Beyond

“Another shoe,” Puck held it in the flashlight.

He, Andy, and Scarlatina ran their lights up the walls.

“What’s that?” Andy said.

Etched into the wall were symbols. They were long narrow rectangles that comprised a busy thatch work of white markings.

“I wonder,” Scarlatina said. She touched the rock and vanished.

“What in Christ’s name…” said Andy.

The two men stood there for some time.

“I think I should try it too,” said Puck.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah Andy. I don’t understand what’s going on here. I don’t pretend to understand it one bit. But I think our girl’s somewhere behind this wall. And if I get stuck in there, I need to know somebody’s still on this side who will try to save me.”

Before Andy could say anything Puck reached for the wall and vanished.

Puck was surrounded by darkness. He heard the surge of electricity and smelled sulfer.

He blinked.

He was in a room with grubby hardwood floors. The walls were covered in black moldy spots. He turned around and around. He was alone.

“Over here,” said a voice said behind him.

The maintenance man leaned against the wall. His dark eyes were wide, and his lips were pulled back.

“Where am I?” asked Puck.

“Elsewhere?” he said. When he spoke it sounded like his voice started before his mouth moved.

“Who are you? Where is Jennifer Odamer?”

“Which one is that?” The maintenance man’s inflections were disjointed, and his vowels drawn out.

“I know she’s here.”

The maintenance man pointed behind Puck, who turned around. He heard a low hum.

Before him Jenna Odamer sat on the floor. He clothes were torn, her hair was dry and dead, and she looked like she hadn’t slept for two weeks.

“I keep them with me,” said the maintenance man, now beside him, “for the energy, for their pain and sorrow. You or her. Doesn’t matter.

Scarlatina found herself in a stormy field. In the distance was the vine covered tower that had plagued her dreams for months. She heard faint singing. The air smelled heavy, as if it had just rained. Water squeaked in her shoes as she walked through the wet grass. The doorway was an oval of old stone. Scarlatina ran her hand over it. It felt real enough. Water dripped from the pillars inside. She walked in.

At a wind torn table was Ashbrook, The Stranger, and The Singer.

“Another one?” said The Stranger.

The Singer droned on her rendition of Ave Maria. There was pure emotion behind it. Blood flecks dotted her chin.

“Not just anyone!” Ashbrook stood with difficulty, “Scarlatina, how did you get here? Did they trap you here too?”

“Ashbrook, I don’t know where I am,” she said, “or how to get back, but I came to save you.”

“Save both of us,” said The Stranger, who also stood.

“From what we can tell we’re in some sort of extra plain,” said Ashbrook, “we don’t know anything else.”

“What about her?” asked Scarlatina.

“All she does is sing that song over and over,” said The Stranger, “now, if there is a way out of here.”

The Stranger wore a business suit and hat. Scarlatina placed him in his mid thirties. He had tired eyes and premature wrinkles.

“I don’t know-” Scarlatina felt dizzy. Her vision swam and she fell. She saw a hand reach for her.

When Scarlatina came to she was back in the cave. Through her fuzzy vision she saw Andy helping a figure to its feet. She turned her head. The man from the vision, The Stranger, was laying next to her. Her vision got fuzzy again as she looked up. The wall was blank. Then she knew no more.