The Camper

[Luna Silverthorne]

The night was cool and the breeze carrying a slight scent of Jasmine. The music floating on the air was a mix of southern country and blues. The man sitting at the picnic table reading a battered old novel barely noticed as he reached up and ran his fingers through the short curls of his hair. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The small camp fire beside him was burning down in preparation for cooking of the night's meal. With a sigh he put the book down and lifted his head, “Great, again something is just not right tonight.” he stood up and wandered to the edge of his campsite. He was pacing at the edge of the road, watching the rattletrap cars pulling through the campground. As he turned back toward the all-weather tent he had set up he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. The sensation was so quick and so sharp that it took his breath away. Johnathan dropped to his knees gripping his chest. As the pain began to fade, he forced himself to stand up. This was the third or fourth night that something had felt wrong, but yet nothing seemed to be happening. He made his way to the tent to rest for a minute. His heart was tight and his breathing rapid. Suddenly images flashed through his mind, a car, a flash of light, and a scream. His breath caught, “Damn it. What is happening?” he gasped as the images continued to flash through his mind. Someone was hurt and there didn't seem to a way to help whoever it was happening to.

 

A woman walked past on the road, causing Johnathan to look up. She was a regular at the campground and he waved as she rounded the curve near his campsite. He opened the zipper to his tent and slipped inside. This time he was going to manage to find whoever it was while he was in trance even if it took him all night. He settled onto the air mattress he used a bed and began his meditation breathing. However it wasn't long before he knew the trace he was hoping for was not coming. His heart was racing too fast. He couldn't calm himself after tonight's attack. Laying back he fought to get control over his rebelling body. “Damn it Loki... if you are going to show me the problem give me the ability to fix it.” he mumbled not realizing that he was not falling into a trance but the dream realm.

 

 

 

The room was cold as ice, making Johnathan's breath form a cloud in front of him. “Where am I?” he asked with a glance around the nearly empty room.

 

The silence was his only answer for a moment.

Suddenly a faint flash of light caught his attention. He turned toward the light. “Johnathan... I need you.” the voice was faint and slightly familiar.

 

“Who are you?” he called looking around, there was nothing to find. The room he was standing in was nearly empty. There was a small wooden table, a straight back chair, and a small writing desk in the corner.

 

“A friend, someone that you haven't seen in years. We only talked a few times over the last few years. But something is wrong, I need your help.” the voice told him with a light breath of fear.

 

“How can I help, I can not even see you.” he was starting to get scared as the voice began to center into his mind. He knew her, had known her for years.

 

“Back in the world, I am miles from you. I need you to let me come to you. I can not tell you more, and I can not promise that you will not get hurt.” she told him. “Now return and answer me...” her voice faded to be replaced by the ringing of his cell phone.

 

 

 

 

He picked up the phone and looked at the name of the caller. He didn't recognize the number but something told him to answer it. “Hello?” he answered the phone knowing he sounded like a fool.

 

“Johnathan, it's Amber... Can you help me?” she asked softly.

 

“Amber?!? Where are you?” he asked suddenly recognizing the voice from the strange dream.

 

“I'm in a little town outside of Cleveland. I need to get out of here. Can I come there?” she asked her voice rapidly firing the words.

 

He didn't pause for thought, “Always. Do you have a way to get here?” he asked forcing his mind to think of what he would need to help her not knowing what was wrong.

 

“I can take Greyhound. Are you sure that I am welcome there.” there was a strange sound in the background followed by an increase in her breathing.

 

“Amber, you should know that my door is always open for you. There is nothing that I will not do for you if it is within my power to do so.” He told her honestly.

 

“Ok, thank you. It's not enough to say but it's all I can say. I will be there in about 3 days. Please be waiting for me.”

Johnathan took a steadying breath, “Just call and let me know when to be there. Do you need to know the address here?”

 

“I'll get it, when I get close. I am too scared right now. I just need get out of here. Keep your phone on.” she hung up before he could say anything else and his heart once again began to race. He flipped the phone closed and tried once again to meditate into the needed trance. One again it eluded him. As the dream realm closed in on his mind once more he knew that the powers he had kept locked away for so long were once again awake and still not under his control.

 

 

 

“Johnathan... Don't help her.” a deep angry voice snarled from the darkness. “You will regret it if you put yourself out to help her. There is nothing to come of it for you.”

 

“I have to help. It is in my heart.” Johnathan snapped back, there was nothing he would not at least try to do for Amber.

 

“Do you not know what is happening to her even as I speak to you?” the voice growled on.

 

“I know she is scared. That is all I need to know to offer my help and safety.” He was angry, and the voice telling him to not help her wasn't making it any easier to not be. He looked around, the darkness was complete no more than a few feet in every direction. “Where have you taken me?”

 

The voice laughed, “This is my construct room. Everyone that can travel in the dream realm with ease has one, even you. I simply choose not to show you much of it.” there was an edge of kindness now that the topic was away from Amber.

 

“Why do you not want me to help her?” he asked knowing it was a bad idea to bring the topic back to Amber, but needing to know what was happening.

The voice filled with anger and the space that was lit around Johnathan got smaller. “Because she is more powerful than she should be. We need her to be powerless.”

 

“Never!” Johnathan didn't understand anything that was happening, but he wasn't going to let anyone hurt Amber.

 

 

 

He sat back up on the air mattress, reaching for the small notebook he always kept near at hand. The events of the night warranted writing down. He began with a brief summary of the last week to keep everything in order.

 

“Monday night- something began tonight, I felt a power trying to tap into the abilities that I have kept locked down for years. However nothing more than the first little tap happened tonight.” he quoted as he wrote the words in a flowing script across the paper. “By Wednesday I knew something was very wrong, but not able to figure it out I was left to simply wait and watch as the events unfolded. Tonight Friday evening- dreams began. Well travels to the dream realm, a place I have not consciously went to in many years. The first was Amber, not that I knew that until I returned and answered the phone. The second is a more sinister being. Something that hides in the dark and wants to hurt her. I refuse to let it. Even through I can see now that it means fighting with powers that I have no control over. That in itself means trouble for me. I know of only one person that can help. The only questions that remains are will he be willing to train me and can he train me fast enough to keep her safe.” he set the pen and notebook down. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he got out of his tent. The walk to the site where one of his oldest friends was camped was not a long one, however it was long enough that he could think. He had to figure out how to ask for what he needed.

 

As he rounded the last curve in the road Johnathan could see his friend's modest RV sitting at the back of the line. “Chris? You home?” he called as he approached the thirty some foot vehicle.