He felt it, like an icy hand of a giant gripping his skull and squeezing. The vision came and went in fractions of a millisecond.

Jumping out of bed, startled, as if shocked by a sudden surge of cosmic electricity, he walked hurriedly to the bathroom to ready himself for his short journey.

He started the shower and tried to let wakefullness come over him. It was difficult in these times.... waking up. A cold fog outside, with the southern california temperatures dipping into the chilly 40s. His destination seemed a stones throw, yet it was further than he could ever truly realize until his arrival.

The warm water flowed over his body, he closed his eyes and tried to SEE what had awoken him.... it was.... cold.... colder.... it was a fleeting glimpse.... then it was gone.

What was the vision? He wasnt even sure, the memory of the actual VISION was gone, but the residue clung to his thoughts. He had to do something, something larger than he had accomplished in all of his years of living combined.

As he brushed his teeth, he stared into his own eyes in the reflection of the mirror. Who was this man? The man that lived behind these eyes is not the man that lived there last time he gazed into them so intently. This was a man that had a purpose.... and would know that purpose in a relatively short period of time.

He got dressed, and grabbed the duffelbag that he had packed last night..... to prepare for this short vacation in the local mountains of Big Bear. His wife and kids had made the jaunt yesterday afternoon. Business had kept him from leaving until today.

As his Chevy truck rolled out of the driveway, he was overtaken by a strange feeling... as if hidden eyes gazed upon him through the clouds.... knowing eyes... he felt their sympathy, and he wondered what it was that deserved such a sympathy. He stared at his house, feeling oddly detached, knowing that somehow, this would be the last time he would set eyes on it.

The drive was not unpleasant. the 91 freeway was uncluttered as it always was early Saturday morning. He glanced at the clock on his dashboard, 7:49 AM. hmm..... "fuckin early" he thought.....

His mind wandered during the drive.....for some reason he was inclined to listen to music that he felt was a sort of soundtrack for his life.... as if reviewing what had gone before.

The Jackson Five....Led Zeppelin, Triumph, Jim Croce, The Beach Boys, Accept, Blink 182, 10,000 Maniacs, Better Than Ezra...... he tried to listen to every song that ever had brought a special feeling into his life, as though trying to relive his entire life during the drive.

The vision.... what was it? It gnawed at him, leaving him with an uneasy feeling, that was somehow serene in its disturbance. The cold, it was somehow unbearably cold, and the taste of pennies somehow filled his mouth. He pulled onto the shoulder of the freeway as the feeling again gripped him. It was a feeling of panic, a feeling of claustrophobia.... the ability to view, but not to SEE, the ability to touch, yet not to FEEL.

He got out of his truck, and walked around to the passenger side. One more time, that odd taste of pennies filled his mouth, and he vomitted violently. His head was again gripped by the hand of terror that had awoken him so startlingly this morning.... it was the feeling that he remembered getting when he took too big of a drink of an Icee, as a kid, or taking a gigantic drink of ice water after playing ball in 90 degree weather... his entire head felt as if it were an ancient glacier......... hiding the fossils of wooly mammoths, and saber tooth tigers.... or even dinosaurs from the Cretaceous period.... Dinosaurs caught in the ice age... never fully knowing what it was that was happening to them, yet participating in their own demise by merely existing.

Again the vision flashed through his mind, and again, before he could focus on it, it was gone.

He realized with a start that he was late.

Jumping back into his truck, turning the key, and merging back onto the 91 freeway eastbound....

Late for what?

His knowledge was obviously very limited, but the feeling was unshakeable, he was late, and had to hurry.

The stereo blared a song that he had always found to be one of his "favorite ten songs of all time," because, for some reason, he felt that it was about him (wasnt that why people clung to their favorite songs anyway? Some sort of "personalization" with the music, or lyrics), more so though, than any of his other favorites.... it was by an obscure early 90's rock n roll band.

"when you're led astray, Ill always be around"
"you can sacrifice meee..........
"you can sacreeeeffiiice.... meeeeeeeee"

It was a song about being a rock for someone, a constant in a life of variables. He had always prided himself on his strength of reliability. He was, without a doubt, the most reliable person he had ever known.

The vision briefly gave him a glimpse into itself, yet again.... fading sunlight, and cold... forever..... cold. Coppery taste.

He drove on, exiting I-10 at highway 330, and beginning the journey through the foothills of the San Bernardino mountains.

Speed was of utmost importance, he again looked at his clock, and realized that, his feelings of tardiness were substantiated, he was late, late, late, late.

The truck lurched under the surge of fuel into its engine, and he concentrated on the windy, treacherous road.

The temperature had not yet risen to a point that would melt the ice on the road completely, and control over his vehicle was very difficult to maintain.

Big Bear was getting closer, and with its proximity, the feeling left in the aftermath of the vision strengthened. It was growing, with each passing mile it became clearer and clearer. He was reminded of a painting he had studied in college whose subject matter was "pointilism" when looked at from one inch away, it was nothing but a flurry of indiscernible dots, yet the further away one got, the more precision the painting became.

Panic again struck him, as he looked at his clock. it was already 9:02. He was LATE... late LATE late LATELATELATE.

Again he punched his gas pedal, not overly worried about the ice on the roads, somehow, the vision had reassured him that the ice in the road was not a factor.

The scenery was beautiful, yet somehow sad, sunlight was beginning to break through the cumulus clouds that gathered near Big Bear at this time of year. The snow was glisteningand covered the small vacation cabins that were plentiful in this neck of the woods...
He was getting closer, and closer.... knowing that his pitstop on the freeway could possibly have destroyed his entire purpose in life, he pushed the limitations of his driving skills, and sped along the forest highway (now hwy 18) through the mountains.

He was coming into town, and the vision again reentered his mind... this time, its haziness was beginning to lift, and he felt a strange calm come over him.... he knew the task at hand was one whos importance was monumental.

Losing control briefly, he made a hard turn onto Lakeview drive. The 20 MPH speed limit signs were covered in snow, and were virtually unreadable as he drove in excess of 70.

Briefly, he saw squirrels running through the trees and on the banks of snow that bordered the one lane street....

He sped past the cabin in which they were staying, knowing that the vision would be fulfilled beyond it, near the tip of the peninsula that poked its slim finger into the freezing Big Bear Lake. Big Bear Lake was always frozen near the shoreline during the wintertime, and its thickness was variable..........

He was late.

He slammed on the brake losing control of his truck as it skidded into a vacant, freestanding garage. The vision was now as clear as a syllabus in his head. He got out of his truck, and ran towards the west side of the peninsula.

He knew what he would see there, and wasted no time setting about his mission. As he sprinted past his son, whose screams of terror filled the silent morning sky, he had regret, he knew what it meant, in this day and age to grow up without a father-figure.... He knew though, that his son would grow to be a great man one day, and that this 15 seconds of time, would change his life forever.

The man jumped into the sky from the shore in a dive formation. he could see the footprints, leading to the hole in the ice, that was just small enough to have swallowed up the girl that he lived for..... the girl in the vision, the girl that had given his life more meaning than, before her, he could ever have imagined.

His elbows hit the ice with a sickening thud, and he felt his left forarm break with the force of it. The ice gave way as his head cracked through it, and he joked to himself about being "hard headed".

He knew that this was it, this was the defining moment of his life, the next ten seconds would either make his life a success, or a failure.

The jagged daggers of ice tore into his face as his head entered the ice. He felt the shards enter quickly, then melt with the heat of his body, only to begin freezing again with their proximity to the icy waters of the lake. He stifled a shriek as one tore his left eye from its socket, and disregarded the gruesome pain of each ice sword, slicing the length of his body, as he was quickly swallowed by the lake.

Through a crimson cloud of water, with his good eye, he saw her. Suspended several feet from the bottom of the lake, which was near eight feet deep in this area. There were bubbles coming from her mouth, and he could see that she was struggling against the weight of her clothes, to get to the top. He moved his arms swiftly, and got to her quicker than he thought possible, he could feel her body struggling, yet was able to hold her still, as his strokes brought her nearer the surface.

He swam to the area where the water was at its reddest, knowing he would find a portal into the real world there. He lifted, with all of his might, and projected the girl through the hole, his body half following hers, only to crash down, and further crack the thin ice. His last hand on her was a push to the shore. Through his one good eye, he could see that help had arrived, there were paramedics on the shore, already grappling her onto the land. His limp body began to descend into the frigid waters, and he felt.... cold.... and could taste that strange coppery taste.... if theres one thing that he prided himself on, it was his strength of reliability.

The End

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