13

  The dense and seemingly endless burg of a forest made Dean uneasy as he slowly guided his patrol car down the well traversed dirt pathway leading to Lake Hestova. A bitter stench clung to the heavy air which permeated the car even through the closed windows. It was the odor of something old and unearthly, something out of place and out of time. He thought about the gun resting in its holster on his hip and whether or not he would need to use it, if it would even be effective.

  Rufus, now looking like the frightened old man he was, sat quietly in the passenger seat. He scratched incessantly at his arm as if bugs were crawling under his skin; his nerves seemed to be reaching their breaking point. His bright blue eyes danced in their sockets, taking in every detail of the forest and straining to see the faintest shimmer of moonlight on the still lake. A heavy wind had come up, fiercely rustling the trees and creating shadowy shapes that almost seemed to leap out of the darkened forest at the car, causing both men to occasionally jump with fright. Night had fallen shortly after they left the Francis home, plunging the forest into a peaceful darkness that would have felt bucolic at any other time.

  The silence was beginning to make Dean more anxious, so he broke it by asking, “What all do you really know? About all of… this.” He made a vague gesture with his hand towards the forest ahead of them.

  The old man let out a deep breath and said, “More than you’d ever want to know.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Son, you’re askin’ a question that you ain’t even close to understandin’. At least not yet. I find that when one is askin’ a question that they ain’t even sure of, they don’t tend to like the answer.”

  Dean furrowed his brow and stared at the road, unsatisfied but reluctant to press further.

  “I’ll tell you this though; no matter what happens, we need to stop what’s goin on at this lake or be damned, in this life and the next. There’s nothin’ Christian about any of it.”

  The thicket of trees thinned as they approached the lake, still only partially visible through the forestry. As they rounded a curve in the road, Rufus looked through the tree line and saw a figure standing on the edge of the southern dock. “There he is, at the end of the dock! Quick now, we got to hurry!”

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  Dean sped up and took a sharp turn around the curve. The car would have almost surely tipped over had the two men not braced and leaned against it. He parked his cruiser at the end of the path, right up against the base of the small staircase that led up to the dock. He got out of the police cruiser quickly, not even bothering to close the door. Rufus was slower getting out and almost stumbled to the ground. Dean rushed over and helped the old man up, who fumbled about the officer’s waist and hands in an awkward attempt to grab them and pull himself up. When he got the man standing the officer raced up the dock, throwing up clouds of dirt with his heels as he ran. Fear filled his heart and a cold, black terror spread through his veins. Dean was afraid, not just for Andrew, but for himself and the rest of the town. He had no idea what was happening or why, he just hoped he arrived soon enough to stop it.

  When Dean was halfway across the pier, he shuddered at the picturesque sight that splayed itself out before him. Andrew stood at the end of the pier with his head raised towards the sky, looking at the brilliant pale moon that hung directly overhead, surrounded by the blues, reds, and purples of the ever-expanding cosmos. It looked so close that he almost thought he could reach out and touch it. The image reflected in the still waters below was similar, but not entirely identical. The sky reflected in the water was much more vibrant, revealing swirling purple nebulas, stars, and planets the size of stars. Dark and unidentifiable forms waded through the astronomical sea, swirling around and through planets, some just blinking out of existence entirely

  A feeling that was a queer mixture of awe and terror spread Dean like some terrible warmth. The magnificent world reflected in the waters of the lake was no reflection at all, but a surreal image of some cosmic wonder vigintillions of miles away. Incomprehension, confusion, and a guttural, primal fear compelled the officer to scream for his friend, “Andrew!” The strength of the wind and the ethereal alien view quieted his words and kept the other officer enthralled. “ANDREW!” he called louder, though still no sound broke through the rising pandemonium. He cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed, “ANDRE-”

  The sound of a single gunshot was enough to finally pierce through the screeching winds. Andrew blinked twice as his gaze fell from the brilliant moon overhead and he looked behind him. His friend, Dean Laherty, was standing further back on the pier. Had he been calling his name? He thought he had heard something that sounded like it while he was in some sort of dream-like state.

  All of the air had left Dean’s lungs. He looked down and saw the dark hole in his shirt, which soon vanished beneath a growing red stain. He felt no pain, only a dull, cold, throbbing in his chest. The wind had stopped and everything surrounding the lake fell silent. Dean slowly raised a hand to his wet chest and looked up at the pale moon. Five yellow lights had appeared on its surface, curling around the lower half of its curvature. He did not truly know what his eyes rested on, but it gave him some sort of warmth. A smile spread across Dean’s face as he let out his final breath.

  A scream escaped from Andrew’s lips as he rushed down the dock to his fallen friend, but no sound reached his ears.