The Nightmare Frontier

by Stephen Mark Rainey

  Copeland felt the heavy pulse in the earth quickening like a panicked heartbeat. The tips of the groping arms appeared to clutch the very fabric of the sky and, with a sharp, jerking motion, tore it open, releasing from the crevasses black, hazy beams, like negative images of the sun’s rays. These fell deliberately upon the tower’s onyx surfaces, and everywhere they struck, gray smoke began to ooze from the stone. Simultaneously, the subterranean throbbing became a maddened pounding, and the ethereal chorale rose in volume and fervor.

  Debra’s hand closed on his arm. “Something’s coming,” she said, and he turned to gaze after her pointing hand.

  From the darkness beneath the metallic trees at the edge of the nearby field, a pinpoint of light appeared, which he took to be the eye of a Lumera. But as it began to draw steadily nearer, he realized it was something else: a small, luminous globe, drifting through the darkness, like yet unlike the glowing, airborne creatures. This one had a pale, jade green hue and was surrounded by smaller, sparkling satellites, which orbited it at dazzling speed. The thing made a beeline straight for them, and Copeland realized then that there could be no escape. No place to run, no weapons to defend themselves. He heard Debra suck in a frightened breath, and his feet automatically began to carry him backward. As the thing drew nearer, it suddenly ballooned to massive size—easily larger than the both of them—and swiftly closed over and around their bodies.

  He felt Debra’s hand fiercely gripping his. Then a wave of pure ice mercilessly pummeled his face, stealing his breath, his eyesight, his hearing. With his final exhalation, all sensation took its leave, and he knew his body was dissolving in the jade green sea. Strangely, along with his senses, fear also left. He knew what it felt like to die.

  For a brief few moments, he thought he knew the ultimate peace.

  Chapter 22

  It seemed only an instant later that sight, sound, smell, and touch returned to him.

  Except he could see and hear nothing. The world had gone dark and silent. But it was the world of the living, that much he felt certain. The air held an odd mélange of scents: the cool tang of mildew, the harsh bite of mothballs, and the sweet, distinctive touch of cedar.

  He could feel Debra’s hand still clamped in his.

  “Where the hell are we?” she whispered. “How did we get here?”

  As his eyes began to adjust, he found the darkness not quite complete. A few tiny slivers of violet dawn cut through the darkness an indeterminate distance ahead—a window, covered or painted over, he thought. He detected other shapes nearby: stacked boxes and crates, a broken wooden chair, an angled silhouette that resembled a teetering piano.

  “Wait,” came Debra’s voice. “I know where we are. It’s the attic of the church. We’re in the church!”

  Copeland scanned their dim surroundings and found no sign of the luminous globe, which by all appearances had delivered them here. For a few seconds, he almost dared to believe he had just roused from a vivid, terrible nightmare. Then a faint, slow, shuffling noise crept from a distant corner, followed a soft intake of breath—human, he thought…he hoped. Suddenly, a light flared in the room—an electric, blue-green miniature sun, again familiar, yet different from the Zuso Xhan Mat with which Amos Barrow had changed the world.

  Something moved near the blocked window, and the glowing gem rose higher into the air. Its gently pulsing glow revealed a crooked figure, which began shambling slowly toward them, bearing the supernal lamp before him in clasped hands.

  “Oh, my God,” Debra whispered. “Dad. Dad!”

  She dashed forward and nearly tackled the older man, who protectively cradled the stone as if it were a precious piece of sculpted glass. His face looked haggard, his eyes dim and exhausted, but he offered his daughter a faint smile as her arms fiercely encircled his body.

  “Easy,” he said, his voice weak and hoarse. “First things first. We’ve got to stop what’s happening.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Debra whispered, tears streaming from her eyes.

  “No. I was…protected,” he said, casting his gaze at the glowing stone. To her sudden gape of disbelief, he nodded reassuringly. “I had to keep this a secret from the Barrows at all costs. I didn’t dare reveal it, even to you.”

  “Another one?” Copeland asked dubiously, eyeing the gem warily. “Is…that…what brought us here?”

  “Yes. I can’t explain the details now. But suffice it to say it’s how I’ve come to know about the things we’re dealing with.” Martin leaned closer to look at his face. “Good God, Russ. The Barrows do that to you?”

  “I’ll be all right. I shouldn’t care to shave right away.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged off the older man’s concern. “Tell me. The way we were brought here. That’s how the Barrows have been able to go from place to place after the land changed. Isn’t it?”

  “More or less. Amos is far more expert at manipulating these…openings. With you, I must admit, I was…fortunate.”

  Copeland blew a long breath. “I’d like to say that’s a relief.”

  “Dad, what is that in the sky—the thing the Lumeras are attacking?”

  “That,” he said with slow deliberation, “is the product of a new Dream Frontier.”

  Her jaw dropped again in consternation, but he held up a placating hand.

  “There was only one way to counter what Amos Barrow has done, and that was to open a second doorway. Two such spheres cannot exist in the same space.”

  “My God, Dad. How many of those jewels are there?”

  “Whether there are others…I have no idea.” His ragged voice was barely audible. “It took me years to find this one. It was in Myanmar—Burma—a few hundred miles from where we found the first.”

  “Now I know what Amos was trying to get me to tell him,” Copeland said.

  “Which is why I couldn’t possibly reveal it to either of you. He would have gotten it out of you, Russ. Or Debra.”

  “Have you been here since last night?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I needed someplace where I could fully attune myself to this thing. Figured it was relatively safe here. Had a close call yesterday afternoon, though. When the stone became active, Levi came to investigate. Bastard killed Loretta Gleasman. Ran her down with his truck, just before I came to see you. God, I wanted to tell you everything then…but I just couldn’t.”

  “Yesterday afternoon.” Debra stared into space for a moment. “That’s when that music first started, right?”

  “Yeah. It comes from the new frontier.”

  “You activated this thing yourself, right?” Copeland asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If what you told us before was true, don’t you have to be asleep and dreaming to control it?”

  The older man did not answer right away. Finally, he said, “Yes. It functions more or less like the other.”

  “So, right now it’s inactive. But eventually, this one will anchor itself here, just like the other. Am I understanding right?”

  “Essentially.”

  “Then…even if this thing destroys the Lumeras, won’t it be just as dangerous?”

  “Russ, I had no choice. If I hadn’t done this…” Martin’s chiseled granite face looked as if it might shatter. “At least I’ve bought us some time.”

  Debra stared at him in shock. “At what cost, Dad?”

  Rather than face the rising fire in his daughter’s eyes, he turned his attention back to Copeland. “You were inside the Barrows’ house, I take it?”

  “We barely got out,” he said. “There’s at least one Lumera left in there, and God knows what else. But Amos’s the only one of them left alive.”

  Martin held up the glowing stone and gazed into it with haunted eyes. “This has to be taken there. If I’m right, when the two active gems are put together, they will cancel each other out. But it’s got to be done before the new frontier completely destroys the first. Else you’re right—we’ll be back
where we started.”

  “But if you have to be dreaming to keep the doorway open…one of us will have to carry the thing. Am I right?”

  Martin looked long and hard at him. Then he took Copeland by the shoulder and pulled him away from Debra. Softly, he said, “You’re partially right. Once the gem becomes active, it maintains a connection between me and the other side, whether I’m asleep or not. Right now, while I’m awake, it’s semi-dormant. Over time, it will start functioning independently. But until then, yes…for it to be fully active, I’ve got to be in dream sleep.”

  “I see.”

  Another long silence. Then: “Russ, listen to me. I cannot ask my daughter to undertake this. So I’m going to ask you. Will you bear this for me?”

  His eyes searched Martin’s weary, earnest face, then turned to the shining gemstone. Up close, it seemed to burn with a sinister, demonic light, as if its crystalline walls encased something alive and violent, desperately seeking a means to escape. The idea of touching the thing nauseated him. For a moment, hot resentment flooded his veins. He had survived thus far only by the grace of God. His body hurt like hell, and it urgently required rest and rejuvenation. How could anyone expect him to put his life on the line again—this time intentionally?

  But Martin was right; no father could ask such a thing of his daughter. And neither would Copeland allow her to walk willingly into what amounted to certain death. If he denied Martin’s request, anyone left alive in Silver Ridge—the three of them included—stood to face yet greater horror.

  Finally, banishing any thought of the consequences from his mind, he said, “All right. Yeah.”

  “I can’t lie to you, Russ. I don’t know what your chances are. They can’t be good. The forces you’ll be exposed to—they’re unimaginable. But you must believe me. This is truly our last, only hope.”

  He swallowed hard, the first twinges of dread beginning deep in his stomach. “I understand.”

  Martin stared thoughtfully at him. In a barely audible voice, he said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve sent a man to his death. I never thought I’d have to do it again.”

  “You haven’t issued an order.”

  “It amounts to the same thing.” He glanced at Debra and then looked deeply into Copeland’s eyes. He whispered, “Russ, don’t tell her this, but…there will be consequences to me, as well. Because of my connection with this thing, I expect…” He swallowed hard. “No…I know…that I won’t survive this.”

  Copeland’s jaw clenched. He had no words, either for the major or for himself.

  Debra’s voice drifted to them. “Please, just stop it. I know what you intend to do.”

  Martin turned to her. “I’m sorry, Debra. What we’re attempting is absolutely necessary. You must understand that.”

  “I do understand. That’s why I’m going with Russ.”

  “Debra…”

  “If he doesn’t make it to the end, someone will have to finish the job.”

  For once, Martin appeared defeated, unable to summon the energy or the will to oppose his daughter. “If you do,” he said, “at the end of the day, in all likelihood, all three of us will be dead.”

  Copeland gazed at Debra, suddenly remembering the thrill of her touch, how fervently they had made love. She smiled sadly at him; he made himself turn away.

  Martin then gave them both long, searching looks. “Tell me, though. When you were in there, at the Barrows, you didn’t learn anything about Elise, did you?”

  Debra’s eyes glimmered. “Levi told me if I cooperated with him, Mom wouldn’t be harmed.” After a long pause, she added, “But he was lying. I know it.”

  The older man lowered his head. “Yes. If she were alive, I would know. I’d know it.”

  Empathetic grief tugged at Copeland’s heart as Debra’s shoulders slumped. “So would I,” she whispered. “And I don’t. I don’t know it.”

  As the silence between them grew longer. Martin nodded to himself, as if coming to grips with his own decision. “It’s time we did this. This new one…it moves faster than the Lumeras did. It will anchor itself quickly.”

  “What do we do? How do we begin?” Debra asked.

  “First, I’ll have to go to sleep. It won’t take long; once that thing has hold of you, it keeps pulling you back.” He smiled sardonically. “Then I’ll dream a portal for you, like the one that brought you here. Step through it. I know it’s disconcerting, but it won’t harm you. You’ll be back at the point where you left. Then—assuming Amos is still there—you’ll have to make your way inside the house. Get as close to the Zuso Xhan Mat as you can. I don’t know at what point, but as the stones come into proximity, there will be a…reaction.”

  “What kind of reaction?” Copeland asked.

  “At first, just pressure. You know what it’s like to try to push the like-charged poles of two magnets together? Not unlike that. Beyond that, though, I can’t say. I can only hope the forces destroy each other. They’ve got to.”

  “Anything else?”

  Martin reached behind him and produced a pistol—an Army-issue Beretta M9—from his belt. He handed it to Copeland. “You may need this to use this against Amos. You can’t afford to let him stand in your way. Beyond that, I don’t know that it’ll do you any good.”

  He tucked the gun in his waistband. “Thanks. Well, I guess I’d better get started before I change my mind.”

  “We,” Debra corrected him. “You mean we had better get started.”

  He gave her a long, wistful look and sighed resignedly. “We.”

  Taking a deep breath, Martin lifted the softly pulsing gemstone and placed it in Copeland’s waiting, trembling hand.

  The thing felt frigid, and the throbbing light inside it seemed to change its rhythm. Its surface felt slick, as if coated with oil, and he had to grasp it firmly to prevent it slipping from his fingers. With a scowl of distaste, he slipped the stone into his pocket.

  “I gather you don’t need to keep this close to you when you’re asleep?”

  “Now that I’m attuned to it, I could go to China and it wouldn’t make any difference.”

  “China doesn’t sound so bad right now.”

  Martin chuckled wryly. Then he turned, took his daughter in his arms, and held her as if he did not intend to let her go. Finally, he whispered something in her ear and released her, his eyes glistening with tears. He appeared so frail and fatigued that Copeland feared he might collapse before he even lay down to dream. But with heartfelt sincerity, he clasped Copeland’s hand and said, “Something tells me that, at the end of it all, we won’t even get to see what we’ve wrought. But good luck, Russ. This is for those we’ve lost.”

  “For those we’ve lost,” he said, squeezing the other’s hand.

  Martin then turned and shuffled back toward the corner by the painted window. “I’ve got a cot back here. It’ll only take a minute or so for me to start dreaming. I can feel that thing’s hold on me as we speak.”

  Debra pressed close to Copeland, watching her father’s retreating figure. When he rounded a corner and disappeared in the darkness, a single, soft sob escaped her lips.

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he said. “I know I can’t talk you out of this. So I might as well tell you I’m glad you’re with me. I don’t know how I could do this alone.”

  She offered him a weak smile. “Scared, are you?”

  “A bit.”

  “Liar.”

  “A lot.”

  “I thought so. You know, though…you’ve done okay in my book. You went through your own hell, but you still managed to come for me.”

  He squeezed her warmly. “I couldn’t bear the idea of losing you. Not after what we went through together.”

  The look she gave him thrilled him so deeply that, for a few blissful moments, he completely forgot his terror. “You know, back at the cabin—just before the Lumeras attacked—I told you I loved you. You didn’t hear me. But looking back, I think you knew
it somehow.”

  She smiled. “I knew it before then.”

  “Like when?”

  “Like the night you got here and watched me through your window.”

  His jaw went slack and he stared disbelievingly at her. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  A few feet away from them, a jade-green globe surrounded by whirling, orbiting sparkles winked into existence and hovered a yard or so above the floor. Slowly, it began to drift toward them, gradually expanding like an inflating balloon, soon becoming large enough to swallow them both. From it, they could hear the strains of a dark, distant chorale…ominous, yet alluring.

  As the thing began to close over them and Copeland prepared himself for the onslaught of unknown, frigid forces, Debra embraced him and fiercely pressed her lips to his. He lost himself in her kiss, so that when the cold hit him with the force of a tsunami, he neither felt it nor cared about where it might carry his body.

  The last thing he heard was Debra’s voice whispering, “I love you too.”

  Chapter 23

  The second exit from the jade abyss affected Copeland more drastically than the first; this time, the chill didn’t leave his bones for a full minute, and his sparse reserve of energy seemed loath to return. But having emerged right in the middle of his worst nightmare, he quickly summoned the strength to scramble to the shelter of a stand of ordinary-looking pine trees at the edge of the Barrow property, pulling Debra with him. They fell behind a cluster of thick boles on the edge of a small hillock, which offered them a clear view of the Barrow house, a hundred or so yards away. He wasn’t sure he possessed the will to cross that open space, though, for doing so would expose him to eyes of the multitudes of luminous things that sailed ceaselessly across the purple sky, or the titanic black globe, which stood miles and miles above the earth on its dozens of arched, buttress-like legs.