as he
continued forward through the marsh on foot, just as he now recalled having done in his dream.

  He peered over the side of the boat, down into the water. It was obviously only a few inches deep if the boat had run aground, but the mud and silt made it impossible to see anything down there. The stagnant stench of rotting vegetable matter rose up around him.

  This was going to suck.

  A lot.

  Consigning himself to the unpleasant task at hand, Eric clumsily stepped out of the boat and stood up in several inches of mud and soggy leaves.

  To say that trudging forward was unpleasant was akin to saying that gas prices seemed a smidge high. The air here was heavy with humidity. Every step was a labored effort, and produced a foul odor that seemed to wrap him in an inescapable cloud of stench, making it nearly impossible to catch a fresh breath. His mind insisted on torturing him with thoughts of fat leeches and venomous serpents. It didn’t matter that there were no dangerous water snakes in Wisconsin. In his stubborn mind, even alligators and crocodiles, vicious snapping turtles and anacondas as large as freight trains prowled these waters.

  After all, he’d been fairly sure there were no nasty-tempered apes in Wisconsin, either, until a short while ago. His cell phone confirmed that he wasn’t entirely still in the world he knew. Who could possibly say what kinds of things might call these strange waters home? With every step he expected something mean and ravenous to spring up from the mire and sink vicious teeth into his flesh, or simply drag him screaming down into the murky depths, never to be found.

  In his dream, he’d waded through these very same waters and recalled seeing nothing stirring beneath the surface. But he also did not yet recall exiting the marsh, so there was still time to remember something terrifying. It would probably return to him only when it was too late. And even if the dream never revealed a monstrous danger lurking in the bog, it did not necessarily mean that it wasn’t there. After all, the dream did not warn him of the toothy ape or the coyote-deer. And for all he knew, the foggy man may have left him another surprise hidden somewhere in the mud.

  But step-after-step, he found nothing waiting to rend his flesh and crush his bones.

  After another half-hour of sloshing through the reeking muck, a memory did return, however. In his dream, he saw a strange shape moving purposefully through the water, too large to be any known snake or turtle.

  The memory now returned to him, Eric scanned the area for the same shape, but it was nowhere to be seen.

  He pushed on, eyes wide open.

  The trees drew closer together as he walked, the canopy above him denser, mottling the sunlight upon the surface of the foul water. More and more frequently, his feet struck the roots, threatening to trip him and send him sprawling into the muck, but somehow he managed to keep his footing.

  His legs ached. Bugs swarmed around him. Mosquitoes threatened to bleed him dry. The humidity was stifling. And still he could see no end to this miserable marsh.

  The creature in his dream wandered off and did not return.

  How was it, he wondered, that a scary swamp would prove to be free of monsters determined to devour him (with the notable exception of the damned mosquitoes) while a farmhouse and a nudist resort nearly killed him?

  Finally, he came to an area where the earth rose above the surface of the water in places, allowing him to walk on dry land for brief periods of time. It was on one of these small islets that he stopped and sat with his back against a tree, resting his weary legs.

  He checked his cell phone, confirmed that there was still no signal, and then snapped a picture of his surroundings to add to his scrapbook of crazy things he saw and did on his twisted wonderland adventure.

  It was odd, now, to think that he started this insanity in a cornfield.

  Cursing, he slapped at another mosquito and then glanced up in time to see an enormous shadow pass overhead.

  Leaping to his feet, he looked up to see what appeared to be a massive black bird soaring past above the trees and out toward the lake from which he’d come.

  He could see very little detail through the branches, and might have mistaken it for a small and extremely low-flying plane if it wasn’t utterly silent.

  Not caring to be carried off like a field mouse, and not daring to assume that it would do no such thing should it see him, he stepped out into the water and continued on his way, his eyes drifting repeatedly to the sky as he went.

  He didn’t recall seeing a giant bird in his dream, which was weird, now that he was thinking about it, since the bird theme was the only part of the dream he could even remotely remember until he found the barn at the far end of Annette’s field.

  The trees grew denser still, crowding together until he had to struggle over their tangled roots and squeeze between their fat trunks.

  Then, just as abruptly as he’d run the boat aground and found himself within the marsh, he stumbled out from between the trees and found himself once again in a cornfield.

  “The hell?” he muttered, looking back at the crowded trees behind him. From here, he could see no sign that any marsh existed, only a dense thicket of trees, all of which were native Wisconsin pines and oaks and maples. He couldn’t seem to remember when the swamp cypresses ended, but he must have been pushing his way through a genuine Wisconsin forest for at least the past few minutes.

  Even the humidity had vanished. Although the air remained hot, it was a much dryer and more bearable heat.

  In his dream, he’d had the exact same experience. Therefore, he was confident that he was still where he was supposed to be. And checking his phone, he found that he had his signal back.

  He also had thirteen missed calls and a text message that read, WHERE ARE YOU?

  He should call Karen. She was clearly worried. But he was sure that if he just waited a few minutes, she would call him. And, as it turned out, he had barely started pushing his way through the corn when it began to vibrate impatiently in his pocket.

  “What happened to you?”

  “Sorry. I was off-world for a while there.”

  “You’ve been waiting your whole life to be able to say something like that, haven’t you?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “I couldn’t find anything about an Isaac Altrusk. But I didn’t have time to search too hard.”

  Eric wasn’t sure what good it would do anyway. The Altrusk house was well behind him now. He doubted he’d ever see it again. And poor Isabelle…

  “How’s the cake?” he asked, not caring to dwell on the poor girl he’d been forced to leave behind.

  “Coming along.”

  “Get the pies done?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got cookies in the oven now.”

  “I should leave you alone more often.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. So where are you now?”

  “Back in a cornfield.”

  “Oh. Beats a leaky boat.”

  “It does.”

  “So you got across the lake okay?”

  “Lake turned into a swamp. Had to hoof it through the bog.”

  “Yuck. Better you than me.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t have made it.”

  “Oh you think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. It ruined my shoes.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I wouldn’t’ve made it.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Piss off any more monkeys?”

  “Not yet. Saw a big bird though. Huge. Like a plane.”

  “Scary.”

  “It was.”

  “Well I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “So am I.”

  “Paul called me, said you told him I could tell him what was up.”

  “I did.”

  “He was freaking out about your monkey picture.”

  Eric smiled. “That got his attention.”

  “Yes, it most certainly did.”

  “So you told him my story?”

&n
bsp; “Uh huh. Sent him those other pictures, too.”

  “Good. He won’t think I’m crazy anymore.”

  “No. I’m pretty sure he believes you now.”

  “Good. Did he find the PT Cruiser?”

  “Yeah. Him and Kevin were parked by it when he called. They should be on their way back with it now.”

  “Excellent.”

  Eric stepped out of the corn and found himself standing on another dirt road, nearly identical to the one where this strange adventure first began. He almost expected he had come full circle, that soon he would find himself back at either the barn or Annette’s backyard gate.

  “So any idea where you’re going now?” asked Karen.

  “Nope. Stupid dream’s still only coming back to me as things happen. But I found a road through the corn, so at least I’m not walking completely blind.”

  In his dream, he’d turned right, so he started walking in that direction. Hopefully, he wouldn’t walk five miles only to recall that, in his dream, he’d found a dead end and had to turn back.

  “I’m going to hang up and see where this road goes.”

  “Okay. Call me soon.”

  He didn’t know why she continued to tell him that. She knew damn well it would be her who called him. It always was.

  Eric stuffed the phone back into his pocket and continued walking. A few hundred yards ahead, the corn on his left gave way to pasture and a barbwire fence separated him from a few dozen cows.

  He was studying the animals for any sign that they may turn around and bare huge sets of angry gorilla teeth at him or some other terrifying thing, but they appeared to be nothing more than ordinary cows.

  His phone rang again.

  Grumbling, he answered it. It was Paul.

  “What’s going on? You still stuck in that boat?”

  “No, I ran out of lake, had to get out and wade through a swamp. Now I think I’m back in Wisconsin. I see cows.”

  “Sounds like Wisconsin.”

  “Have any trouble finding the Cruiser?”

  “Nope. It was right where you said it was. Safe and sound.”

  “Good. Where are you now?”

  “Kevin’s on his way back to your house with the Cruiser. I stuck around to do a little snooping.”

  Eric stopped walking. “You’re doing what?”