Read The Vision for Free Online Page B

changer. Nothing drew her attention. The sound of laughter filtered to her
    from the bar area, and she found herself annoyed that they all seemed to be getting along
    so well. She’d been disturbed enough that her own friends were making fun of her. The
    Thor Thompson thing was more than she could stomach. The man was arrogant beyond
    belief.
    She threw herself on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had to make the first discovery now.
    The bet was ridiculous. Totally immature. She should just tell him in the morning that it
    was off. Except that she was the one who had started it.
    Eventually the exertion of the day began to take its toll. She left the television on for
    company but changed into an oversize T, turned off the lights and tried to get some sleep.
    At first she could still hear the sounds of conversation and laughter, just as annoying as
    before.
    But she needed rest. Last night she had slept at last but not long enough. At least today,
    she hadn’t seen a thing in the water except fish and coral.
    The world was well, she told herself.
    A little voice crept in. Bull!
    At last she drifted to sleep.
    In her dreams, she was diving again. The sound of her breath through the regulator was
    soothing. The water was clear. Tangs and clown fish darted by. A very large grouper, a
    good six feet, hovered by the reef. The sun struck the water, the rays arrowing down.
    Anemones wafted with the current.
    And then…
    She saw the woman. Hair drifting in golden streams. Head bowed, arms lifted in the easy
    current. White fabric drifting against the length of her body Feet tied to the weight that
    held her down.
    Her head lifted. Her eyes opened. Her mouth worked. No sound came, but her eyes
    pleaded, filled with an infinite sadness.
    Then, from behind her, they rose….
    Skeletal forms with decaying flesh cloaking their bones. Skeletal forms brandishing
    knives and swords, bodies rotting, clothing streaming from them in oddly colorful tatters.
    They marched. Marched across the seabed, sightless eye sockets staring at Genevieve,
    bony jaws locked with determination.
    She was frozen at first, unable to move.
    She had discovered something, she realized. Something she wasn’t meant to know.
    And now…
    The sound of her breathing stopped.
    The army of skeletons was almost upon her. She turned to swim away, only to discover
    that she was surrounded. There was no escape.
    A rotted arm in a tattered jacket reached out for her. Suddenly skeletal arms were rising
    all around her, bony fingers nearly touching her flesh.
    She sensed the girl’s soundless warning. Beware…
    She could almost smell the overwhelming scent of decay.
    Rotting flesh. A breath away…
    It was impossible, she told herself. Impossible to be smelling death and decay beneath the
    surface, breathing through a regulator.
    She awoke, jerking bolt upright in the bed, filled with dread and panic. She forced herself
    to breathe deeply. It was a dream, only a dream. Inhale, exhale.
    She gritted her teeth. Ridiculous. She wasn’t like this!
    She felt thirsty, anxious for a glass of water, for something tangible. Tea. She could make
    tea. Maybe it was close enough to morning that she could just stay awake.
    The television was still on. Paid programming. Some buff guy talking about his new
    cardio machine. She could see him past the screen dividing the room.
    She let him keep talking. She liked the voice, and the light cast by the television.
    Actually, she needed more light. She turned on the bedside lamp.
    It was only when she stood that she realized she was wet. And salty. As if she’d really
    been in the sea. Swallowing hard, she rushed into the bathroom, turning on the main
    lights on her way. She started to splash her face with cold water, then looked into the
    mirror of the medicine cabinet above the sink.
    Her heart thudded; her breathing ceased.
    There was seaweed in her hair.
    3
    T he strangest clattering noise was going on, as if someone was throwing pots