Out of This World by Charles De Lint Read Free Book Online Page A

the otherworld and then push deeper again, away from the pack. For the moment, I’ve lost the dogs and I’m in a glade in some forest. Big trees rise up all around me and the night is gone. The sun is high in the sky and sends down shafts of light. I seem to be alone, but I can still hear that last dog growling so I push farther still.
    This time I’m standing in—snow? It’s up to my knees and a cold wind gusts, spraying snow into my face. As far as I can see, there’s an endless expanse of white.
    There’s a So-Cal world that gets this much snow?
    No, this isn’t some parallel unspoiled version of Santa Feliz anymore.
    I remember somebody—Cory, maybe, or Auntie Min— saying that the deeper worlds get stranger and stranger, the farther you go. I’ve hardly gone anywhere and it’s already too bizarre for me. And cold. And I can still hear that howling dog.
    I push again, and again. Landscapes flicker around me. Jungle, desert, arctic tundra, a mountaintop. Once I appear in the middle of a town square straight out of some medieval movie, startling the people around me. I push on quickly before somebody grabs me.
    I know I’m panicking, but I can’t seem to stop the unreasonable fear from pushing me on and on. I haven’t heard the dogs for awhile. The worlds continue to flicker by. I’ve got a sharp pain in my temples now and I’m getting more and more nauseous.
    Finally I manage to stop pushing. I collapse on what feels like broken asphalt. I curl up, holding my head, and try not to throw up. I know if I start, I’ll never stop.
    I don’t know how long I lie there before I finally feel like I can move without being sick. The pain in my temples has receded to a dull ache. I listen hard, but I don’t hear the dogs. I lost them a long time ago.
    I sit up and look around. I’m in the middle of what was a street, in what once was a city. But something flattened most of it and the forest has grown back over the rubble. Parts of buildings covered with vines and moss are still standing. There are remnants of streets like the one I’m on, but trees and other vegetation have pushed up through the pavement, and you can only see the shape of the road by the rubble of the buildings on either side. Judging by the size of some trees, whatever happened here happened a long time ago.
    It’s when I stand up to get a better look at my surroundings that the quiet hits me. It’s not just the lack of traffic. I can’t hear the ocean anymore, either, and that’s just creepy. I’ve never been away from the coast before. Distant or close, the sound of the waves is always somewhere nearby.
    But not here. Wherever here is.
    My stomach’s settled down, but the headache hasn’t gone yet and I’m weak as a kitten. I massage my temples. I need to rest up a bit before I can start to make my way back. Until then, I’m not moving from this spot. I can’t see the door, or portal, or whatever it is that will take me home, but I do know that there’s a wayback close at hand. If I start wandering and try to shift back, who knows where I’ll end up?
    I’m pretty sure that’s not exactly the way it works—I’ve seen Cory cross over at whatever random spot he happens to be—but I’m not taking any chances.
    Except then I hear voices.
    My pulse quickens. I lift my head to read the wind, but it betrays me, sending my scent in the direction of the sound and giving me nothing in return.
    Friends or foes?
    More of the dog men or possible allies?
    Weak as I am, I can’t face the dog men right now.
    So … risk outweighs hope.
    I take a loose rock and scratch a mark on the pavement, then head to the closest side of the road, where I take shelter in the rubble of a building.

We leave the desert world behind. From one step to the next, the red dirt underfoot turns dark and we follow a trail through a thick