Hunted (18 page)

There
had been a little different of a feel to Sheree's dreams than to
mine, but this was incredible. These dreams were almost compelling
enough to mistake for the real world. I tried to change the color of
a single leaf, fixing the image I wanted in my mind and pushing, but
the faintest of flickers was my only reward for the effort and
strength I'd just expended.

Any
lingering question I might have had about this possibly being my own
dream was settled. I sat down in the middle of the sunflowers and
started trying to flee this particular dream. There had been the
tiniest of inclinations to explore my new surroundings, to see if the
dreamer whose hospitality I was imposing on might be a potential
friend rather than an enemy, but I knew that would be stupid. I
needed to build up my endurance, needed to master those few things I
already knew before I went looking for allies in the dream.

I
took a couple of slow, deep breaths and then tried to block out this
dream as I simultaneously focused on the real world. I expected it to
be a little bit of a challenge, but I'd done this four times
now—twice on purpose—so I expected it to be doable.

I
hadn't counted on the way that the breeze continued to caress my
cheeks or the deep, earthy smell that it carried. Even the feel of
the ground underneath me and the flowers brushing against my back
served to enforce the immediacy and strength of this reality.

It
was harder than I expected to remember all of the little details
about the real world. The exact feel of my sheets against my bare
arms and the sound of Cindi's breathing were just out of my reach and
with them the easy escape from this dream that I'd been expecting to
accomplish.

I
sat there for several minutes, but each attempt failed and each
failure drained some of my limited supply of strength. I was just
about to start my fourth attempt when I heard someone walking through
the field of flowers.

I
tried to stand just enough to see without being seen, but he happened
to be looking directly at me and stopped moving as soon as he saw me.

"Interesting."

He
didn't seem angry, and he hadn't tried to kill me or anything yet. It
was actually a much better start to things than I'd been expecting. I
cautiously stood up, both to get a better look at him as well as to
let him see that I wasn't at all threatening.

I
tried a hesitant smile as I looked him over. He looked like he was
ninety and had a white beard that had to be nearly as old as he was.
His skin was wrinkled and had the liver spots that I would have
expected in someone that old, but there was one detail that didn't
match with the rest of his appearance.

He
wasn't moving like an old man. He had an elaborately carved walking
stick in his right hand, but he wasn't at all stooped over and the
simple brown robe he was wearing seemed to be hiding shoulders that
were surprisingly broad for someone who otherwise looked like they
should be nearly to their deathbed.

"What's
interesting?"

"You
don't belong here in my dream."

"You
know this is a dream?"

"Indeed
I do. It's one that I dream on a regular basis, one I've dreamed for
more years than you've been alive."

"You
never dream of other people being here with you?"

"Occasionally,
but never someone like you."

His
gesture took in my appearance. I looked down and felt myself blush.
I'd been so busy trying to make sure that I wasn't recognizable that
I hadn't really stopped to think about how the total package might
look. My face was distorted enough he probably hadn't even been sure
I was human to start out with.

"I'm
sorry, this isn't how I normally look, but it's important that I keep
who I really am a secret. I've been told that it's not safe for me
here in the dream world, that there are a lot of supernatural…beings
that would harm me if they could."

He
frowned, but it wasn't an angry frown as much as it was sad.

"Secrecy
is almost always a tool of those with evil intentions, and it
requires someone very far gone indeed to see danger behind every tree
and bush. I will give you the benefit of the doubt though. Why did
you seek me out?"

I
shrugged. "I didn't, not really. Maybe you brought me here
somehow. I'm not completely in control of where I end up when I go to
sleep. Sometimes I just go straight to my own dreams, sometimes I end
up in the dreams of other people."

"No,
I'm afraid it's nothing I've done. In all of my years I've never
encountered a…dream walker before now."

"Still,
you have some kind of power though, don't you? You have to be unique
in some way."

He
gave me an appraising look. "Each person is unique. You'll
excuse me if I choose not to share more than that given your own
reluctance to be forthright with me."

His
words were delivered with such calm that it didn't sound like any
kind of stinging rebuke, but I felt myself recoiling away from him
regardless.

"I'm
sorry, child. That was unnecessarily harsh. Tell me what you can
about your situation and ask me what you will. I can't promise to
tell you all, but I will tell you whatever I can if it seems that it
will help you."

"I'm
not sure what to tell you, or even what to ask."

He
just nodded patiently, so I asked something that felt relatively
harmless.

"How
is your dream so detailed? I've been in other people's dreams and
they aren't nearly this vivid."

"Ah,
I hadn't realized that my dreams were in any way different from
anyone else's. I don't know for sure, but I suspect that it has
something to do with my age, and possibly some of the mental
disciplines that I have practiced over the years."

I
didn't know what else to ask him, but before the silence could get
too awkward he cleared his throat.

"How
long have you been traveling into other people's dreams?"

"A
few weeks, maybe more, but definitely not more than a month or two. I
started out sharing dreams with some of the kids from my school. It
was pretty harmless really, and I didn't even realize what was
happening until it became obvious that some of the things I knew
weren't things that anyone had told me."

"But
at some point you started running into people you didn't know,
dangerous people."

I
nodded. "There was this Native American guy who shifts into some kind of
monster, and then there was this wax lady. The Native American guy told me how
to leave someone else's dream, but both times I ran into him he
practically killed me."

"And
this…wax woman?"

"She
tried to strangle me and right there at the end it was like she was
sending these tendrils of smoke into my head."

"Were
you able to see her face? Would you recognize her if you saw her
again?"

"No,
she was all deformed and melted. All I really know is that she was
female and skinny, and I guess I don't even know that for sure
because I found out that people can change how they look. I would
recognize the Native American though because he wasn't hiding his real face
from me."

"And
you can tell when someone is not showing their true form?"

"Yes,
there's a kind of shimmer around them when they do that."

"Like
now?"

As
he asked me the question he transformed, becoming taller even as he
became less substantial. The process of the change took less than a
second and when it was done he'd been replaced by a glowing figure
that seemed constructed by nothing more than light. As I watched, his
glow intensified to the point where I almost couldn't look at him,
but if I put my hand between him and me just right to cut out most of
the light I was able to see the faintest hint of the shimmer I'd seen
when the Native American had made himself invisible.

"Yes,
I can see that isn't your true form. Do you mind toning it back
down?"

Between
one heartbeat and the next he shrank back down and solidified into
the form he'd been wearing when I'd arrived in the dream. It happened
so fast that it was almost instantaneous, but there was a split
second there where it had almost looked like he'd been someone I
knew. It was one of those things that was over so quickly that
afterwards you were pretty sure that it was just your imagination,
but the feeling that I'd recognized something about his intermediate
shape had been so strong that I had a hard time shaking it.

I
double-checked to make sure that the old man in front of me was
really his actual identity. There wasn't any shimmer or other
indication that he was forcing his dream to take on anything other
than his normal appearance.

He
looked strangely satisfied as he resumed his normal shape. "Although
I generally know that I'm dreaming when I come here, I've never been
able to control things to that extent. Talking to you like this is
making me more aware of just how much I can change."

The
sunflowers were wilting before my eyes, but he didn't seem to notice
that or the way that the sky was clouding over.

"I
think that you're right to be wary of these other two that you
encountered while dreaming. I can't teach you about the dream itself,
but I would be willing to teach you the mental exercises that I
believe have allowed me to create a dreamscape which is more complete
than others you have seen."

The
sun was almost completely occluded by the clouds now and the sky had
darkened ominously. I almost thought I could hear laughter, but it
was so faint as to be almost indistinguishable.

The
old man looked around at our surroundings and frowned at the way the
landscape was changing. A second later, the flowers were back and the
sky was a cloudless blue, but the flowers had lost some of the detail
and individuality that had impressed me so much when I'd first
arrived.

"I
appreciate your offer. How do I start?"

"Oh,
no. I'm afraid I can't teach you here in this place. It will take
time, even just getting started is the work of more than a single
night. Not only that, there is no guarantee that we'll meet again
like this. It would be best if we were to meet up in the real world.
There I'll be able to teach you the beginning exercises."

I
shook my head. I knew I needed to stall for time, but I was out of
ideas on how to do so. "I'm sorry. I really appreciate your
willingness to teach me, but the only thing that's keeping me safe
right now is the fact that none of the…people I run into in
the dream know how to find me in real life. Maybe if we meet again in
the future I'll get to the point where it would be okay for us to
meet, but right now that's just not a possibility."

There
was a flicker of something in his expression that was gone too
quickly for me to identify it.

"Are
you really so sure that you're safe, even with your real identity a
secret?"

Before
I could answer he struck, not physically, but with his superior
control over the dream we were in. The ground opened up, causing me
to stumble, and then closed back over my ankles, trapping me in
place.

I
was still reeling from the attack when I felt pressure starting to
build. It was like a giant vice was somehow pressing against every
single inch of my body at the same time. The part of my mind that was
maintaining the illusion that altered my appearance felt like acid
had been poured on it.

My
body shrank and then expanded slightly back out as I put more of my
strength into countering his attempt at unmasking me.

"You're
like a child. You have no idea what you're up against, no idea what's
at stake if you fail."

The
pressure from the vice doubled and my body collapsed in on itself. It
wasn't an exact match for my real body, it was still the chubbier
version of me that my subconscious still conjured here in the dream,
but he'd stripped away that layer of my defense.

I
tried to fight back, tried to reestablish the false body that I'd
been wearing just a few seconds previously, but my mind was pure
molten agony. Another wave of psychic pressure started to build and I
did the only thing I could think of to hide my identity. I threw
myself as far forward as my entrapped feet and ankles would allow,
obscuring my face with the fake black hair that he hadn't managed to
shift back to its normal color yet.

"I
don't think so."

Even
as he spoke something rough wrapped itself around my waist. I was
forced backwards against my will until finally I came to rest with my
back tight against the rough bark of a tree that hadn't been there
just a second before.

The
knotty branch that had wrapped itself around my waist was joined by
two more, one around my thighs and the other around my chest just
above where my ribs started. My arms were free and I clawed
desperately at the topmost branch in an effort to free myself, but
all I succeeded in doing was ripping my nails free of my fingers.

The
old man walked over to me and ran his fingers over my clothes,
shaking his head at the way that they hung from my body now. They'd
shrunk down somewhat as my body had diminished in size, but not
completely, and I knew I looked like a little girl playing dress-up
in her mother's clothes.

"We
really must do something about these."

The
pressure built so suddenly that I never even had a chance to fight
back. One second I was wearing clothes and then in the next, the
outer layer of my clothes had disappeared. I reacted out of instinct,
covering the underwear he'd just revealed, and only then realized my
mistake.

I'd
dressed myself in my cheerleading uniform.

I
tried to recover from my mistake, tried to change into a featureless
black jumpsuit, but he was obviously prepared for that because my
clothing darkened only slightly before snapping back to the
blue-on-white cheerleading shell and skirt that I'd owned for less
than a month.