Coming Soon…

The next tale of “The Accidentals”

 

As Muddy dreamed of performing on a massive connection of paths, on a stage which reached out to the north, south, east and west, farther than any eye could see, something looked back at him.

Many sets of eyes sought him out as he played a Jimi Hendrix song, one he knew would become part of his next adventure. Still, sweat beaded on his skin as the strange glares began to burn at his flesh.

He opened his eyes and the song ended abruptly. Zack? Did he have something to do with this?

Awaking had been its own adventure lately. First, the dream of his mother, second, Zack’s disappearance, and then the crazy times across the River. He had a bad feeling about this one and somehow knew everything they had just endured was nothing compared to what lie ahead. His band—The Accidentals. They needed to change it back before Zack became strong enough.

Could they?

The moment they met in Muddy’s basement, he tore into the band, immediately regretting his words. They were likely just as scared as he was—or should have been. All had answered his text message and arrived within the hour.

“Did someone cross over?” Muddy fumed. “If someone did and left the door open again—”

“No,” Poe said, her voice quivering a bit. “Someone opened the door.”

“On this side?” Otis already twirled his sticks. “Or the other?”

Muddy turned back towards his home.

Zack.

“Does it matter? The door is open and you remember what happened last time that happened. But that’s not all. I have the strangest sense that many more nightmares are headed our way.”

Otis turned left and right. “For us? Coming after us?”

Poe faced westbound. “Does it matter? I had the dream too. That’s twice, now, that we’ve shared a dream.”

“Of crossroads? Our crossroads?” Corey finally opened his mouth. He had only talked when he needed to but now Muddy knew he thought of one thing, one person. He prayed she was truly alive.

“Maybe she found a way to come here.”

Muddy had begun to shake his head as if some being from the other side had invaded his skull. “No. No,” he said to himself and then louder. “No. This is worse.” He nearly dropped his guitar when his hands shook too much. Whether it was out of fear or anger, he couldn’t tell. “No, someone invited them.”

“Them?” Poe gripped his hand. He wished to hold her close, but didn’t. The foreboding that something would rip apart everything they knew squeezed at his heart like a vise.

“Them. Plural.”

The air around them shimmered. Something or someone was coming through.

By the time Muddy raced to the hospital his worst fears were confirmed. Zack no longer lay in his bed. Only empty sheets remained.

He brought back his brother but had he saved him? Something else returned with him. Something that he knew would wind up destroying all Muddy knew and loved.

A strange sensation washed over him as he realized he had been duped. “No, no!” He sprinted as fast as he could to the house and bolted down the stairs to where he left the band.

The rehearsal room stood devoid of any of his friends. All the remained was a now familiar cross shape. The edges around it still shook and when he looked inside, he nearly jumped back up the stairs.

No, his friends. Zack. His father. Everything. He bit back his fear and ran forward with all his might.

When the world stopped spinning, he opened his eyes to discover something worse than he could ever imagine.

No, not here. Not now. We’re dead already—we just don’t know it.

In the distance, he noticed that the basement was still visible as the shimmering began to fade. All of band’s instruments, the special ones, lay on the floor where they’d likely dropped them.

As he felt the sweat run down his arm, his heart bursting through his chest, he realized fate had given him a sliver of hope.

His hands clutched his own guitar. But what could he do? Especially here.

Zack, or what was left of him, had sent the band far away. Far enough for those who lived beneath the River to awaken and travel to his world.

What it took in return frightened him more.

This time, he thought, the music might not be enough to save any of them.