Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1) (3 page)

Tori and I are at Jordan’s parents’ house. Teenagers and college students are everywhere. Some are talking and laughing; others dance to the booming music. Jordan finds us in the entryway.

“There ya are, babe!” He shoves a cup filled to the brim in each of our hands, sloshing beer all over.

“Ugh, Jordan! Can’t you be more careful!” Tori turns to me, “I’ve got to wash this out of my shirt. Come with me to the bathroom to cleanup.” She pulls me toward the staircase.

I’ve been here before, so I know there’s a closer bathroom than the one upstairs.

“Wait. Let’s use this one. It’s right here.” I start to head to the door at the back of the hall and off the side of the kitchen. Tori jerks me back the other direction, spilling more beer.

“No, the only bathroom is upstairs. Let’s go!”

Her insistence confuses me. “Tori, I’ve been here before, and I know there’s a bathroom right down there. I can see the door.” I point right at it. She follows my gaze then shakes her head. Her grip on my arm gets tighter and she looks angry.

“I think I should know where the bathroom is, Addy. It’s my boyfriend’s house after all.” She starts dragging me toward the stairs.

My stomach rolls uneasily. For some reason Tori doesn’t want me to go into that bathroom. Why? Is there something in there she doesn’t want me to see? All I know is that the farther away she pulls me, the more desperate I am to get through that door. It’s as if something inside is calling to me.

“I don’t want to go upstairs. I want to go in there!” I’m yelling at her now because the music keeps getting louder, making it harder for me to be heard. I don’t know what’s going on with Tori, but I know I have to get to that door. I think my life depends on it. I steel myself and prepare to jerk away from Tori’s grasp, but she must have known my thoughts because she whips her head around to face me.

Her face is distorted and she growls at me viciously, reminding me of a pack of wolves fighting over a kill. She digs her nails into my flesh until I see blood running down my arm and dripping off my elbow onto the white tile floor. Her eyes glow a dull, rusty red, and her face fluctuates between the distorted mask it’s become and something veiled in shadows. I can’t see through the shadows, but somehow I know that underneath them is a face so horrific and evil that seeing it would drive me mad.

All the while the music is getting louder and the room is getting darker and everything seems to be spinning. I look around at the people standing nearby, hoping someone will help me, and I’m horrified. The party guests are faceless, but they watch us with eyeless malevolence. I can sense them laughing; some are pointing. They are gleeful spectators to this frightening ordeal, mocking me, feeding off my terror. I will receive no aid from anyone here. I have never felt so helpless and alone.

“Stay away from that door!” the thing that used to be Tori roars at me. Reflexively, I throw the cup of beer I’m holding with my free hand into its face. There is a loud hiss, like water hitting a burning skillet, and the skin of its face begins to bubble and melt away. It shrieks in agony and lets go of my arm to cradle its wounded face.

I turn and run.

I’m running as fast as I can but I’m hardly getting anywhere. The world is in slow motion. My legs are heavy, like I’m running underwater.

I can hear the thing behind me, snarling in rage. I make it to the hall. I can see the door at the end. It’s cracked open and a bright light shines through. If I can only make it into that light, I know I’ll be safe. The thing’s frantic breathing is right behind me as I run. It’s getting closer. The heat from its breath is on my neck as I reach for the door knob. I won’t make it in time. Any second it will tear into my back with burning razor claws. I get my hand around the knob and pray my sweaty grip will hold as I throw open the door.

Chapter 3

Everything is flooded
with brilliant white light. I hear a distant and muffled keen of defeat in the background and know that it must be the thing that used to be Tori. I step into the blinding whiteness, not knowing what awaits. As I bring my foot down into the room, it meets only air. I try to grab the doorframe as I’m slipping downward but it’s too late. I’m falling.

I’m tumbling head over feet into the white void. As I try to stabilize myself, I have a moment of clarity. I realize with relief that I’m dreaming. Tori is still Tori. She is not a demonic creature bent on my destruction. It’s difficult to relax, however, while hurtling at full speed toward the ground. My heart pounds loudly in my ears. The only other sound is my gasps as I fight to breathe against the silent wind. I scan the black-and-white world beneath me, trying to figure out where I am.

As I get closer, I see I am plummeting toward a suburban neighborhood. Cookie-cutter houses dot streets in perfect parallel lines, and a few cars are parked outside some of the residences. There are no cars in motion, though, or people walking about. Everything is still—like a black-and-white aerial photograph of an empty town.

As I descend even more, the houses and lawns become clearer and I start to feel that familiar choking sensation of panic. I’m breathing faster and fighting the urge to scream. Down and down I go, nearing the point where it will be too much for me.

I know it’s a dream—it’s always a dream. I can’t get hurt. But how can I feel the wind whipping my hair around my face? I shouldn’t be able to feel anything if I’m really dreaming. That’s what they say, isn’t it? That you can’t feel anything in dreams? Then why are my eyes stinging? No, it’s not a dream. Somehow, I’m really falling and when I slam into the street below me, I’ll really die!

I’m fighting with everything I have now. I kick my legs, flail my arms, grunting with effort. My grunts turn into whimpers as I realize there’s nothing I can do. This is the end of everything. I squeeze my eyes shut so I can’t see the last few seconds of my descent and the hard black street that will claim my life. The last word screaming through my mind is
Dad!

And then, it stops. I’m not falling. I’m lying perfectly still and it’s as though I have fallen onto a giant cushion of air. It isn’t painful. My breaths come easier than when I was falling. I peek through squinted eyelids, expecting to see my own bed beneath me and my dark room all around, but I can’t make sense of what I see.

I open my eyes wide and turn my head from side to side, taking in everything. I’m hovering in the air over the neighborhood street, suspended about ten feet off the ground.

Well, this is new
.

I’ve never had a falling dream like this before. Everything is still bleached of color and there is still no sound but my breathing.

Before I can contemplate my situation further, I begin to feel a light pressure on my back as though a gentle wind is blowing downwards against me. It steadily picks up strength, and as it grows stronger, the cushion of air below me starts to push up. The competition between the two is uncomfortable, and my hair whips around against the opposing forces of wind. I get the distinct feeling that something or someone is trying to force me through an unseen barrier surrounding this neighborhood. Meanwhile, something or someone on the other side is trying to keep me out.

The pressure builds and I’m having a hard time getting air into my lungs. If this continues much longer, I’ll be squished flat. And what happens if I
do
make it through the barrier? There will be nothing to catch my fall but the street below me. I’m sure I can survive a drop this high but not without some scrapes and bruises.

I’m in pain now. Everything hurts. I swear I can feel my ribs cracking inside me. Right when I’m certain I can’t take another second of this excruciating pain, something beneath me breaks. I’m through! Only the rushing wind behind me doesn’t let up and I find myself being hurled with extreme force onto the pavement of the street below. I barely manage to get my hands in front of me to break my fall before I slam into the ground.

Pain.

Searing, red-hot pain. Sharp as a knife and as REAL as it comes. I can’t breathe. The wind must have been knocked out of me. My lungs ache for oxygen as I gasp for air, and I try to stave off the panic that feeling brings. I force myself to relax and settle for the short breaths I’m able to take now.

As I lie in the street waiting for my lungs to regain their functionality, I take note of other painful areas. My head hurts and I’m dizzy. My hands and knees sting. I can tell without looking that my palms are shredded and bleeding. They must have taken the brunt of the impact. Given everything, I think I’ve survived surprisingly well.

My left cheek is resting on the warm road, so I’m able to feel it when the first vibrations start—soft little vibrations, almost soothing, like someone tapping their fingers on a table. Over and over.

My lungs have loosened up so I try for a deeper breath. As I breathe in, a sharp pain shoots through the left side of my rib cage. Something’s broken there.

The scent of tar fills my nostrils. I slowly lift my face off the pavement as far as I comfortably can and feel blood trickle down my cheek and neck. The skin on that side of my face burns when a light breeze touches it.I’m lying directly in the middle of the road. My feet face a driveway and my head faces another one across the street. I consider calling out for help, but this neighborhood looks completely deserted. I don’t see a single soul. I don’t hear anything—nearby or in the distance. No hum from car engines, no dogs barking. Nothing except for dead leaves scraping crisply down the street in the breeze.

It takes me a second to realize that the scene around me is no longer devoid of color. Instead it looks as though the color had been washed out of the surroundings. Where the trees and grass should be a brilliant green, it’s pale green instead. A faded maroon Volkswagen is parked to the left of the driveway behind me, though it otherwise looks brand new. The house in front of me is pale tan. Even the sky is a weak pastel blue.

I try to sit up using only the sides of my hands, but my arms quiver and balk when I try to support the weight of my upper body on them. I decide to rest another minute and then try again. I lay my face back down on the street and concentrate on breathing. I can feel the vibrations again. They’re stronger than before and I wonder what’s causing them. It suggests there’s someone in this place other than myself. I feel the rhythmic beating through my chest as the vibrations get stronger. Bits of gravel in the street in front of my eyes begin to tremble in time with the vibrations. Soon they are shaking and dancing around.

Something in the distance, beyond the dancing gravel bits, catches my eye. There! At the end of the street is movement. I pick my head up and squint in that direction. Whatever it is, it’s big, and it’s moving this way fast.

The vibrations intensify to a steady thump-thump, thump-thump. It reminds me of the cadence of galloping horses, but the thing at the end of the street doesn’t resemble a horse in any way. Its shape is vaguely human, only it’s at least ten feet tall—far too tall to be any person I’ve ever seen. Its legs and arms are impossibly long and it glides too smoothly—almost fluidly—to be human. As it gets closer, it looks as if it’s wearing a helmet on its stretched out head and are those …
rollerblades
on its feet? That would explain the way it moves as well as its speed.

The pounding is so strong now that I begin to shake on the street the way the gravel had only seconds before. Most importantly though, it’s so strong and loud that I realize the rhythm doesn’t match the gait of the stretchy figure heading my way. If this impossible rollerblading creature isn’t responsible for shaking the earth, what is?

I continue to watch Stretch-thing approach and it seems to be gesturing frantically at me. I can’t figure out what it’s trying to say, but I watch in fascination as it puts its head down and pounds the pavement harder to speed up.

Just then, an unbelievably loud roar comes from the other direction. The hairs on my arms lift as I turn my head around to see where it’s coming from.

At the other end of the street, running toward me full tilt, is an incredibly large, unrecognizable beast. It looks like the offspring of a rhinoceros and a bear. It’s as big as a semi-truck and pitch black—a black darker than the deepest shadows on the darkest night. Looking at it makes my flesh crawl and the word
abomination
screams through my mind.

The beast is closing in fast. It grunts and growls as it pushes down the street, shouldering entire cars off the road and into the houses. I think it wants nothing more than to trample the life out of me.

I whip my head around as I start to get up to run, my previous pains forgotten in my desperation to survive. The stretchy creature has nearly reached me and yells something but I can’t make it out. It motions with its too-long arms for me to lie back down. Frantically I turn my head back and forth, trying to see who will reach me first. I pray it isn’t the beast. As they are both nearly on me, the beast leaps up in the air bellowing victory. In mere seconds, it will crash down on me.

“GET DOWN!” I hear as I turn toward the elongated thing. It dives and forcefully crashes into me. We tumble on the pavement, rolling out from under the dark monster. We roll maybe five or six times and the Stretch-thing maneuvers all the while, taking the brunt of each impact. We are up just as fast and I’m in its arms and it’s carrying me as it glides down the street and away from the beast at breakneck speed.

Clinging desperately to my rescuer, I glance over its shoulder. Through wisps of the creature’s blonde hair whipping around behind us I see the monster skid to a stop as it realizes it’s missed its target. It ricochets off the side of a house and U-turns in our direction. I’m in awe of its agility.

“Hang in there, mate! We’re nearly there!” This thing was talking to me! It was trying to reassure me! It sounded female and oddly enough, Australian? Whatever it is, I am grateful it saved me. I only hope it’s as benign as it seems. I hold on as tightly as I can.

I’m amazed at how easily this being can carry me and still move so swiftly. The houses and cars around us are a blur. I look ahead and see the street ends at a big white house. Behind us, the monster is gaining and will reach us in a matter of seconds. As we get closer to the house at the end of the street, she doesn’t seem to be slowing at all. She’s going to crash right into the garage door!

I bury my face in her neck and wait for the impact—the impact that doesn’t come. She stops moving. Is she crazy? The beast is right behind us! I look up and am shocked to see we’re inside a huge garage-like room, but this garage is way bigger than the one we almost crashed into should have been.

What just happened?

I look up into the face of the stretchy girl. She’s panting slightly but grinning down at me. As I watch her, she slowly begins to shrink. She sets me down gently on the concrete floor and steadies me so I don’t collapse. All the while, she continues to get smaller and smaller.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Could’ve gone a lot worse really. It was lucky for you, being dropped so close to a Calm, wasn’t it?”

She is now a perfectly proportioned girl about my age and height. She sees me glance nervously at the garage door and says, “Oh, no worries, mate, she’ll be apples. Nothing can get in here but us Realmwalkers. I’m Melissa by the way. Mel if ya like.” She tips an imaginary hat. “And let me be the first to say, welcome to Chaos.”