It wasn’t long before the fog took their vision completely and forced them to feel their way through the challenging terrain. Hordes of mosquitoes surrounded them in the rising mist and latched on to any piece of flesh they could draw blood from. The weeds shortened, while the water level rose inch by inch with every step forward. The rising water made each movement harder than the last, and the thick layer of muck at the bottom provided unnecessary suction on their shoes.
Virginia tried not to imagine where they were or what they were traveling through. Perhaps being blind was a blessing. Something could be hiding in the fog. It could be anything, and it could be beside them, in front of them, or even right below them. If the water at her feet shifted lightly or in a different manner than before, she wondered if a moccasin could be circling her from below. The thought of being bit by a venomous snake at this time of night and this far away from town sounded like quick death. But while that gentle motion could be a snake, it could also be nothing, just a natural bubble formed from trapped air beneath her shoe. The unknown is always the most frightening.
The water level was nearly waist high now and yet still seemed to be getting deeper. Without knowing for sure how much further they had to go, it was impossible to tell how deep the water could get. They could have only begun to break the surface of the swamp, before long the water could be straddling their necks. This fear was felt collectively, though none spoke a word. The group held their thoughts within where they were safe and undisturbed by the ears listening in from all around.
Thankfully, not more than a minute later, Virginia noticed the water level evening out just above her waist. She took this as a good sign, a sign that they were perhaps halfway through the cold and murky swamp, and increased her strides.
The water, once calm and steady, now stirred back and forth with each quick jolt forward and created a minor ripple that drifted outward from the group. Just moments earlier, Virginia was focused on patience, carefully timing each step and trying to make as little noise as possible, but in an instant speed became her prime focus. With each continuing decrease in water, her motivation gained more fuel. It was as though she could see the end directly within her sight and was desperately scrambling to reach it before it disappeared again, next time for good.
Then, unexpectedly, Virginia clicked off the burners and stood motionless in the water. A light splash died and smoothed out just above her knees.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“Hear what?” asked Simmons.
Virginia listened closely, certain she had heard something.
Isaac wallowed up from behind Simmons and stood next to Virginia. He could barely make out her face through the fog but could tell by the way she frantically looked around that something had flustered her. “I didn’t hear anything,” he said. “But why don’t you let me go ahead and you can follow?”
“I’m serious Isaac. I heard something.”
“What did it sound like?” asked Simmons.
“Like a deep humming. I only heard it for a split second. Then it stopped.”
The group waited, wondering what to do next, wondering what choice they had, when the humming returned. The sound came from the left not far ahead of them.
“I think we woke it up,” Isaac said. “We’d better get out of here.” He took a deep breath and listened while the hum grew louder. “Right now.”
The group trampled through the thick water, building more speed with each dip in depth. Even though they had promised earlier not to let go for any reason, the urgency of the situation quickly made them forget about holding hands. Trying to run through swampy water was challenging enough on its own, holding hands would not only reduce the speed but the movement in which they could progress. The idea was to look after each other but to not let any one person sacrifice the group. No one agreed to the idea, it was simply understood.
The water level dropped to just under a foot and now splashed up at their knees. They tried to keep their focus while the low hum matured into a powerful bellow and now seemed to be coming from all around them. It was almost as if the sound had multiplied in seconds, forming a barrier that enveloped them within it.
Isaac felt confident he knew the creature making the sound striking such fear into all of them. He could think of many living things native to swamps, but only one that bellowed with such authority, and it was also the most dangerous.
The fog dissipated and the forest steadily came back into view. Virginia never thought she would be so glad to see the large, daunting trees again. Just ahead, she watched Isaac and Simmons cross over the water's edge. They turned and looked back with expressions of equal dismay, waiting for her arrival.
Safety was near, maybe seconds away, but nothing could have prepared Virginia for what happened next.
While she passed through the last few feet of water, her right foot slipped on a slick layer of muck causing her to lose her balance and fall head first to the water. Somehow, at the last second, she was able to prop her arms out in front of her, saving her head from going under.
From what seemed like miles away, Virginia could faintly hear Isaac and Simmons yell as her hands and knees dug into the deep slime. She raised her head and looked up at them standing less than ten feet away, motioning with their hands for her to hurry and get up. She ripped her palms from the thick mud, brought her legs forward underneath her chest to regain balance, and then stood up.
But when she went to move, her right foot slipped again, and this time she was unable to stop her head from going under. Her eyes were wide open as her face submerged in the brown, muddy water. She couldn’t see anything, only blackness. Her eyes burned, painfully, worse than at a public pool with a double dose of chlorine. So she closed them, and they burned even more.
From underneath the water, Virginia could hear the humming much clearer and louder, so loud her ears trembled from the vibration, and the trembling became worse as the deep hum drew closer.
Closer.
She raised her head to the surface and opened her eyes. Tiny drops of water dashed down from her forehead and fell into her eyes blurring her vision. She closed them and wiped the water away from her forehead. When she opened her eyes again, they were still hazy, but she could see something ahead, coming toward her. It looked large, colorless, but out of focus.
And the powerful bellowing returned.
Water gently splashed around her. She prayed for her eyes to find their focus, soon.
As she reached up to rub her blurred eyes for the second time, something wrenched her hand away from her face. She looked up and slowly opened her eyes. They still burned, but most of the blur had gone. She saw Isaac. He towered over her, holding her thin wrist within his grasp.
Then he dragged her from the water.
Halfway to the trees, Virginia was able to get back to her feet. She hunched over and propelled her body forward with her feet slapping against the slick mud, while Isaac still tugged at her hand in front of her. Once they were clear of the water and her shoes hit solid ground, she snuggled next to Isaac and Simmons a few yards into the forest.
“Thank you,” she said, glancing up at Isaac, his hand resting on her shoulder.
At first, Isaac didn’t respond, just nodded back toward the swamp. Virginia turned to see two medium sized gators floating soundless on opposite sides of where she had fallen, their eyes scarcely protruding from the water, focused on the group.
“You’re lucky I was crazy enough to go back in there and save you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Isaac responded. "I owed you." He removed his hand from her shoulder and glanced over at Simmons, then back at Virginia. “Now come on.”
The group hurried down the path cut off by the swamp on the opposite side. The thick fog that had taken their vision just a little earlier dissipated. The fog rose from the treetops overhead, treetops that looked to be spreading out and allowing the dark sky to show itself for the first
time. Soft flashes of lightning flickered into the forest, casting mysterious shadows on to the ground. And as the treetops widened, so did the path; it was now at its widest point since the beginning of the trek through the forest, and the group could finally walk side by side.
Minutes later, they stepped past the last tree, ducked underneath a low hanging branch, and one by one gazed across the open land at the stone mansion waiting for their arrival. After fighting their way through the winding forest for over an hour, around thorns and trees, water and weeds, and narrowly sneaking past the kings of the swamp, they had arrived. They were shaken up, dirty, cold, and sopping wet, but somehow they survived.
Somehow, they passed the first test.
4
The stone mansion stood fifty yards away. A giant, much bigger than Isaac imagined, and much more frightening than Virginia remembered. The shape of the mansion formed a perfect rectangle, two stories tall. The dark gray stone almost looked blue under the electric sky. A light fog drifted from the forest, hugged the corners, and rose up the walls. Four tapered windows peered outward like bruised eyes on each half of the manor and two tall circular pillars stood in the center, marking the entrance to the front double doors at the end of the muddy path.
Other than a few patches of grass and weeds left to grow to outrageous heights, little plant life surfaced, just small dirt hills and water holes scattered across the large yard surrounding the mansion. The path to the front entrance, however, was wide open like it was at the edge of the forest. There were no hills to climb over, no gully’s to climb out of, and no weeds to sort through, merely an open path welcoming all who dare travel to the end.
Midway to the entrance, Isaac veered left off the path and jumped down a steep slope of mud and grass into a few inches of water. Virginia and Simmons watched from the path as Isaac wandered away, unsure of where he was going, and unsure if they should follow.
Meanwhile, Isaac walked down the ditch to a large drainage pipe at the edge of the property. He couldn’t believe it was here. The same ditch from Maria Avenue; the ditch the Civic was driven into. This was just the other side. And now he had a sneaking suspicion, and the closer he moved to the large pipe, the more that suspicion appeared to be coming true. He knelt down and placed his hand into a small footprint in the mud then glanced to the left at the tracks continuing up the hill.
“Damn,” he muttered.
Virginia and Simmons approached and peered into the dark tunnel uncovered by steel bars.
“There are footprints in the mud. And they’re coming out of here.” Isaac pointed toward the long, dark pipe. “I think we took the long way. I remember the grate on the other side was bent from the car crashing into it. And, now, what do you know, this side is missing a grate. In other words, that was no accident. He did it on purpose.”
“But how did he know this side was open?” asked Simmons.
“Yesterday afternoon Stevens told me that they had found the deputy’s squad car abandoned somewhere down Maria Avenue. Of course, at the time it meant nothing to me. But this was before she came into the picture,” he said, pointing his finger at Virginia. “Now it makes sense. The maniac was here earlier. He had planned all of this.”
Isaac looked up at the gloomy sky and let the light rain splatter against his face. The storm was reforming, preparing to come back around for a second turn. Then he glanced over the hill at the large stone mansion resting in the distance, still waiting to greet them, waiting for them to come inside. “We’re being led into a trap.”
The group climbed out of the ditch and headed back on to the path at the point they had veered off. As they moved closer to the mansion, the fear of what was to come grew stronger, more definite in each of them.
Virginia had the best knowledge of the large stone mansion, the best insight on the thing they could come face to face with once inside, and it was this knowledge that frightened her. Surely, she would be the one they would look to for guidance. The last thing she wanted was to let Isaac down, to not be there for him if he needed her. Even as her hope faded, nothing, not Lucius, nor her fear of this wretched place would tear her from his side.
Earlier, Isaac was sure he would find his daughter and would somehow be able to save her. But while the night waned on and his thoughts meticulously formed painful knots inside his head, he began doubting his faith. His confidence was at an all time low. He could no longer feel Amy near him, or hear her voice inside his head. He gently brushed his hand across the 9mm in the inner pocket of his long tan coat, hoping tonight he would not have to use it on himself.
And then there was Simmons, the fish out of water. The man thrown into situation he could not grasp. The man given a part he could not play. The man everyone looked down upon and everyone doubted. Daniel Simmons, the man who doubted himself. Something monumental would happen for him at this place, he could feel it. A voice inside urged him to turn back. It told him he wasn’t strong enough—told him he was worthless. But for once, Simmons ignored the voice, and was finally prepared to prove it wrong.
The group came to the entrance of the mansion. At the end of the path, they walked up three stone steps, stood between the tall, circular pillars, and stared at the double doors in front of them. Here they were just a few small steps away from being enclosed within the cold, stone walls, cut off from the world they knew. This could be the point of no return, the point where their lives changed forever. They took a moment to view the world around them, to breathe the air, since each of them knew this could be their last chance.
Isaac cautiously stepped toward the large double doors, waiting, as though he expected them to open on their own, and focused his eyes on the double brass handles. He leaned toward the right handle and felt the bitter, aged brass between his fingers. He let his hand rest upon the brass until the icy chill swept over, and then gripped the handle tighter. But as he built the courage to turn the cold brass, the door cracked open.
Isaac let go of the handle and watched the door rock back and forth on squeaky hinges. He tilted his head and looked through the inch wide crack in the door but couldn’t see anything inside, only dense, black space. Virginia and Simmons crept closer and stood behind Isaac. He turned toward them, raising his eyebrows, then laid his hand flat against the door and pushed it in.
The heavy wooden door swung open, aching as it stretched its joints, and stopped just before hitting the inner wall. Isaac took a small step forward and stood in the doorway, peering down the dark corridor. A faint light flickered from around the left corner. The glow of the light was not constant but increased and decreased at random, casting odd shapes and patterns on to the right wall of the corridor.
The group passed through the doorway and headed down the dark corridor to the lighted room at the end. No one closed the door; it felt safer to keep it open. Isaac immediately noticed how much colder it was inside the mansion than outside in the wind and rain. The air was frigid and damp, and smelled of old things, old times; a smell that only takes form after ages of isolation and in places of great, forgotten memory. This dark place had a story to tell, and it would tell the story to anyone willing to listen. It didn’t matter if the story was enjoyed, only that it was given the attention it deserved.
The lighted room at the end of the hall was just big enough to hold a small wooden table in the center with two chairs nestled beneath. An antique lantern burned in the middle of the table, a small key next to it. Warm, thoughtful gifts from the illusionist. The soft flame from the lamp emitted the only light in the room, and although it wasn’t much, the flame was better than no light at all.
A thin, empty bookshelf hung at eyelevel on the inner wall with layers of old dust resting atop. A small fireplace in the far left corner of the room acted as a median between two doors. One door continued straight ahead from the entranceway. The other door exited from the left, on the other side of the lamp and table.
Virginia pocketed the key first, and then picked up the lantern and held it up
in front of her. The lamp was about half full. She figured they probably had a few hours left before the flame would die, and hopefully in two hours time, they would be far away from this place.
“Who wants to hold it?” she asked. Isaac and Simmons looked over at each other without saying a word, and then turned back toward Virginia. “Okay, I guess I will.”
Isaac walked over to the fireplace and knelt down in front of it. A slight amount of ash was still present at the bottom of the cavity, scraps from a fire that had probably burned over a century ago. As he leaned closer, he noticed an object lying toward the rear of the fireplace. “Can you shine the light over here?” Virginia walked from behind the wooden table holding the lantern with both hands and stood behind Isaac. “Shine it down there,” he said, pointing to the dark hole in the wall.
Virginia leaned over, held the light just over the fireplace, while Isaac reached toward the object in the back. “What is it?” she asked.
“It’s our old friend,” Isaac said, pulling the small stone statue from the fireplace. He brushed the dust off with his hand then held it over his shoulder for the others to see.
Virginia set the lantern back down on the table and reached out her hand. “Can I see it?”
The cloaked figure sat in her palm looking up at her with its hands outstretched. This was the first time Virginia had seen the statue in any other form than a picture, and now as she held it in her hand, the thing they were up against seemed that much more unreal.
“Should we take it with us?” asked Isaac.
“Maybe we could somehow get him back inside of it,” said Simmons. “The spirit, I mean.”
Virginia shook her head and handed the statue back to Isaac. “Not likely,” she said. “Lucius was never inside of it. He’s a part of another world. The statue was probably a gateway, but I doubt there is anything we could do to force him back through.”
The Gift of Illusion: A Thriller Page 17
