What Dreams May Come: A Novel by Matheson Richard

Author:Matheson, Richard [Matheson, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

I woke up suddenly. Ann was crying out my name. Confused, I looked around in the darkness, trying to remember where I was.

I heard her cry my name again, and suddenly, remembered. I was in the camper, in Sequoia. It was the middle of the night and she had taken Ginger outside. I’d woken when she left, then fallen back asleep again.

I was out of the camper in seconds. “Ann?!” I shouted. I ran to the front of the truck and looked toward the meadow. There was a flashlight beam.

I began to smile as I started toward it. This had already happened, I knew. She’d walked into the meadow with Ginger and suddenly her flashlight beam had startled a feeding bear. She’d screamed my name in fright and I’d gone running to her, held her in my arms and comforted her.

But, as I moved toward the flashlight beam, it changed. I felt myself go cold as I heard the growling of a bear, then Ginger snarling. “Chris!” Ann shrieked.

I rushed across the uneven ground. This isn’t really happening, I remembered thinking. It didn’t go this way at all.

Abruptly, I was on them, gasping at the sight: Ginger fighting with the bear, Ann sprawled on the ground, the flashlight fallen. I snatched it up and pointed it at her, crying out in shock. There was blood on her face, skin hanging loose.

Now the bear hit Ginger on the head and, with a yelp of pain, she fell to the ground. The bear turned toward Ann and I jumped in front of it, bellowing to chase it away. It kept coming and I hit it on the head with the flashlight, breaking it. I felt a bludgeoning pain on my left shoulder and was knocked to the ground. I twisted around. The bear was on Ann again, snarling ferociously. “Ann!” I tried to stand but couldn’t; my left leg wouldn’t hold my weight and I crumbled back to the ground. Ann screamed as the bear began to maul her. “Oh, my God,” I sobbed. As I crawled toward her, my right hand touched a rock and I picked it up. I lunged at the bear and grabbed its fur, began to smash at its head with the rock. I felt blood running warmly on my hands; Ann’s blood, mine. I howled in rage and horror as I pounded on the bear’s head with the rock. This couldn’t be! It had never happened!

“Chris?”

I started violently, refocusing my eyes.

Albert was standing next to me; the music still played. I looked up at his face. His tight expression harrowed me. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I stood up quickly.

He looked at me with an expression of such anguish that it seemed as though my heart stopped beating. “What is it?” I asked.

“Ann has passed on.”

First, a jolt; as though I’d been struck. Then a feeling of excitement mixed with sorrow. Sorrow for the children, excitement for myself. We’d be together again!

No. The look on Albert’s face did not encourage such a feeling and a sense of cold, aching dread engulfed me.

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