Bryan Davis - Nightmares Edge

ECHOES FROM THE EDGE

NIGHTMARES EDGE

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ECHOES FROM THE EDGE

NIGHTMARES EDGE

Nathan ducked under a low-hanging branch and pushed a dangling python out of the way with his bandaged hand. The snake hissed, startling him for a moment. With its beady eyes and flicking tongue, it seemed real, as tangible as everything else in this dim, dream-fueled jungle.

Just ahead on the narrow path, Cerulean paid no attention. After all, in the realm of dreams, even the forest was imaginary. To Nathan, however, all the details from the thick, green foliage of overarching trees darkening their steps to the high humidity dampening his armpits painted a three-dimensional landscape that felt as real as it looked.

Wiping his brow with a sleeve, Nathan pulled off the gray Iowa sweatshirt he had borrowed from Nathan of Earth Blue and tied the sleeves around his waist. Nathan Blue wouldnt need the shirt back, since not long ago the murderous vision stalker Mictar had burned his eyes out with a life-absorbing touch.

Nathan peered into the murky jungle. Who could tell if that killer now stalked this dream world, ready to leap out from behind one of the tropical trees and repeat the attack? And a more immediate problem with just a slender candle in Ceruleans grip lighting their way, how could two awake people find another one of their kind in this enormous, dark land?

He hurried to catch up with Cerulean, Earth Blues supplicant from the misty world. Keeping his eyes focused straight ahead and the white candle from Earth Blue held out in front, Cerulean stayed quiet. Only the swishing sound of his dark blue shirt and matching trousers made any sound at all. Nothing seemed to faze him, even the images conjured by frightened sleepers. Earlier, he had ignored the twelve talking chipmunks dressed in purple tuxedos. They had been funny at first, chattering about their political ambitions and the proper way to shave an elephant, but when a six-foot-tall electric razor buzzed into view, Nathan dove out of the way. The razor flew past, chasing a three-headed elephant into the forest. Cerulean merely helped him back to his feet and pressed on without a hint of a smile. He seemed unflappable.

So, Nathan said as they marched past an old man wrapped in golden chains who was floundering in a quicksand bog, this dream world really isnt all that dangerous once you get used to it. Why did you insist on just the two of us coming? Whats the risk?

Cerulean replied in a calm tone. Not everything is a dream. Jack is here somewhere, is he not?

True. But what other things could enter this world? No one else knows how to get here in the real world. Even you had to get Kelly to go to sleep to create a portal.

When there are no wounds in the cosmic fabric, the dream world can be penetrated only by a supplicant or through a persons sleeping mind. With interfinity at hand, however, and many holes throughout the cross-dimensional plane, I suspect that passages abound.

How can you tell the difference? Nathan asked. I mean, if that poor guy in the quicksand was real, shouldnt we try to rescue him?

Cerulean smiled, finally breaking his stoic countenance. As the elephant has taught you, dreams are as real as you allow them to be. Once you train your mind, you will see through them. The imagined elements in the dreamscape are transparent and whatever is left is reality.

Nathan glanced around again. Anything real here besides people?

A few things stay whether someone is dreaming or not. Cerulean nodded at a bent, leafless tree in the distance, illuminated by the dreamscapes ambient light. Draped with long, hanging vines, it looked like a cross between a live oak and a tropical species from a dense rain forest. Yet, without even the smallest leaf dressing its crooked branches, it seemed frozen in winter dormancy.

For example, Cerulean continued, it is best to avoid the spider trees.

While Nathan eyed the tree, Cerulean pressed on. Come. Kellys dream has now formed in her mind. Since she sleeps at the edge of a cosmic wound, her vision will be the best place to look for Jack.

Nathan followed Ceruleans lively pace. Whose dream are we in now? Nathan asked.

A mixture of several. As Cerulean passed by a leafy vine that hung from a branch, he gave it a shove, making it swing. Dreams about jungles are often created by souls who feel lost. They struggle through vines, snakes, quicksand, and many other obstacles of their own making, thus illustrating their lives of desperation. When I saw this vision, I thought it would make sense to search for Jack here while we waited for Kelly to dream. Even though he is blind, Jack might have found his way to this place of troubled thoughts.

Sounds reasonable, Nathan said, at least as dreams go.