Hedge Lake

by Brian Harmon

  He took a few steps forward. There was nothing to see. In the movies, there would be fantastic special effects illustrating how the world was being ripped apart by the colossal forces at work in this place. A great, glowing rift would be floating before him, spouting lightning and fire. But in the real world, these things were invisible, silent and unassuming. A person could walk right into one without ever seeing it. Except Eric knew right where it was. He could sense it somehow. There were several of them. The nearest one was right in front of him.

  Ned had hypothesized that there would be more than one. It only made sense. How else could there be both hellhounds and giant fish? On the other side, some of these portals obviously opened on land and others beneath the water.

  And for that matter… “These aren’t the portals,” he realized.

  Fettarsetter looked impressed. “No. These are only the roots. The mouths of the portals open underwater, near the surface of the triangle.”

  Like funnels, Eric realized. This was the narrow end, where they actually crossed from this world into the next. He could be sucked through here just as easily as he could at the surface, of course, but up higher was where the alien creatures entering from the other side were deposited. It was why so many dead things washed ashore. The vast majority of the ones who survived the trip drowned before ever leaving the lake. If they’d exited the portals down here, they would’ve remained here, at the bottom of the triangle, never to be seen. And the ground at his feet would be littered with their bones.

  The rain poured down around him, heavy and cold. Eric stared at the place where he knew the portal waited. In the beam of his flashlight, there was nothing. But when he looked closer, he could almost see where the rain sometimes didn’t quite make it all the way to the ground.

  “Time’s ticking,” said Fettarsetter.

  Eric felt panic rising up from inside him. What did he do? How did he make a titanic worm stop chewing on the fabric of the universe? They didn’t teach that sort of thing in graduate school.

  He closed his eyes and tried to remember everything that had happened to him since he arrived that day. The answer had to be there. It was always somewhere in the details. Isabelle told him the place was saturated with a tremendous amount of spiritual energy. That was because Fettarsetter (who was apparently some kind of immortal monster, by the way) had spent decades, maybe even centuries, cultivating misery and death to grow the triangle and encourage the worm. Mrs. Fulrick informed him of her dream in which he found the secret path and followed it to the bottom of the lake to face the evil that waited there, the “evil” being the worm that was the basis for all of Fettarsetter’s evil plans. Cordelia gave him Bog’s/Fettarsetter’s compass, which he wouldn’t have found without some kind of divine help, because that was precisely Fettarsetter’s plan all along. It was the key to proving his theory about the universe. Then there was Ned, who theorized the existence of the portals and their role in the appearance of the strange creatures that had been sited here for ages. Finally, there was Specter Ten and Owen, who always believed in all of it and that it was all connected…

  “The idiot was right all along…” he muttered.

  Fettarsetter cocked his head. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  There was a strange sensation, not unlike an earthquake, but not at all physical, as if his mind had just trembled.

  “You’d better think faster.”

  Eric forced himself to concentrate. What was he missing? What was he supposed to do?

  A voice whispered in his ear. He thought it was a familiar voice, but he couldn’t quite place it. A spirit, no doubt. It said only two words: “The orbs…”

  Eric realized that he was already holding one of the orbs in his hand. He’d reached for it without thinking, as if he’d needed something soothing to touch.

  Fettarsetter didn’t seem to hear the voice. The message had only been for him.

  He removed one of the orbs and looked at it. Mrs. Fulrick told him the orbs were for dispelling negative energy and encouraging positive spirits. And Fettarsetter told him that something had happened to disrupt the flow of spiritual energy in and around the lake.

  Could there be a connection between these two things?

  “Did you figure it out, yet?” asked Fettarsetter.

  Eric didn’t look back. He didn’t want this man reading his expression. “Not yet,” he lied.

  “I see. Well, I hate to be a bother, but I did tell you that part about doing everything in my power to ensure the end of the world. You remember that, right?”

  Eric turned and faced him. The hellhound was standing between them now, its teeth bared. On his left was the ostrich monster. On his right, the shallows walker. They were emerging from the mist, approaching him. All of them Fettarsetter’s pets.

  “It’s nothing personal. But you have to respect the integrity of the experiment. If I don’t do everything in my power to stop you, then I won’t have proved anything. You understand.”

  “Oh sure,” said Eric, taking a step back. He didn’t have much room. The portal was right behind him.

  “I’ve put it off too long as it is, but I couldn’t help myself. I was intrigued. You just kept escaping where so many others have failed. I was rooting for you.”

  “Very kind of you.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” said Fettarsetter as a familiar mass of black, hairy legs emerged from the mist behind him. This was as close as Eric had seen the creature, and now he realized that several of the beast’s legs had been broken off. Somehow, this managed to give the thing an even more terrifying appearance. “And I apologize in advance for the mess.”

  Eric eyed the creatures. This was bad. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this one. “Yeah. Well…at least you couldn’t call the fish, too…” It was always good to try to keep some small amount of optimism, he believed.

  “Ah, yes. Tiny.”

  “Tiny?” said Eric. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I found it amusing. Tiny was one of my favorite finds. He was the reason I chose the name Jonah when I came back here fifteen years ago.”

  “Hilarious,” said Eric, eyeing the strange pack of creatures that were gathering around him. “You’re a wacky guy, Jonah.”

  Fettarsetter smiled that creepy smile and said nothing.

  The monsters drew closer. Eric risked another step back. Was it the wind, or was something tugging at the back of his poncho?

  He seemed to have exactly two choices: Get mauled and eaten by four vicious monsters from another world, or throw himself into a portal and hope to survive the horrendous journey long enough to die crippled, blinded and choking on toxic air and poisonous water.

  And he thought it sucked when Karen asked him to help her pick out a dress.

  The hellhound snarled. The shallows walker opened its toothy jaws and let out a long, purring noise that was somehow even worse than a growl. The ostrich-stein hissed. Hellish smoke boiled from each of their mouths. The fourth thing…whatever the holy hell that thing was…made no sound at all. It simply extended those gruesome, spider-like legs and lifted its long, serpent-like body up into the air, where that strange, burning light blossomed through the mist.

  Back at Fettarsetter’s house, he’d thought that the thing up in the trees was another creature, but it was the same one. Contrastingly, he was both intrigued and terrified to know what the other end of this creature looked like.

  “What about your theory?” he asked, hoping to put off his doom another few seconds.

  Fettarsetter looked thrilled. “Oh, I still believe in it,” he assured him. “I can’t wait to see how the universe plans to get you out of this. Personally, I can’t see that you have a single option at your disposal.”

  He couldn’t argue. He wasn’t sure there was a way out this time. It seemed pretty bleak.

  “I expect it’ll take a miracle.”

  Above him, that strange, burning light descend
ed. A horrible shape began to form out of the darkness, a great mass of swaying limbs unfolding from around the flame.

  Then that voice whispered into his ear again. “The orbs! Hurry!” And with a terrible screech, a shadowy shape leapt from the darkness and onto Fettarsetter’s back, sinking long, sharp claws through his expensive raincoat and suit and into his flesh. The man let out a startled yell and whirled around.

  It was Spooky, his long tail flicking wildly.

  When Fettarsetter tried to reach over his shoulder and seize his small assailant, he was rewarded with a hard bite to his finger. Until now, this man had displayed an unwavering cockiness, but now he let out a furious howl.

  All four creatures stopped. They seemed to forget what they were doing. The hellhound shook itself. The lizard man dropped to all fours. The thing that wasn’t an ostrich took a step backward and seemed to look around with its one, scarred eye. The shape above him receded and the hairy mass of legs skittered backward into the mist again.

  What happened next wasn’t pretty.

  The shallows walker fled into the mist, but the hellhound and the ostrich creature turned on their master in a single, bloody instant, both of them tearing into him with their vicious teeth.

  Fettarsetter howled in pain and rage as he was knocked to the ground and set upon by his own menagerie of horrors.

  His job done, Spooky leapt free of the fray, ran a safe, but arrogantly short distance, and then simply sat and began primping himself.

  Then that fiery glow appeared in the sky again. An awful thing came down from above, a mass of limbs that were some kind of strange combination of insect legs and tentacles. At the center of this insane configuration was a large, thorny beak that gaped open, revealing the fiery glow inside, not unlike the blaze in the hellhound’s throat.

  It seized Fettarsetter and lifted him up into the air, snatching him away from the other two.

  This man claimed to have been alive for an unnatural amount of time. He could’ve been lying. Or he could’ve been insane. But Eric didn’t think so. His awful howling went on and on, long after any ordinary man’s screams should’ve been strangled into silence.

  Then his body fell, a mangled, bloody thing, and landed with a sickening thump on the hard ground, where the hellhound and the ostrich-stein took over once again.

  And still Fettarsetter screamed.

  Eric didn’t want to turn his back on the monsters, but neither did he dare linger any longer at the bottom of this lake. He turned around, removed the orbs from around his neck and looked at them. After a moment’s consideration, he saved one and then tossed the rest at the nearest portal.

  Almost as soon as they left his hand, they vanished into thin air. At the same instant, another of those strange shivers raced through the universe, this one the strongest yet. The wind picked up. A sound that might’ve been the rumble of thunder rolled across the lake bed.

  Then, just as quickly, it became calm again.

  Suddenly, something seemed different. The weight of this place felt lighter somehow. That looming presence was still there, but it didn’t seem quite so imminent now. The rain poured on, but somehow he knew it was over. For whatever reason, sending those orbs to the other side did something that made the worm stop.

  But Eric stood there anyway, holding his breath, unable to believe that it was all so easy.

  The screams of his enemy finally died away and Eric turned hesitantly to survey the horror.

  The ostrich-thing turned and wandered off. The thing with all the legs was already gone, scurried away into the mist. The hellhound, on the other hand, turned and looked at Eric. It seemed to regard him for a moment, as if considering whether he needed to be dealt with in a similar fashion. But then it lowered its head, took a single step toward him, and collapsed onto the ground.

  The hellfire in its eyes and throat faded. It had finally been allowed to die.

  He didn’t plan to look very closely at what became of Fettarsetter. A single glance told him that he was no longer a threat. His body had been ravaged. One of his arms had been tossed clear of the rest of his remains. The suit was definitely ruined.

  Jeremiah Bog wouldn’t be hurting anyone again.

  But as he turned away, he heard a weak chuckle. He looked back again, his breath caught in his throat.

  Although missing half of his face, Fettarsetter still wore that creepy smirk.

  “I thought that might be how it’d happen,” he said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, which was far more than he should’ve been able to manage since Eric didn’t think the man’s vocal cords were still connected to his lungs. “Didn’t think it’d be the cat, though…”

  Eric opened his mouth, but then he closed it again. He couldn’t find any words. He’d never been so horrified by any sight in his entire life…and that was saying something.

  “I was right…” he bragged. “My theory… God forces… Protecting… Even from people like me…”

  “Congratulations?” offered Eric.

  “They’re out there… Watching…”

  “That’s good, right? I mean, creepy. But good.”

  Fettarsetter chuckled again. “It is good… And next… Next time… I’ll find them.”

  “Right,” said Eric, surveying the man’s gruesome condition. “Good luck with that.”

  There was another of those strange shivers. He turned and looked back toward the portals. Something was happening. It wasn’t the worm. Somehow he was sure of that. That great, looming presence was still there, but it seemed more distant.

  That strangely familiar voice whispered to him again, “Get out of there, Eric!”

  He didn’t hesitate. He turned and ran back the way he’d come.

  He looked back only once as he fled, just long enough to yell, “And I’m keeping the watch!”

  Chapter Forty

  Something was dreadfully wrong. He couldn’t see it, but he could sense it. Something about the triangle, something beneath the scope of his human senses.

  He located the part of the bluff that had fallen away and climbed over the rain-slicked drop-off the same way he came down. Beyond this point, however, he realized that he didn’t know the way back. The compass would show him, of course, but that would take time. And he had a terrible feeling deep in his gut that time was something he simply didn’t have.

  He needed to get back to the surface fast.

  Then he glimpsed a familiar shape darting across the beam of his flashlight, running toward the forest ahead of him.

  Spooky.

  He tried to keep up.

  His cell phone rang. He fumbled it out of his pocket and answered it.

  “Get out of there!” cried Isabelle.

  “I’m trying!”

  “That place is falling apart! I don’t know what you did down there, but the spiritual energy is fading really fast. It’s like you unclogged a drain or something.”

  Eric couldn’t process this just now, so he didn’t even bother responding. He’d think about it later, if he survived.

  “If you don’t find your way out of there really fast, you could be trapped forever!”

  That, he could process. And he didn’t care one bit for the idea of being stuck in this forest for even another minute. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “Spooky’ll lead me out. Won’t you, boy?”

  The cat came to an abrupt stop ahead of him and turned his head to one side and then the other. He turned around, darting in a little circle as if looking for something. His ears were laid back. His tail was puffed out as if in alarm. In other words, he looked exactly like Eric felt.

  “Oh, that can’t be good,” he said as he followed the cat’s movements with the flashlight.

  Spooky let out a loud cry and then darted to the left. Eric followed him, circling around a low bluff and then dodging one of those strange, red trees.

  Feeling the need to distract himself, he said, “So are you feeling better, then?”

  “I am,�
� she replied. “As soon as you did whatever it was you did, it eased up. It’s still hurting my head, but it’s getting better by the second.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m not so sure it is.”

  “No?”

  “I think the spiritual energy was the only thing holding the layers of the triangle apart. As gross as it sounds, it was kind of like puss in a blister. Now that it’s draining, the whole thing’s collapsing down around you.”

  “You win some, you lose some, I guess,” he panted.

  “No reckless optimism, please.”

  “If you say so.”

  Spooky seemed to have the path now. He was running ahead of him, bounding along the forest floor.

  Eric struggled to keep up. More than once, he lost sight of him in the darkness, but somehow he managed to keep up.

  Around them, the strangling trees grew denser, more difficult to avoid.

  Eric didn’t remember them growing this close together on the way in. This was somewhere new. He switched the phone to the same hand he held the flashlight with and dug the watch out of his pocket. The hands were slowing down. They were definitely moving up. But they were still nowhere near the surface.

  He lifted the phone back to his ear and Isabelle asked, “What did you do, anyway? The energy was so intense down there, I could barely hear you.”

  “I just threw those orbs Mrs. Fulrick gave me into the portal.”

  “That’s all?”

  “That’s all.”

  Spooky skidded to a halt again. This time, however, he immediately twirled around, backtracked a few feet and then took off in a different direction.

  Eric’s heart was pounding. He didn’t like when the cat did that. He tried to tell himself that he had no way of knowing what might be going through a cat’s mind, what might motivate it to do the things it did, but he was a very imaginative person and he could see precisely what was happening. The doors were closing. The skins were knitting themselves back together. The wound was healing itself.

  The strangling trees began to thin again. The closer-to-normal, red-tinged trees became more numerous. The underbrush was beginning to grow back.