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C rystal felt the haze around her as she came to.

Her body had felt ice cold and then a warmth suddenly ran through her and calmed her.

A lilting sound of voices invaded her ears but she couldn't make out specific words.

She felt weightless, like she was floating, then a moment flashed in her mind and she thought about the dizzy feeling she'd felt inside the bar.

Then the flash went away. She struggled to get it back, to piece it together.

She had started to feel sick in the bar, then the bouncer said something and Mason… Mason .

She remembered vividly now that he had somehow managed to put something in her wine.

There was no other explanation for her sudden state of fuzzy hallucination.

For the way her mouth wouldn't work and her limbs had failed her.

The nightmare continued and she fought hard to wake up from it, but she couldn't.

Still, Crystal struggled to open her eyes, but all she could see was group of people hovering over her, they seemed to glow as they looked down on her.

She felt a hand on her forehead, stroking her hair in a calming manner.

They didn't say anything, but she got the overwhelming impression that they were there to help.

She wondered if she was in a hospital, if the bouncer had realized Mason had drugged her and gotten her help.

Her eyes drifted closed again and she felt a little less scared. Whatever Mason had done to her, she was being cared for now. He hadn't gotten her out of that bar, thankfully.

Suddenly, she felt her body jerk, as though she'd been pushed, and her eyes flew open as icy water engulphed her.

She spun in the black water, wondering how the hell she'd ended up in it.

Panic filled her once more as she tipped her head down and then up.

Her lungs were screaming at her for oxygen, but she knew if she opened her mouth, she'd drowned.

As she tilted her face up, she saw a glimmer of light and she kicked hard, driving herself upward through the water. She used her hands to help push herself through the freezing water toward the light.

Finally she broke the surface of the water and took a sharp breath. She gasped, coughing out the water that filtered into her mouth as she struggled to stay above the water. Within moments she could breathe in a somewhat normal way, but the water felt so cold and painful.

She scissor-kicked her legs to spin in a circle in the water and scan the area. Nothing but water all around.

"I'm dreaming. This has to be the drugs," she said. However, it felt too real, especially the cold water.

"Help!" she screamed. Her voice carried far across the water. "Help me, please."

"Lass?" a voice she didn't recognize hollered back.

For a moment it frightened her to hear a man's voice. What if it were Mason?

As a psychological crime thriller writer, she knew that a man might attempt to dispose of a body in a dark lake.

What if he tried to do that, thinking I was dead, but the shock of the water brought me out of it , she thought.

Of course, that was ridiculous. There was no way that Mason got her out of that bar.

The only problem was, if he didn't, then how the hell had she ended up in this lake?

"Lass, can you hear me? Where you be?" the man shouted again.

This time Crystal could tell the accent was different than Mason's or even the bouncer's. Not only that, but also that the voice belonged to someone older.

She shouted back, "I'm here. Help me. I'm in the water."

"I'm coming to you, lass. Make a splash so I can find you," the man said.

She heard the sound of something hitting the water. She turned in that direction and made out a small lantern swinging from a pole on a small rowboat.

Crystal slapped her hands on the surface of the water, slow but consistent so that the man could hear her. "This way. I'm here," she said over and over.

The lantern light grew closer and closer until there the boat was next to her.

"Give me your hands, lass," the man said.

Crystal reached for his hands. He easily hoisted her up and into the boat. She collapsed on the floor next to a pile of fresh caught fish. She breathed heavily, attempting catching her breath.

The man moved the lantern over her body and near her face. "Oh, you're one of them, then?"

"What?" she said, confused.

"It's alright, lass. Here, get yourself warm." He tossed a coarse wool blanket to her. Then he grabbed hold of the oars and began to row toward the shore.

Crystal wrapped the blanket around her as she moved to sit on the wooden seat across from the man, which was just a small wooden board the size of a plank that spanned from one side of the small boat to the other.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she said through chattering teeth as she gazed at her rescuer. His clothing looked coarse, tattered, and not at all modern.

"You're in Loch Ness, lass. My name's Gavin, son of McHeron."

"Loch Ness… as in a lake in Scotland?" she asked.

"Aye, tis the same."

"No, that's impossible," she said, her mind going back over all the events she remembered.

There was no possible way she could have gotten on a plane and flown over to Scotland.

She would have remembered something like that.

This man had to be messing with her. Looking back up at him, she said, "I don't know what's going on, but there is no way I'm in Scotland.

Let me borrow your phone, please. I need to call the police. "

"Listen to me, lass, I cannot explain how it is you ended up in the loch, but there are those that can. Right now, you need to get warm so you don't catch your death of cold. I'll take you to the village where there are people who can tell you what you need to know."

"I… what? I don't…" But the words wouldn't come out properly through her chattering teeth.

The more that the hard, cold wind hit her the more she felt like she was turning into an icicle.

The man seemed kind to her and mentioned taking her to a village.

That would have to do for now until she could get warm and get more than three words out without her teeth chattering.

A few minutes later they drew up to the shore and he helped her out of the boat and to a horse drawn wagon, which was beyond strange. Where was his car? Why were they getting into a wagon? Was he Amish? Were there Amish in Scotland? she wondered.

The fisherman was a man of few words and she didn't want to ask, seeing as he was a little hard to understand with his thick accent.

She looked around, but it was so dark out, even the moon didn't put off much light.

All she could make out was the lake she'd just come out of, the small bit of clear land from the lake to where the horse and wagon stood and the shadow of woods on the other side of the wagon.

There seemed to be no lights of civilization at all.

Her gaze turned to the sky. The stars above her shone brighter than she had ever seen before.

The fisherman picked up the reins and urged the horses into action, pulling the wagon along the bend in the road.

They rode in silence for a while and the sky began to lighten some, as though it was nearing morning.

She had no idea what time it really was, and wondered if the man even had a way to check the time.

As they turned the corner, a soft glow of light came into view, but it still wasn't the city lights she expected. This was like the lantern he'd had on the boat. She wondered if that was the only thing available to the small buildings in the distance too.

"That's the village. We're almost there," he said.

"Village? Are you Amish or is this like a renaissance faire or a theme park?" she asked, feeling completely bewildered and out of her element.

"I don't know what you're askin', lass," he said.

She dropped it and simply rubbed her arms under the blanket she still held around her to create some heat. Just a few more minutes and there would be more people and she could get out of her wet clothes and figure this out.

The wagon entered the village just as dawn began to arrive, she'd been right about it being near morning.

Crystal looked at the thatch roofed buildings.

A few pedestrians crossed their path, all dressed like the fisherman in rough non-modern clothing.

She could hear whisperings in the same dialect as Gavin, and nothing in the village seemed to be modern at all.

It had to be a theme park of some type. She'd gone to Williamsburg as a child and that was also a reenactment village where all the townspeople participated by wearing clothing of the Civil War era.

As it got lighter and lighter with the morning, Crystal could see more of the village. She was impressed at how well it was made and looked very real. It even smelled real with pungent horse dung and hay filling the air.

"Here," Gavin said. The wagon stopped beside a building that seemed a bit more lively as people stood outside in conversation. Some moved in and out of the door.

Crystal read the sign that hung over the door. "The Gatehouse Inn."

"Aye, this tavern used to mark the entry to the village, but the village grew beyond it. The name stayed. Come we'll get you in front of the fire and a whisky to warm you."

She followed Gavin inside and thought it ironic that the last establishment she was in was a bar and now the next, a tavern.

The tavern had many wooden tables and chairs.

It was dimly lit by two separate large fireplaces and candles everywhere.

A counter in the back stood as the bar and a few patrons in period clothing mingling in hushed tones to each other.

Crystal noticed some looked her way and gave her clothing a once over, then turned to mind their business.

"Move for the lass. She's soaked to the bone," Gavin said to a patron who had a prime spot in front of the fire.

The patron grunted in disapproval but picked up his tankard and moved along.

Crystal sat down in front of the fire as close as she could without getting burned.

"I'll get you a hot drink and a whisky," Gavin said and walked away.

Crystal stared into the fire, mesmerized by the flames expecting them to take her out of this hallucination and back to reality.