Cradle Lake by Ronald Malfi

name. It was like shouting into an empty steel chamber. He raced out into the hall and found the bathroom door standing ajar, the light from the bathroom spilling onto the floor and the opposite wall in a crooked rectangle. A curl of steam roiled into the hallway from the bathroom, like fog rolling across a graveyard.
    But the bathroom was empty. Water emptied into the tub, which was half full. The water was crystal clear.
    Yet this didn’t set his mind at ease. He staggered into the hallway, wondering if he was actually still dreaming …
    â€œHeather? Baby?”
    Still no answer.
    Down the hall, the kitchen lights were off. So were the living room lights. He clicked on the lamp beside the couch, hoping to find his wife curled up there, but the couch was empty.
    Jerry Lee whined from across the room, startling him. The dog stood by the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard, though the creature—seemingly equally as frightened as Alan—was looking at his master with moist, dark eyes that struck Alan as oddly human. Jerry Lee typically slept on the floor at the foot of the bed, as he had done in the apartment for many years, and Alan was surprised to find the dog standing here now, tail wagging.
    Alan went quickly to the doors. Jerry Lee whined again but moved out of the way. Beyond the glass was nothing but pitch-black space. Alan ran his hand along the light switch that controlled the patio lights; they came on, casting white light onto the cement patio and the surrounding grass.
    At first he didn’t see anything. But then he noticed Heather standing in the tall grass, her back toward him and wraithlike in a sheer white nightgown, a vampire from an old Hammer film. She faced the line of trees at the edge of the yard, seemingly staring at the opening in the trees that marked the entrance to the dirt path.
    Beside him, Jerry Lee barked. It was like a gunshot going off in an airplane hangar.
    Alan unlocked the door and slid it open. He was wearingnothing but a pair of pajama bottoms, and the cool summery wind suddenly chilled his bones and caused his chest to break out in gooseflesh. “Heather!”
    She didn’t acknowledge him.
    He stepped onto the patio, the concrete rough and cold beneath his bare feet.
    Behind him, Jerry Lee whimpered but did not follow him outside.
    â€œHoney?”
    Still no acknowledgment. In fact, as if in direct disobedience, Heather began walking toward the opening in the trees, toward the dirt path.
    For whatever reason, this caused a hard lump to rise in Alan’s throat. He broke into a sprint and closed the distance between them before she could disappear within the trees. He dropped a hand on her shoulder and spun her around.
    Her face was frightening—a blank canvas. “Oh,” she uttered in a small voice. It was like waking a somnambulist.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here?”
    The question seemed to confuse her. She looked disoriented. He stared hard at her until recollection filtered into her eyes.
    â€œOh,” she said, though more clearly now. “I was looking for you.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOut here?”
    â€œI didn’t know.”
    â€œDidn’t know what?”
    Heather looked confused. “I just … I didn’t know …”
    â€œWhy would you think I’d be out here in the middle of the night?”
    â€œBecause you whispered something to me. I was half-asleep. You whispered something in my ear about going down to the lake.” A small fissure formed in the center of her forehead as she frowned. “Didn’t you?”
    â€œNo,” he said.
    â€œ
Someone
did.”
    â€œIt wasn’t me.”
    â€œBut
someone
…”
    â€œNo one did. Maybe you dreamt it.”
    â€œNo,” she said simply. “I heard it.”
    â€œOf course you dreamt it.” His heart was bursting.
    â€œNo.” She was calm but adamant. “I didn’t dream