Nick handed her phone back. “Who knows? You saw the paper. The man was institutionalized, locked in a secure room. I doubt we could ever uncover his motives. Perkins was insane. Maybe that’s why he injected two fatal doses of pentobarbital.”
“He put himself to sleep,” Nann mused. “Like a sick dog. And he was summoning dream creatures. It almost makes sense.”
“Dream logic,” Nick agreed.
“Okay, so Arthur Perkins summoned Somniumites because he was nuts. What can we do about it? The whole town is infected. And it’s spreading. All I know about them is that they’re big, gross-looking bugs, and they die in the sunlight.”
Nick frowned, impressed. “How do you know that much?”
Nann explained her ceremony, the disgusting things trapped in an upturned vase. She thought he would give her the crazy look.
“You have—how does my daughter put it? —mad skills, Nann.”
“Thanks. But that doesn’t solve the real problem. I can’t make bug traps for everyone in town.”
“It would be better to trap all of them in the sunlight at once,” Nick said.
Nann thought it over. “Find out where they spend the day and hit them with big lights?”
“They spend the day in another dimension,” Nick said. “So no. What we need to do is close the gateway.”
“Close the what?”
Nick grabbed the big square chart. “Obviously, Perkins found a way to crack open the Twih just enough to summon the Somniumites.”
“Obviously...”
“They must return to the Twih before daylight or die. It’s just a matter of eliminating their route home. I have a... friend who can close the gateway from the other side. But there’s no way of knowing how long that might take. Time runs differently in the Twih.”
Blah blah crazy talk. “Do we know where this gate thing is?”
“Given the proximity, I’d have to say that small cave behind the dog shelter.”
Nann was thinking the same thing. That was just the kind of place the disgusting bugs would go. She thought about the stakes surrounding the hole. Were they there for a warning, or something else? Before she could think further, she was startled by a sound of baying.
“Oh no, the dogs! They’re still around.”
“Dogs? Wouldn’t the county’s animal control have removed them?” Nick’s eyes moved quickly to the room’s windows. Nann thought he looked nervous.
“Maybe they got some of them. But the only reason I found this place is because my mailman was attacked by dogs out here. A pack of them, he said. He’s called the sheriff a bunch of times.”
“A pack?” Nick’s whisper sounded sharp in the room. Color drained from his features.
“What’s the problem? Can’t you just shoop yourself out of here like you did outside my store?” Which would leave Nann to deal with the dogs on her own.
“Not with the Somniumites so close. I might lose my way.” He swallowed. “Dogs don’t like me.”
“Because you’re a Prete?” Nann asked.
“A what?”
“Never mind. Let’s just get out of here.” Nann led the way down the hall, hurrying and trying not to be too loud at the same time. As they reached the stairs, she heard a creak and a flap. She stopped short. Nick looked a question at her.
“Dog door,” she whispered. “We need to go out the front door.”
They heard sniffing, and toenails on the linoleum of the mudroom. Outside, barks and growls mingled with more distant howls. Lots of dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. Again, the dog door thumped and rocked on a squeaky hinge. And again. Nann tiptoed toward the stairs. Don’t panic, she thought. Don’t panic.
And then she didn’t need to panic. Nick O’Broin did it for her. He gripped her shoulder from behind.
“Run!”
They thundered down the loud stairs and into the living room. Dogs lurched in from the mudroom, a rottweiler, a Doberman, and a toy poodle. Their paws skidded to a halt on the hardwood floors at the sight of the fleeing humans. Barking, gaining traction, they charged.
Fear powered Nann’s feet and she hit the front door, praying it wasn’t locked or barred or nailed shut, and then the front steps. Cricket was a much shorter run from here than all the way around the back. But other pack members loped in from all sides.
“I wish Echo was here,” he gasped.
“Echo?” Nann was falling behind.
“My niece. She has a way with animals.”
Nick, with longer legs, outpaced her, racing for the car. Man, he really was afraid of dogs. Unfortunately for him, a hundred pounds of black, tan and white Bernese mountain dog loped from behind Cricket on three legs. The two of them crashed together and went down in a tangle. The big dog yiped, took a bite out of Nick’s leg, and hobbled away into the woods, whining and even more limpy.
“Bleeding.” Nick pulled himself up and levered into the car. Nann got in on the other side. Cricket had already started her engine. Her door was closed when a German shepherd slammed into it. The window was all claws and fangs as the animal barked at her.
“How bad are you hurt? I think you sat on that dog’s head,” Nann said.
Dogs surrounded Cricket, leaping at the windows, barking and slobbering all over the glass. The small car rocked. Nick hiked his torn pant leg. Nann stared. A rainbow mist rose from a meaty gash. It had sparkles in it.
“You’re bleeding,” Nann guessed. Oh. My. Gawdess. Maybe his crazy dominion talk wasn’t so crazy. “Put direct pressure on it.” Right? Maybe? What the heck?
Nick gripped the leg, the pretty mist rising from between his fingers. The car was filling with it. Nann wasn’t sure whether to be grossed out or not. “Get me away from the hive. I need to transverse to the Twih, but I can’t do it from...”
He went limp, slumping over the seat onto Nann’s shoulder. The tall man barely fit in the car as it was. Nann tried to push him off of her. Outside, the dogs went crazy. Maybe it was the pretty blood.
The pack’s effort shoved the car around on the dirt driveway. Nann clutched and put it in reverse. There were dogs behind her. She really didn’t want to run over a dog. They were innocent creatures. And, heck, some of them were so big, they might not even notice if Cricket ran them over.
She backed slowly, slowly. The rottweiler from the mud room jumped up. She heard the tear of the canopy as it sunk its teeth in. In front, the shepherd and the Doberman worried the front bumper. The realization that Cricket herself was a kind of Prete hit her. A Prete with a Prete inside bleeding Prete blood. A cold fear sliced through her. It wouldn’t take the dogs long to tear her car apart.
Chapter 21
“Leave Cricket alone!” she shouted. Cricket joined in, beeping the door locks, honking the horn, sounding the burglar alarm. The canines carried on, unfazed. The rottweiler tore more of the canopy. Nann felt the Jimny lurch and list toward the passenger side. One of the dogs had eaten her front right tire.
Nann waved away the rainbow mist. She could call for help on her cell phone, but would it arrive in time? In the rearview mirror, she saw a fanged mouth trying to bite through one of the plastic windows. Nope. No one would arrive in time. At least ten dogs swarmed in, trying to take a bite out of Cricket, dobies, shepherds, a couple pit bulls.
They were just dogs, for crying out loud, household pets at some point. She remembered Nick’s comment about abuse histories. Maybe these dogs were out for justice as well as blood. Neither Nann nor the canines were guilty of anything. Still, she was available, and the dogs were pissed.
“What do I do?” She looked at Nick. His head lolled against the passenger window behind the colorful mist, face the color of newsprint. He wouldn’t be any help. Nann turned, looking out the back. Dogs ran behind her, jumping up on Cricket. She reversed anyway. The front of the car swiveled back and forth as the animals chomped on the bumper in a tug-o-war.
Even as the car rocked, something was dislodged from the back corner. The Snak-Y-Ball rolled aro
und the compartment. Pokey hadn’t been interested. Could she distract the dogs with it? As the car listed and bumped, the ball banged into the bag of pig chow. Pokey hadn’t been interested in that, either. Maybe the dogs were just hungry. Would they eat pig chow? Her limited experience with dogs told her that dogs would eat anything.
The Bernese mountain dog ripped open the tarp enough to get its fanged snout inside. She had to try something. Setting the emergency brake, she squeezed between the seats and opened the Snak-Y-Ball. Would the distraction of food be enough for her to get away? She needed something better. But what? A bunch of cats or squirrels appearing from nowhere would be good. Or someone might randomly blow a dog whistle.
Nann only had what she had. Grabbing the pig chow, she tore the bag open. Dust rose, along with a very unique smell. Nann’s sinuses acted up, and her breath hitched to sneeze.
But the sneeze was stopped by an idea.
She grabbed her conjure bag and dug in. Benadryl. Dogs could take Benadryl. It would make them sleepy. Could it possibly work? If it did work, would it be in time? How long did it take Benadryl to get going, a half hour? That was too long. The car rose up on the driver side. Nann dropped everything to hold on. Was her car so small that a pack of dogs could tip it over?
It landed back on its wheels. She could no longer see out the windows. The view was solidly fur. The poodle made it onto the hood, barking and growling at her through the windshield.
Nann jammed a couple pills in a nugget of pig chow. It was moist enough to stay together. Working as quickly as she could, she dosed the little logs of food and dropped them in the hemisphere of the open Snak-Y-Ball. Nick let out a gasp, breathing sounding labored. She sped up, dropping chow and pills all over the back compartment. No matter. It seemed to take forever, but she finally had the bottom filled. She closed the top. A nugget fell out through one of the holes.
Half-laying in the back compartment, she shoved the Snak-Y-Ball through the rip made by the mountain dog. It only took a couple seconds, because dogs were smart, for them to start fighting over the ball. She saw three dogs tearing at it. More dogs followed, snatching pig chow nuggets off the ground.
Okay, maybe they weren’t looking drowsy yet. Still, they moved away from behind her. Nann tried to jam her foot on the accelerator. Cricket was having none of that. Instead, the car slowly backed up, wobbling from the missing tire.
Several dogs barked and gave chase. But the lure of food was too powerful. They ran off to chase the ball. Of course they were hungry, Nann thought. They were starving. Perkins died a whole week ago. “Enjoy,” she said.
Cricket continued backward on her wobbly course. The driveway was long, and the damaged car moved at what felt like inches per hour. Nick, though unconscious, still gripped the bite wound on his leg. Pretty, misty blood seeped through the holes put in her car.
Nann sure hoped that getting Nick away from the house, from the Somniumites’ cave, would do something. Otherwise, it would be a really long ride to the nearest help. It took ten minutes to back up all the way to the road. Nick didn’t stir.
What now? Nann grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911. Nick groaned before she could push send.
“Nick! You’re bleeding. You’ve gotta wake up and do... do the thing. Nick!”
His eyes opened but took a moment to focus. He took his hand from the torn leg. Bright colors swirled from the wound. His other hand gripped Nann’s shoulder. “This might be a little rough. I’m very weak. Close your eyes, and don’t open them until you hear the dogs again.”
“What?”
“When you get back, you must close the gateway from this side.”
Nann shook her head. “I don’t know how.”
“You have mad skills.” Nick’s smile was weak. “Close your eyes. And then close the gate.”
Nick closed his eyes, but Nann didn’t close hers. Which was a mistake.
The misty spectrum of Nick’s weird blood shifted hues until Cricket was filled with a piercing white light. Okay, she should’ve closed her eyes. But when the light faded, there was far more reason not to look.
Nann sat on a fallen log. Nick was nowhere in sight. No longer was she on Old State Road. She peered around a dusky forest. Not the woods she drove in through, she thought. There was something really odd—
A furry hippopotamus wandered into the clearing. It gave her a disinterested glance before heading through a thicket of what looked like fallen flower petals, piles and piles of orange petals. Branches rattled above her. Nann could neither hear nor feel the wind. Gazing up, she saw no branches, either. A vast network of what looked like roots moved of their own accord. Little sparks of light danced between the trees. Nann got the impression of nerve endings in a brain, sending signals.
Her brain froze in terror. Where the hell was she?
A crash through the petal piles made her whirl. Moving toward her was a seven-foot figure, covered in woolly fur, a rack of mountain goat horns on its head. Glowing eyes took her in. The creature smiled with sharp teeth.
“Hey, babe. You sure don’t belong here,” the creature said. He gave her the up-and-down. “I love a chick in a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. You got a good tan going.”
The thing moved closer on hooved feet. Nann opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“I know, I know, you’d love to stay and flirt. But something about you is messing with the atmosphere around the Arcadian Portal. Plus, I smell Nick O’Broin all over you. He’s engaged, y’know, whereas I am a widower. Makes me seem sympathetic, right? Much better than divorced.”
Nann’s mouth fell open a little more.
“Okay, back you go. I hope we might hook up some other time.” He waved clawed fingers at her. “Toodles.”
And she was sitting inside Cricket again. Nann gripped the wheel in an effort to stem the shaking in her hands. What was that?
Stress, she thought. It must be stress. Except Nick wasn’t in the car, nor was the misty blood. The holes were still there, and Cricket still leaned funny. Nann got out. The front right tire was missing from the rim. Boy, those dogs must’ve been hungry.
At the thought of dogs, she jerked upright, staring up the wooded driveway. She didn’t hear baying or barking, no growling or howling. Close the gate. She recalled Nick’s words. That really didn’t motivate her enough to face a pack of starved dogs. Nann knew she had to stop the Somniumites. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to do it.
Glints of red and blue reflected in Cricket’s slobber-smeared windows. Nann faced the sound of an engine. A police SUV approached. Nann’s heart soared as Deputy Keith Schwenk stepped out of the vehicle.
“I got a lot of reports about a pack of wild dogs. You know anything about that?”
Her answer probably surprised him. Nann threw herself into his arms.
Chapter 22
She had to tell him, didn’t she? How else could Nann get Keith to help her?
“What the heck did you do?” The deputy shined the mounted spotlight around, picking out dogs slumbering all over the yard.
“I fed them pig chow laced with Benadryl.”
Keith continued up the driveway, swerving around an unconscious animal. “Sure will make it easier for Animal Control. We’ve been trying to find these dogs for a week.”
They drove up to the house in the black-and-white. The headlights shifted shadows, making the place look even spookier.
“Do you know whose house this is?”
Nann nodded. “Arthur Perkins. The man who died at the pet adoption event.”
“You wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”
“If I did, you’d think I was crazy.”
Keith gave her a look. “You know, Nann, since we’ve met, I’ve seen people trying to dance themselves to death, I’ve heard a pig speak, I’ve witnessed murder by voodoo doll, and a bunch of monsters trespassing on your property. I’m a trained observer. I observe. Most of the time I don’t believe what I’ve observed, but there you h
ave it.”
“What?” All this time, Nann thought she was hiding all the crazy magic from the deputy.
He shrugged. “It is what it is. This town’s always been full of really weird happenings. You just gotta roll with it.”
Nann shrugged back. “Okay, then. This recent crime wave of assaults and domestics, the murder confessions, maybe even Artur Perkins’ suicide were all because of dreams.”
“Yeah, that’s what the doers have been telling me.”
“Except, the dreams don’t belong to the dreamers.”
Keith put the SUV in park. “Come again?”
“The dreams that make people do bad things, they’re from... Call it an outside source.”
“That’s really vague.”
“Trying not to drive the short bus all the way to Crazy Town, here.”
“So, something is giving people bad dreams, infecting them?” Keith stuck out his lower lip, eyes going distant. “It makes a crazy kind of sense. Nearly all the people I’ve arrested, well, let’s say they’ve all gone really outside their normal behaviors.”
“I have to stop it. I’m the only one who knows.” Nann shrugged. “I could use some help.”
“Help to do what?”
“I don’t know yet.” Nann got out of the vehicle.
Keith followed suit. “That’s also really vague.”
“But the truth. C’mon.” Nann led the way into the dog shelter. The two of them wound around the dog beds to the back door. She pointed out the cave. “The dreams, they’re coming from there. We need to block that hole before sunrise.”
Keith took his big flashlight out and crouched over the cave. Nann winced as he got close. “Well, it’s not very big, but it sure is deep. Probably need an earth mover to really fill it. Maybe cap it with a concrete plug.”
“There’s no time for that.”
He switched off the light and stood up. “Why not?”
“Because the dream-thingies, the sunlight kills them. If we stop them from getting back to their home, we won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
A Witch Axe to Grind Page 10
