X Marks The Spot
By: Lissa ©2000

Chapter 13

"Here we are," Mark announced to himself. "Beautiful land that was once Mirror Lake." He looked around him, taking in the serene view.

Don glanced about quickly. "There's nothing here."

Mark chastised his friend. "Be patient. This is the only clue we've got so far."

"Second clue you mean," Don corrected.

"Besides the vision that was barely anything!"

"At least you saw what happened!"

"No, I didn't see. I could feel and I could hear, but I could not see a damned thing."

"So what are we doing?" Don cried out.

"We're trying to get your future girlfriend back and figure out what the hell that note meant." He let Don calm down a few moments before continuing. "Now, reread the note."

Don obeyed and Mark began the task of trying to piece everything together. Don had mentioned darkness in his own dream. He'd "witnessed" her terror and screaming. The note called for a reflection of Half Dome. He looked up now. The sun blazed, shedding bright light on the rock but nothing looked strange. How the hell is it supposed to add up? Muttering in frustration, he stamped his foot on the ground. He jumped back when he felt cold water splash onto him. Cursing to himself, he bent down to try and wring out some of the water from his jeans and stopped. He's stepped into a puddle whose face reflected the image of Half Dome. It was red. He looked down and noticed that his jeans and shoes weren't only wet by water. His pants were tinged a slight pink. "Don," he croaked out.

At once, Don was at his side. At his beckoning, Don bent down and drew out the piece of cloth soaking in the red water. Unfolding it, he found a small plastic box. Opening that, he drew out a piece of paper.

Good job! So the Lhaam aren't as stupid as I thought. I commend you both on coming this far and not being scared away. Mel's a real treasure, isn't she? You may as well give up, you know. She's not yours. But, I guess since you're still reading this, it means you're waiting for another clue. Well here you go: Their voices have long since been silenced, their traditions only found in the memories of a precious few. Seek out a rock where the pounding of rock against food could be heard.

"Give me the cloth," Mark commanded.

"You sure? If it means another painful vision. I don't-"

"This is for her, Don. We're running out of time." Don frowned but stepped closer. "And whatever you do, don't let me let it go. Let's see how much I can get this time." Don nodded and placed the cloth in his friend's hands.

Mark saw the darkness. He felt her trembling. He felt the sleeve being torn from her sweater… And he began to scream. The shock from being pushed onto the ground and then having the skin being cut up even more… The cloth was put aside for the moment but he could still sense the emotions around him. The terror coming from her was thick and threatened to smother him. The stranger's fascination with her torment sickened him just as much. The cloth felt itself being drawn up again and being folded around a package. Then it was used to wipe some of the remaining blood off her body. At the touch, the sense of pain flared up again but was quickly gone. The sleeve was once again put aside but he could still feel the stranger moving about… Muttering foreign things. He could feel the urgency building in him… And then cold and then wetness. It was the sleeve being put into the puddle for their coming.

Mark stared into Don's concerned eyes. Looking around, he noticed that he'd fallen to his knees. "I'm fine," he tried to say and found his voice strangely hoarse.

Don gave a small smile. "Tell me about it later. Rest now. We'll head back soon."

Mark shook his head. "Time's running out. We need to find her soon."

Don tensed at his urgent tone but remained firm. "You need your rest first. It won't do us any good if we go around when you're not feeling well. You're too shaken up to go," he protested.

Mark looked him square in the eye. "Mel is my friend too, Don. I'm not going to let you get hurt out there by yourself. You're still new to the game and I don't want to be the one to tell her that her love is dead." He waited to make sure his message sunk in before turning to go. "Come on. We have a lot of ground to cover if we're ever going to find a rock large enough for women to have pounded their food on. Thankfully, I think I know what he's talking about."

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