Dastardly Bastard(24)

Lyle and Marsha moved back toward them, coming back up the pathway.

“How did you get behind us?” Justine asked.

“I-I don’t know. The last thing I remember, I was chasing Lyle.” Marsha looked befuddled, as if she would cry or laugh, or both.

Justine felt as though she could do the same at that moment.

Trevor bent over and picked up a loose rock.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying something.” Trevor reared back and threw the rock at the spot where Lyle and Marsha had disappeared.

The rock hit the ground twenty feet ahead of them and rolled, finally coming to rest another ten feet further up the trail.

Trevor shrugged. “Seems to be all right now.”

Marsha grabbed her son’s hand. “I don’t like this. I really, really don’t like this. Come on, Lyle. We’re getting out of here.”

A total of five steps. That was as far as Lyle and Marsha made it before they vanished into thin air.

Same scene as before. First they were there, then they weren’t. Justine could feel her head spinning, gears working overtime trying to make sense of the insanity. Out of instinct, she turned around.

And found Marsha and Lyle at the outcropping once again.

“This is crazy,” Jaleel said.

Trevor said, “But the rock went through. We all saw it. Right?”

“You guys wait there!” Jaleel called to Lyle and Marsha.

“What are you thinking?” Justine asked, following the tour guide as he began walking toward the beginning of the trail.

“I’m thinking I want to see this for myself. Hang back with him.” Jaleel pointed at Trevor.

The tour guide didn’t even make it five steps. Justine couldn’t be sure, but maybe he’d made it three. The distance to disappearing range seemed to have grown shorter.

“Look,” Trevor said.

Justine turned and saw Jaleel standing at the outcropping with Marsha and Lyle. “That isn’t possible.” Those words had become a mantra of sorts.

Justine spun back and slowly walked forward with her left arm outstretched. When she had gone three steps, her arm disappeared at the elbow.

“That’s nuts!” Lyle yelled from the outcropping.

Justine kept her arm where it was, and looked over her shoulder. She saw Lyle touching a brown-skinned hand that jutted from the rock face. “I can feel that!”

“Come on.” Trevor grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the space.

Her ears popped.

And then she was staring at the backs of the rest of the group.

Justine whispered, “My God.”

“It’s like we’re teleporting, but just going in circles. Weird.” Lyle began walking back toward the disappearing point, but his mother grabbed his forearm and yanked him back.

“No! No, you don’t. You stay right here.” The mother looked frazzled. Justine could see her breaking. “Nobody else goes any-damn-where. You got me? We just stay right here. We call for help. We—”

“Our phones don’t have any signal. We can’t call anyone,” Trevor said.

“Lyle, where’s your phone?” Jaleel asked.

“Mom?” The boy looked at his mother, then glanced down at her white-knuckle grip on his arm. “I need to get my phone.” He pointed with his free hand. “I dropped it right there.”

“And that’s all you do. You understand? You pick it up, and you come right back here. You know what? Never mind. I’ll get the damn thing. I’ll get it, and I’ll call… call somebody… because we… we need… we need…”

Trevor sighed. “Houston, she’s lost it.”

Marsha crumbled. She collapsed back onto the rock face and screamed, just bellowed her soul right out into the world. Sounds of torment, frustration, and terror exploded from her. She let go of Lyle in the process, and the boy snatched his phone up off the ground.

Justine felt terrible for Marsha, but she was at a loss for what she could do. When she approached the woman, Marsha held up a hand.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Marsha trembled, as if each word caused her a great deal of pain.

“Do you have a phone signal, Lyle?” Jaleel asked.

Lyle frowned. “Lemme see.”

The boy looked down at the screen of his cell phone, and his jaw fell open. “Forty-three new messages?”

“Damn, kid. Are you that popular?” Trevor asked.

“What is it?” Justine slid over beside him to get a better look at the phone. “You have that many voicemails?”

“No.” Lyle slid the bar to unlock the phone. “Somebody sent me some pictures.”





20


THE SENSE THAT HE WAS falling, spiraling out of control, began to fade along with that feeling of impending collision. Mark’s body slowed, finally coming to a complete stop. The cool air that had been whistling by his ears during his plummet ceased. His body upended, and his feet moved under him until he was upright. Mark saw nothing. He was surrounded by total darkness.

“Hello?” The sound from his mouth seemed to end all too soon, dying just inches from his face. A low thrumming built in his ears. He realized he was hearing his own blood as it moved through his head. The inky black was that quiet.