Dreamscape (33 page)

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Authors: Carrie James Haynes

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Ghosts

BOOK: Dreamscape
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She stared back at him. Said nothing. He roared, sending another force of energy at her while he backed into the portal. The winds swirled around him, sweeping him back into the tunnel. He laughed. She lashed her hand in front of her face repelling the energy. Her other hand reached toward the portal sending a bright ribbon to the fleeing demon. It attached to him. She jerked forward into the portal. Tossed and turned, thrust through an endless seam of flames, she crashed violently down against ragged rocks.

She ached. Could hardly catch her breath. She opened her eyes to blackness. A terrible suffocating smell overwhelmed her. Her eyes focused in the dim light. Forms took shape: bare, darkened trees over exposed ground—dry, scaly ground, rocks, and boulders over barren cliffs. In the distance, a structure emerged out of the granite mountain it had been embedded in. Explosions arose all around her as lava flowed down sides of exposed boulders and rocks. Ash-filled clouds encompassed the terrain. Terror rushed through her with recognition. She had returned, back to the place she feared the most.

Hell.

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

“He’s dying,” Jackson said. He stood up. “I don’t know why, but he’s dying.”

“What the hell do we do? We have to get her back,” Thorpe frantically stated. He scanned the area for anything, anything at all. “A trinket, a necklace, a stone that would call her back.”

“No, Thorpe. I don’t know.” Jackson shook his head. “Thorpe, you can. You can save her. It was what the Indian was trying to tell Sam. The bond. It was always supposed to be you. Call her.”

“How?”
“I don’t know how. Goddamn it, Thorpe, call her.”
Thorpe knelt. He grabbed DeNair’s unconscious body by the shoulders. “Wake up. Tell me. Where is she?”

Jackson leaned down. He put his hand on Thorpe’s shoulder to ease him, but a jolt, a spark sent him stumbling backwards. Thorpe looked at Jackson, confused. Thorpe began to fade. Jackson reached for him. His hand went right through him. Then Thorpe vanished.

Thorpe’s stomach turned. He spiraled out of control. A sensation of riding a roller coaster up to its highest peak and in the next instant falling down the steep incline beset him, but this incline had no end. He couldn’t see, breathe. He stopped, crashing down upon the rock-hard surface with a force that threatened losing consciousness. He willed himself awake, but there was no light, only a dim glow that surrounded him. The solid, warm surface lay beneath him, and shadows lingered within shadows. Something reached out and touched his shoulder. He jumped.

His eyes adjusted quickly. A form approached, a bright light in the darkness. Her face appeared.

“Ramona,” he muttered. “Where the hell are we?”

She bent down, extending her soft hand to help him to his feet. Her face betrayed her shock at seeing him here with her. She bit her bottom lip, visibly upset. He stumbled as he stood but regained his footing, reached for her. He held her by the shoulders. She shook her head.

“What are you doing here? How?” she whispered. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I don’t know where here is,” he said.

She stood before him in the white robes she’d worn during their dream encounters. He looked down. His clothes had changed also. His shirt and pants were of soft deer skin, leather fringes with beads, a belt tied at his waist. He shook his head. His clothing was the least of his problems.

His senses returned. A nauseating smell overpowered him, a sulfuric smell. He coughed. Sounds resonated around him, annoying chants, shrills, a constant bellowing of suffering muffled in the distance. A clap of thunder startled them. They looked to the darkening sky. In the diffused fog figures formed. Two devils rose up. They spread their wings and took to the sky. Thorpe threw himself over Ramona so her light would not call attention to them. He prayed as he held her and watched the devils. They flew low over the desiccated land to what seemed a lake in the distance—a burning, flaming lake.

“It’s all right,” he said. He pulled her in his arms and rested against a stone. “They seem to be gone. We need to get out of here, Ramona. We don’t have much time. How do we do that?”

She shook her head. “There is no way back, Doug. You shouldn’t have come.” Tears fell from her eyes. “This is mine to finish. I meant for no one else to be harmed. Why did you come?”

He stared at her. He had known her intentions. Had read them. “Ramona, I don’t pretend to know much about this, but I’m going to guess that if I’m here that means that there’s a way out because I got in. Where is here?”

“You answered you own question the first time, Doug. Hell, Doug, we are on the outskirts of Hell.”

He stared silently for a moment. Tilted his head to look into her eyes. “And why, pray tell, are we here?”

“To destroy Surmoas. To take down their portal to our world,” she answered nervously. Her head turned side to side, looking. She stood. “I don’t have time to explain. Surmoas will move.” She held up her left hand. A translucent stream excerpted from her palm. “It ties me to him. He will move to the temple, Pandemonium. When he does, I’ll bring it down and along with it the portal and other demons—and with it my penance for deserting my destiny.”

Thorpe crawled to his feet. “Are you out of your mind, Ramona? Is that your plan? It’s not a plan at all. It’s a suicide mission. You’re reacting. We need a plan.”

“We don’t have time. They’ll discover us. I have to hit them when they least expect it. Surmoas believes he’s safe now. He’ll call for Damien, I’m sure. I have to make my strike then,” she said and pointed to a summit on the eastern range; along the high rocks and broken fragments piled promiscuously by contorted hands in a confused mingled mass was a structure sitting on an oblong square. “It’s there. There is where the portal gives rise.”

“Ramona, how do you know these things?” Thorpe managed to ask. He looked around. He’d never been so frightened. He felt trapped in a nightmare, but he wouldn’t be waking up from this, a place where no hope existed, only pain and suffering. He saw the fear in her eyes as he searched them.

His hand cupped her face. She trembled, but he sensed her determination. There would be no turning back, even if they could. He nodded. “We’ll do it together.”

A hot wind blew. He felt the breath go out of Ramona. He held firm. She’d been whisked down the rocks. The movement jolted him. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed a jagged boulder sticking out of the ground, Ramona heading straight for it. Fear surged through him in that instant, and a glow surrounded them both, repelling the force of the rock.

Shocked, he caught sight of Ramona’s frightened eyes. He’d become her protector in this world, seen her power within her walks; his job to protect her. With that look, he knew her thoughts. He’d be with her through to the end.

The ground warmed underneath their feet. Surmoas headed toward his temple. Thorpe prayed Surmoas had no idea they were within his realm as the journey ended. His heart raced, and his gaze scaled the stone pillars in front of them, pillars that leaned one against another. The temple had battled many a clash among its inhabitants. Scorched stains lined the pathway up to the structure.

Adrenaline flowed through him. He stared up at the massive construction, visibility limited to only a few feet. The sounds became louder. Over the doorway he made out symbols. He looked back at Ramona, extending his hand to help her up.

“It is a warning,” she whispered. Her eyes cautiously watched the surrounding darkness. “Abandon all hope, all who enter within.”
The two started to climb the stairs. Thorpe helped Ramona up another step. “How do you know so much about this place?”
“I’ve been here before,” she said.

Her right hand held his hand tightly. He looked down at her and wondered what she had endured in her life that would have led her here. He didn’t have time to ask. They stood in the gateway. Ramona took a deep breath. She glanced back at Thorpe.

He grabbed her and pulled her in his arms. “We don’t have to do this, Ramona. We can go. Come up with another plan.”

“I have no choice, Doug.” Her hand moved to his face, softly caressing it. “For once I will fulfill my destiny without question.” She smiled. “It brought me you.”

He nodded. His instincts wanted to snatch her up and find some way out of this hell hole, but there would be no going back. He wouldn’t leave her.

Her eyes read his. She squeezed his hand. They walked into the bowels of Hell on a wing and a prayer. She stepped toward the opening. A moment later, she was wrenched away from Thorpe. The gate opened wide, dragging Ramona within. She whipped inside, and the stone door started to close. If he didn’t move quickly the door would crush him. He edged through it, and it pressed against him. With every bit of energy he had he pushed himself through. The door closed catching the fringe of his shirt. He jerked and broke free.

He turned. A flame burned in the center of the colossal hall, lighting up the stone walls of the temple. Torches lined the walls illuminating a petrifying sacrificial altar. In front of the altar a stage formed, an arena, surrounded by a swarm of beings. Devils. A roar erupted from a form, a vile being, gigantic, towering over all up toward the ceiling. The flames reflected off his leathery red hide. His wrinkled skin swathed his skull, its mammoth crimson eyes engorged. Surmoas salivated as he coveted his prey. Thorpe watched helplessly. Ramona stood alone in the dark-formed circle.

 

* * * *

 

Jackson shook his head as Montgomery entered the basement. Montgomery had just arrived. The EMTs waited until word from Jackson to begin work on the suspect. The condo complex blazed with flashing red lights, brimmed full of law enforcement. At least they were upstairs. Montgomery walked down the stairs of the basement and stepped over DeNair’s body.

“I hear you won’t let anyone around the body. Is he alive?” Montgomery asked. He walked over to Jackson, who sat on the edge of the couch. “Don’t you think we need to get him out of here? He doesn’t look in good shape.”

Jackson rubbed his face. He shook his head. “Can’t. Can’t move him.”

“Dunn, there better be a good reason,” Montgomery began.

“They disappeared, Montgomery. They disappeared around him.” Jackson pointed to DeNair. “We can’t move him. What happens when they return? If they return? Do you want everyone to see?”

Montgomery squinted, interrupted Jackson. “Hold on, Dunn. You’re not trying to tell me that they just vanished?” He held his finger up, pointing toward DeNair. He stuttered. “I…I mean….” He walked around the body. “It was one thing when you were talking psychics. It can’t be….” He turned back to Jackson. “We can’t just let the guy die on the floor while everyone watches.”

“I know,” Jackson said. “But I’m just telling you I feel it. They want to return, and when or if they do, they have to do it through him.”

Jackson nodded toward DeNair. “He just has to stay alive, sir.”
No sooner than the words were uttered, DeNair gasped for breath. His body shook.
Montgomery eyed Jackson and shouted. “Get the EMTs down here, now!”
Left with no choice, Jackson watched powerlessly. The EMTs rushed down the stairs. DeNair’s eyes rolled.
“Lost the pulse.”
They ripped off his shirt, shocked him. “We have to get him out of here.”

Montgomery caught Jackson’s attention. Jackson shook his head and mouthed no. Montgomery shook his head. He didn’t have a choice. “Get him out of here.”

Jackson tried to contain himself. The EMTs quickly lifted DeNair onto a stretcher and rushed up the steps. Dunn followed. Every inch of his being cried for DeNair to be left on the floor, the only way back.

The EMTs flicked quickly for the stretcher’s wheels to come down and rolled him out the kitchen and into the foyer. The stretcher shook. DeNair convulsed. Dunn watched in horror. They stopped. DeNair heaved, vomit gushing out over the floor. They couldn’t get near him. He shook. The whole stretcher shook. The bonds holding DeNair down broke. Shocked, the EMTs slowly inched away, their gazes locked on the sight. Montgomery couldn’t move after he stepped into the kitchen.

Jackson pushed through. A sudden burst lifted DeNair off the stretcher. He floated in midair.

“Get out of here,” Jackson yelled at the EMTs. “Get out of here, now.”

 

* * * *

 

Roars exploded, echoing loudly within the temple walls. The flames that lit the arena reflected off all who screamed, cried for blood. Ramona stood without fear and surveyed her surroundings. She caught sight of her mission beyond the pool of flames—a swirling mirror. She turned to face her tormentor.

“Welcome, Dream Walker. Damien will be pleased. I will make sure he gets to view what is left of your body when I’m done with you,” he bellowed and stepped closer. “What fun we will have, woman. You will wish you were never born.”

“Where is Damien, Surmoas?” she demanded. “You won’t do anything until he comes. You wouldn’t dare.”

Thorpe stood in the shadows undetected. All attention turned upon her. He didn’t know what to do. His gaze fixed upon her. The walls seemed to close in. The temperature rose. He sweated profusely.

A rupture beneath his feet made him jump. The ground beneath split open slightly. He leaped to the side. An unnatural laughter followed. Ramona had fallen. She lay with her arms holding her up. She scrambled to her feet.

“I do not need the chosen one, fool,” Surmoas snarled. “His time will come to an end.”

“You challenge Damien.” Ramona laughed. “Now who is the fool?”

His anger detonated. “Where are you, Dream Walker? Here in the heart of Hell. You won’t escape this time. You will be here for eternity. Fire that penetrates the soul without destroying it. It’s a terrible suffering, continual darkness.”

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