ON EDGE (Decorah Security) Read Online Free Page B

smoking, and he remembered the techniques.
    First he retrieved the knife from its hiding place again and put it under the covers. Then he made himself comfortable in bed and looked up to the line where the wall met the ceiling, repeating the trigger phrase he had used, “Relax now. Relax now.”
    When he sensed the familiar relaxed, dreamy feeling stealing over him, he leaned back more comfortably into the pillows.
    He knew he was in a light trance already, but he needed to go deeper, and he needed to go to that other plane where he had met Ariel.
    He stowed the knife in his waistband as he pictured himself standing on rocks at the edge of a huge lake, probably Lake Superior, where his family had taken a vacation cabin for a few years. He imagined himself in bathing trunks, imagined his body whole again as he pushed off from the rocks and dove in, hitting the water and going down.
    Deeper , he chanted. Deeper. You’re going deeper . At the bottom, he could see a green glow and felt a surge of victory. It was like the glow from the night before.
    There was no sensation of needing oxygen. He was one with the water, like a real sea lion, able to hold his breath for half an hour. And no sensation of pressure. He could go as far down as he needed, except that his outstretched hands hit a barrier.
    He cursed under his breath. He could see the green light ahead of him, but there was no way to get through to it. Pulling out the knife, he slashed at the transparent barrier that held him back. The blade struck something he couldn’t see and couldn’t cut.
    That sent his anger flaring. Like that stupid discussion with Dr. Leonard. He’d made a mistake challenging the doctor, but he wasn’t going to make a mistake now.
    Anger isn’t going to do you any good , he told himself. You need to relax. You need to let it happen.
    Forcing himself to calmness, he gathered his resolve. You want to go there. It’s important to you. You have to cut through the force field , he told himself as he used the knife in a steady stroke that was slowed by the water.
    It worked. He kept at it and cut himself a hole in the membrane and stepped through in a gush of water.
    He’d dived into the lake wearing a bathing suit. But on the other side, he was in clean dry clothing—jeans and a dark tee shirt, actually. There was no billboard advertising the location, but he knew he was in the other plane.
    Last time he’d come to this plane he’d still been in the hospital. This time he was in a jungle clearing walled in by thick greenery.
    He looked back over his shoulder and saw that the water had disappeared entirely, swallowed by the thick foliage The tee shirt he wore felt familiar, but he hadn’t worn jeans since he’d lost his leg.
    Lost his leg?
    Apparently that wasn’t true here. Under the well-worn material, his body was whole again, and the jeans felt good against his skin as he flexed his leg, then tested his balance. He took a few steps and dragged in a breath, grateful to be standing on his own two legs again.
    “Don’t get used to it,” he warned himself, as he looked around, wondering if he had trapped himself by coming here. Or was there some way to get out?
    He’d never sunk so deeply into a trance that he couldn’t wake himself up, but now he sensed that if he tried, it wouldn’t work. He’d forced his way in here, and he was reaping the rewards—and lack thereof.
    He kept the knife in his hand as he looked around the clearing, probing his surroundings. The place smelled damp and richly verdant. A tropical environment with thick loam underfoot and some familiar plants he might have seen in an office building or greenhouse back in Maryland—only a lot bigger. Palm trees, trailing vines with huge leaves. Trees with bright orange or white flowers. Others with thorns on the trunk. Giant ferns with huge fronds rising up from the ground.
    Was this place some kind of alternate reality, or was he making it up as he went along? Like the