The Dream Stalker

16) "You Have Ten Seconds"

The sensation that I felt was one of the most bizarre things I'd had ever experienced. I went from diving head first off a ship to finding myself planted firmly down on a comfortable chair. I felt as if someone had cut away a section of my memories that explained how I got from the first situation to the next.

I felt nauseous, which was starting to become a common feeling for me in these dreams, only this time it had nothing to do with overexerting myself. I shook my head to clear it, and then took my first real look at my new surroundings.

I was seated at the end of a long dining table made of solid, stained oak in a large banquet hall. It really was the most lavish room I had ever been inside of; a large, shiny crystal chandelier was suspended over the table and a number of notable paintings hung from the walls. Several prominent, well-dressed individuals were gathered around the table, enjoying the feast spread out on it and conversing quietly in strange accents. They seemed to be of the strong variety of Proxies, as none of their faces were blurred.

Boone and McKenzie were also present at the table; both seated to the right of me. McKenzie was resting his head on the table, and seemed to be a bit out of it, while Boone was tediously picking at the food on the plate in front of him with a fork.

"Are you okay?" I asked McKenzie. I felt slightly bad for just shoving him off the ship, but it had been necessary-I would have never been able to convince McKenzie to jump off on his own.

McKenzie lifted his head and gave me a cold glare. "What the hell were you thinking?" He shouted, and all the other conversations going on around the table died off.

The room fell silent. All the Proxies turned their attention on McKenzie; staring at him judgingly. I was afraid of what might happen next. Would they attack McKenzie like they did the Dream Stalker in Boone's dream?

McKenzie laughed nervously. He lifted a nearby glass of water and drained it in one go. "Hmm...tasty water," He said, with a poor attempt at a grin on his face.

This seemed to satisfy the Proxies, as they turned their attention away from him and resumed their previous conversations. I breathed a sigh of relief.

McKenzie continued to laugh until I slugged the fool in the shoulder. "That hurt," McKenzie said softly, rubbing the spot I punched. "And you still haven't answered my question, by the way."

I quietly explained the theory I had come up with on the spot; about how the ocean was not physically part of the dream, so that it would serve as a gateway to another section of Greta's dream. McKenzie seemed completely lost by this explanation, while Boone only nodded his head.

"What I want to know is-how did you know to jump off the ship, Boone? This is your first time inside someone else's dream, isn't it?" I asked.

Boone shrugged. "I don't know. I just had a feeling."

Before the conversation could continue further, one of the Proxies began clanking his spoon against his glass, and stood up-he was an older man with a thick, curly mustache. He was dressed in a mustard colored military fatigues and had a harsh look on his face.

"I'd like to extend my thanks to our extinguished host for inviting us all to dine with him this fine evening," The man said in a heavy cockney accent. He raised his glass above his head. "To Mr. Cadaver!"

The rest of the Proxies imitated the military man's actions and echoed him, "To Mr. Cadaver!"

Not wanting to stand out, I joined their salute, which prompted McKenzie and Boone to do so as well.

"Wait a second," a woman in tight fitting scarlet dress said, looking around the table. "Where is Mr. Cadaver?"

I had just assumed this Mr. Cadaver was one of the Proxies seated at the table, but, judging by the way all the Proxies shared nervous glances at the scarlet dressed women's claim, he was not. How they hadn't noticed their host wasn't dining with them prior to now was beyond me, but I didn't bother questioning them about it. These people weren't real after all.