“You do?”

“And the knowledge of all the other people trapped in that house.  Plus, I think the house itself gave me an intimate connection to the fissure.  I could even feel Father Billy a little bit.  I’m not sure if it was because he’s in the fissure or because he was with you, but I could see where he was and how to guide you back to him.”

“Wait…  So that was you sending me those text messages?”

“Yep!”

“How did you—?”

“I’m in your head, remember?”

“Right.  That’s useful.  Thanks.”

“By the way, Father Billy’s fine.  He might’ve lost some of his hearing, but he’s definitely not dead.”

“That’s good news.  I was worried.”

“I know.”

“This you-being-in-my-head thing is a little weird.”

“I know that too.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay.  I’m just happy you’re safe.”

“I’m just super excited to be able to talk to you!”

“Me too.  Where are you?  You said you could go to other houses like Altrusk’s?”

“I can.  And not all of them are super-scary.  This one’s kind of nice.  It’s in Australia.”

“Australia?  Really?”

“I know, right?”

“So there’s a fissure in Australia?”

“There’re fissures all over the place.  They’re not all well-defined.  And they don’t all connect to nightmare worlds like the one you’re in.  Like I said, it’s nice here.”

“Cool.”

“But I should go for now.  You need to concentrate on the path.  I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Oh.  And can I call Karen?”

“What?  Oh.  Yeah.  I guess.  You can do that?”

“Of course.  I can call anybody now.”

“Even your parents?”

Isabelle paused.  “Um.  Yeah.  I can.  But…”

“What would you say?”

“Yeah.  They’d think it was a cruel practical joke.  And that wouldn’t be cool.  But Karen’s a real nice person.  And she already knows about me.  I’d like to talk to her.”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks!”

“But she’s going to be a little surprised to hear from you.”

“I know.  But she’ll be cool with it.  I’m sure of it.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll talk to you later.  Bye-bye!”

“Bye.”  Eric hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment.  That was probably the single strangest telephone conversation he’d ever had.  But it was also very likely the happiest.

Smiling to himself, he continued on.

Chapter Twenty

The road carried him past more pastures and a lot more cornfields.  There was even a soybean field.  That made for a nice change of scenery.

Yet the usual peacefulness of the rolling farmland was gone.  He was constantly watching these fields, waiting to see something dark and green rise up above the corn stalks and peek at him.  And of course, if there were such things as corn creeps, why not soybean creeps?  Cow creeps?  Hay creeps?  Or even just another pissed off monkey.

The sun had begun to sink in the western sky, but he still had a few hours left before dusk.  The temperature had not even begun to drop yet.  He considered what Father Billy told him about the corn creeps not coming out at night and wondered if it would really be safer after dark, or if those horrors would only give way to even more dangerous creatures.

He had a feeling that, regardless of the time of day, there would always be something in the fissure to fear.

For the time being, however, the only threat seemed to be sunburn.  His arms and neck had grown noticeably hot from his time in the August sun.  It was going to be an uncomfortable night.  But at this rate, he’d count himself lucky if he lived long enough to suffer through it.

He was also starving.  He’d now missed both breakfast and lunch.  If he was stuck out here much longer, he might find that he’d gladly go a round with Furious George for a McDonald’s drive-through.

In the dream, he recalled making his way along this path.  He also began to recall something else.  An injury.  His arm was bleeding.  It wasn’t bad, but in the dream he kept looking at it.  It burned.

Looking at his right arm now, in the waking world, Eric saw no sign of the injury, of course, but he could remember it vividly.  It looked like teeth marks.

During the time he was off the path, taking his unplanned detour through Father Billy’s church, he was supposed to be continuing along the road, across that wooden bridge.  Because he hadn’t gone there, the memory of that part of the dream never came back to him like it did in the other places he’d visited.  Only vague snippets recurred to him.

He wondered why he’d been able to recall perfectly the details of the rooms back at the resort building without entering them.  Merely standing in the doorway and looking toward those rooms had brought back vivid recollections of the dusty, empty spaces behind those doors.  Similarly, he realized that he’d remembered much more of the grounds surrounding Altrusk’s house than he had actually seen.  He’d even used the memory to save himself the trouble of searching for the path leading away.

Perhaps it was his proximity.  After all, he recalled getting as far as the wooden bridge, though he never saw that structure during his flight from the corn creeps.

Maybe it had to do with straying so far from the path he took in the dream.

All he could recall was some sort of building.  A house, he thought, but he couldn’t quite be sure.

A series of incoherent images rolled around deep in his mind.  A porch.  A driveway.  A decorative well.  Something strange about a tree…  Something watching him…?  Noises.  Panic.  Running.

He couldn’t make any of it come together.  It was no use.

But somewhere along the way, he’d been bitten.  And the shape of the teeth marks in his arm was almost human…

He couldn’t even tell himself that it was only a dream.

But at least he hadn’t been seriously harmed.  He’d continued on, little worse for the wear, meaning that Dream Eric had still probably ended up with the preferred path.  He had only traded a bite mark on his right arm for a painful scratch on his left.

Around him, the fields were quiet.  These were mostly fallow, empty, allowing him an unobstructed view all around him.

Nothing stalked him here.

But perhaps farther out, beyond where he could see clearly…

He walked and he watched for unnatural things, until at last he crested a hill and looked down into the next valley.  A large building waited there for him.

It appeared to be an old factory of some kind.  Several smoke stacks rose from one end of the facility.  Several large storage tanks stood at its back.  A large loading dock with six bays stood empty and silent.  A single stretch of blacktop led away from the building and off through the open hayfields.

An old sign still stood out by the road.  Half of it had blown off long ago—likely in a storm—so that it was impossible to read the name of the company, but its logo was still visible.  It appeared to be a Canada goose.

Standing at the top of the hill, looking down at the sprawling structure, his only thought was, What now?

He closed his eyes and recalled the dream.  Two days ago, the Eric who would never have met Father Billy set off down the hill toward the silent factory.  Today, the Eric who was never bitten did the same.

He had barely begun when his phone rang again.

“I just had the strangest conversation of my life,” Karen announced before he could even say, “Hello.”

He didn’t have to ask who this conversation was with.  “Isabelle’s a sweet kid, isn’t she?”

“Very sweet, yes.  Also kind of spooky.”

“Well she has been trapped in a psychotic, inter-dimensional house for the last thirty-six years.”

“That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I’ve dealt with harder things to accept today.”  The foggy man’s three golems were not the least of these things.