Richard jumped to his feet and slammed both fists on the island counter. A cup and saucer rattled.
Tick, tick, tick.
He saw them hovering in the hall. Tyr and Odin stood at the lead of a line of dogs crowded together, their eyes focused on him.
Per the Old Man's instructions, Rich had cleaned himself up and collapsed on the living room sofa for a night of surprisingly restful sleep, and then raided the commercial-grade coolers and pantry for food.
Of course, he realized the second gift but did not know how to use it. He could…he could… sense them thinking. Not voices, not quite. Images, but not pictures. More like feelings.
That strange key lay on the counter, exactly where he had left it upon returning from the basement earlier that afternoon. Richard grabbed it and faced the window over the sink. He caressed the key between thumb and forefinger.
Now this. The thing in the basement. No, beneath the basement. The key led to a place much deeper than any man's cellar. Down there, behind the cabinet next to the water heater in a tiny room waited a door that Richard opened with a key meant only for him.
What he found down there had been bright and painful, sort of. It caused him to feel lightheaded and he still did not know its purpose. He wondered if he had retreated too quickly. Perhaps he needed to do something. Push a switch? A chant? A magic spell? A- 'WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?'
He yelled to no one. The dogs shifted uneasily but remained focused on him. Waiting.
A small songbird raced by the window, chirping farewell to the day. A subtle wind swayed branches.
Tick, tick, tick.
Richard stuffed the key into a pocket in the navy blue sweat pants he wore with a matching sweat jacket. The clothes came from a gargantuan closet filled with outfits in his size, even though the man in the pictures above the mantle appeared fifty pounds heavier and half a foot taller.
After taking a deep breath, he faced the dogs.
'What do you want from me?'
We are yours to command.
The answer did not come in words; it came in some other manner that his mind translated into language. It did not come from their mouths, for their jaws did not move; they made no sounds.
'How is it you know what I'm saying?'
We are yours to command.
'How can I hear you? I don't hear your voice. Am I reading your mind? Are you reading my mind?'
No answer.
He stepped closer and thought 'sit.'
The dogs did nothing.
He spoke aloud, 'Sit.'
The dogs did nothing.
He closed his eyes and pictured the dogs sitting. He opened his eyes and saw that, once again, they had done nothing. He tried again. He summoned the image of a dog sitting and, at the same time, called, 'Sit.'
All the dogs in the hall sat. They sat fast and perfect, as if snapping to attention. The cumulative sound of so many canine rumps hitting the floor created a solid thump.
'I have to speak. You have to hear my voice. But it's more than that, isn't it? Something in the eye contact; something in my vocal cords, and my thoughts. Something in the combination, brain waves and vocal cords or something. I dunno. Maybe…maybe it's like ultraviolet light. Yeah, I mean, some light has shorter wavelengths then visible light and people can't see it. But bumblebees can see ultraviolet light. Amazing. Must be something like…like…'
Richard cocked his head to one side.
'How the hell do I know that?'
The lightheadedness returned. He snapped his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while the other steadied himself against the kitchen island. He saw a laboratory and men wearing goggles working near a big tube of mercury vapors as they prepared to activate an electric current that would artificially generate UV rays.
Not a dream… memories.
He found his balance but his body shook; it shook from fear. Basic fear much as he had felt when confronting the thing that killed his parents. Except this time, he felt no fight instinct only flight: the urge to escape.
'This is a mistake. Do you hear me? This is for someone else, not me!'
He strode directly at the mass of dogs. They parted, making way for their master.
We are yours to command.
'I don't want to command! There's been a mistake!'
Like a spine, the hall ran the length of the mansion from back to front and Richard walked it at a fast clip. He passed the first floor guestroom, the den, the dining room, the front stairs leading to the second floor, and the living room with the big fireplace. He exited the front door, crossed the porch, and plod over the lawn. He marched for the main gate. The dogs followed in two columns.
Last night, when he arrived, he left the gate open because he did not know how to close it. As he walked through this time, he remembered that two keypads-one on each side of the fence-could open and close the gate with the correct entry code; a code he now remembered. Where those memories came from presented a bigger question, but a question he no longer cared to have answered. Or, rather, he feared the answer.
What is happening to me?
Fully gassed cars, motorbikes, and more waited in the garage, but Richard wanted nothing to do with any of it. He did not want the three gifts. He would leave the same way he had arrived: on foot.
At the first bend in the road, he came upon a white and blue Harveys Lake police cruiser idling on the shoulder near a lakeside boathouse. Static crackled from the radio therein.
'Hello! Police!'
Richard sighed in relief as a uniformed policeman rose from the far side of the car. And kept rising.
The policeman rose ten feet into the air as the front half of his torso stuck out from the maw of a ten-foot long red and white worm. Surrounding the jagged fangs along its round mouth watched black and red eyes. That mouth sucked in the lifeless officer in gulps. One…two… three…gone.
It eyed Richard straddling the yellow lines in the middle of the road. Its round mouth hissed; the fangs worked out and in, the ribs along its tubular body moved the creature forward as if swimming. It bumped the squad car as it hurried toward new prey, causing the vehicle to skid sideways; the tires chirped.
Its mouth and fangs spread open. Sickly secretions dribbled and a smell like rotting garbage gust out as it lunged.
A German Shepherd leapt in front of Richard, jumping into that lunging mouth; becoming the predator's next meal in place of the master. The other dogs rushed forward and barked furiously at the worm-thing as it swallowed the yapping Shepherd.
Rich watched with his eyes fixed not so much on the creature but on what the dog had done.
Its hunger satiated, the worm swam away across the pavement, disappearing along the muddy bank under a boathouse.
Richard ran back to the estate. The dogs swarmed in behind. He entered the code from memories he should not have and the heavy fence closed, locking out the world.
Dozens of dogs hovered around in a semi-circle as he collapsed on the front porch.
'Go watch the front gate or something. Leave me alone!'
All the dogs trotted to the front gate and spread along the fence watching the road and raising their noses to the air searching the wind.
Rich watched in amazement.
Yours to command.
He finally understood.
The dogs were his. They did not merely belong to him; they were an extension of him. They would do his bidding without question. He could order them to jump into the lake and they would, one after another. They
