A tidbit from Dreamdarkers…

We paused briefly at the edge of the house facing Kingswell Lake, which along with the shore spread out in front of the old hotel like carpets, one green and sloping gently to the water’s edge where the second, blue and vivid, stretched out like glass covered by the calm ripples of a windless day.  Hot air encompassed us, yet the summer haze I so often hated in Dallas did not penetrate the surrounding wilderness.  In its place, clean space transparent to the eye rested comfortably across the land and water.  I could see individual trees on the opposite shore, yet I was unable to identify the species of all but the conifers, most of which I knew to be pine.  East Texas’ second growth ensured a predictable spread and the tall, pointed shape of the evergreens stood unmistakably contrasted by the hickory and various oaks that made up a significant portion of the woodlands.  Behind the foliage-laden edge of the lake rested hills burning in the summer sun like ember fires, their green brightly illuminated and welcoming of the torrid simmering even while we humans and our canine companions begged for relief.  On any other day under any other circumstances, I would have proclaimed it an expectedly uncomfortable yet stunningly beautiful July day in Kingswell.  Albeit hot, one could not deny the splendid view painted across the landscape.

Unfortunately, it all seemed a false image given what I knew.  Somewhere to the east, a devilish storm brewed and came for us, and whatever respite Carr Beholden and its backdrop could offer would undoubtedly be short-lived.  Whether minutes or hours if one was to believe the news, I knew our time was quite limited.  The arrival of the inexplicable weather phenomenon, I thought, will only herald some greater darkness.  Is there a link between the nightmares and the storms?  Is the loss of our communication abilities an intentional act or only a coincidence?  What is coming with the black tempests?  What rides on the backs of such peculiarities capable of moving against the wind?  I feared the answers even as I pondered the questions.  If Beth’s grandmother was right, and if Beth’s belief in her had been just, even if such faith remained hidden in some secret place she publicly denied, I knew the Dreamdarkers would soon be among us.  “They would come with the storms,” she told me of her crazy old guardian’s warnings.  I tried to shrug off the depressing thoughts.  Without answers and information, all I could do was guess.  That supplied no useful purpose; instead, it would dispirit my outlook and engender greater fear than I already felt.  Basing my assumptions on stories of a lunatic grandmother hell-bent on shaping her young charge with old wives’ tales would only serve to drive me further toward insanity.  And I wondered if there remained any room betwixt that fateful place and me.  Some would say I already lived there.