“Where at?” he asked immediately.
“Right here,” I replied. “He was standing right here. I think it was a guy. That’s why I came this way. It’s so dark it’s hard to tell. I was sitting on the beach right before you got here and noticed the person.”
“Where are your mother’s things, Triss?” he asked, scanning the area and coming up with the same thing as me, nothing. There was no one here.
I pointed over to the beach, completely defeated.
He nodded and looked briefly at the ground for any sign of tracks besides mine; he then turned to the officers at the base of the hill and signaled for them to wait.
We walked back down the hill, and Officer White explained to the others the situation. I had no idea how he got so much from my few sentences. He pointed at the two officers who were in control of the German shepherds, and he motioned for me to come with them to where my mom’s belongings had been dumped by my carelessness.
“Triss, we are going to allow our K-9 members, Sunny and Brandy, to smell some of your mother’s items, okay?” Officer White asked, looking intensely into my eyes. He had to be well over six feet tall and commanded the attention of anyone who looked in his direction.
All I could do was nod. It felt like if I even opened my mouth to breathe, I would break down again.
One of the female officers, who had her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, came over to me and touched my shoulder softly. She quieted her chattering CB on her belt.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” she asked.
“My aunt,” I muttered, staring off over the darkened sound again, my eyes filling with tears.
One of the other female officers gave commands to Sunny and Brandy and off they went in the direction of the hill. The very same hill I had just come from with Officer White. They were racing off into the distance with the humans following right behind. My mom had been in that area. The dogs caught her scent.
It seemed like hours, but Aunt Vieta finally arrived. Her eyes wide with horror from the scene she witnessed in the parking lot. I couldn’t even begin to count how many police and search and rescue arrived. There were divers already out in the ocean, and everywhere I turned, there was activity.
I had shutdown. I was merely operating on autopilot. Aunt Vieta started running toward me and scooped me into her arms.
“We’ll find her, Triss. We’ll find her,” she kept mumbling into my ear, but it did little to comfort me.
“I know we will,” I nodded in agreement.
She released me and stood back looking at me.
“Here, I thought you might be freezing.” She shoved a coat into my arms that she had tied around her waist.
“Officer White’s over there,” I said, pointing toward his direction. He was busy getting updates from the teams that had spread in various directions. “He’d be the best person to fill you in. I don’t think I could.”
I appreciated my aunt’s presence, but I would rather just sit on the beach listening to everyone’s updates, hoping I would find something out that would bring my mom back immediately. Instead, I was bombarded with statistics about the longer the victim was missing how exponentially the odds of finding them decreased. I doubt that was for me to hear, but I did. And those words would forever haunt me.
“The waters are getting a little rough. We’ll start again in the morning,” were the first of many sentences that etched a place in my mind, creating a level of despair I didn’t think possible.
CHAPTER ONE
The screams shattered my sleep. My heart was pounding seventy miles an hour. I felt for my fleece blanket to throw off, since I seemed to be stuck to my sheets with gallons of sweat. I looked around my blackened room, with only the red glow of the alarm clock displaying 2:00 am to comfort me. My heart sank as I lost the battle for another night’s sleep. I heard the gentle snore of my bulldog, Matilda, rattling through the air. She was used to my screams by now. I promised myself with a little whisper that I was safe. It was only a nightmare — another nightmare. That was all it was. It couldn’t possibly be real, that kind of terror. The dreams were coming closer together now, and worse yet they seemed to lead to nowhere but sleep deprivation.
I commanded myself to take deep, steady breaths to stay calm. Still shaky from the last images that had blasted into my brain, I tried to rid myself of the awful scene replaying over and over in my mind — my death. The mere thought of the attacks made me want to hide from the world in my closet. The black, swirling creatures were coming at me and through me from every direction. Their mouths open, displaying several sets of teeth with blood dripping from their lips, waiting for me to make a mistake. This was not a world I recognized. How could my mind even create such deadly monsters? The elements of realism spooked me beyond belief. I grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and wiped the dampness from my forehead, unsure of how much longer I could keep this up. Every night and every dream seemed different. They all had similar storylines, to a degree. Sometimes the unfamiliar characters reappeared to haunt me over and over again. It just depended on the night. Part of me felt as if I should know these people or at least the events that kept taking place. Why else would they keep reappearing? However, the events were so fantastical, the thought that I should recognize them made me feel even crazier for thinking it.
Fully awake now and completely disappointed in the prospect of another long and drawn out day without sleep, I trudged to the window and opened my heavy, red velvet curtains to expose the serenity of a dark outside world. The snow was slowly floating down leaving a beautiful pattern on the sidewalk, illuminated only by the streetlight. The sight brought a shiver to my bones. Even though a minute ago I’d had to wipe the wet heat of fear from my body. I couldn’t keep chasing and being chased like this. I couldn’t go on thinking my life was in danger every time I closed my eyes. I needed rest. I needed sleep. Lack of sleep was making things worse. I was sure of it.
“What is all of this telling me? I don’t even know the people in my dreams!” I whined to Matilda.
She responded with her usual snorts and snores, sprawling out even more on my mattress now that I had left a larger area for her enjoyment. I flipped on my nightstand light, which cast its familiar glow, as I attempted to move back into bed without displacing Matilda. A sigh escaped as I grabbed my latest book, which was ready and waiting for another night like all the others.
I opened the book to the third chapter as my mind attempted to identify the people in my dream. Seeing crumpled remnants of humans discarded all over was never something that I could get used to regardless of whether it was a nightmare or not. I was getting used to seeing the swirls appear to attack me, but I was also intrigued by the thought of trying to figure out the identity of the random strangers who appeared time and time again. Sometimes they were the same people. Other times, a completely new set would make an entrance. I always avoided looking into their eyes because, during one of my very first nightmares, all I saw was the dull glow of death staring right back at me. I couldn’t stomach it twice, and somehow my subconscious self knew to never look them in the eyes, whoever they were.
Thankfully, the latest batch of characters had seemed kind — as if I knew them from somewhere although that wasn’t possible. I’m sure they must have made an appearance in other dreams. I just don’t remember them. One stood out in particular. He was trying to save me, but it was too late. The black, soulless swirls got me. My nightmares had never gotten to that point before. Never did I know the conclusion to these nightmarish adventures before tonight.
This time, I saw how it ended. I didn’t make it. It wasn’t a painful process. I didn’t feel tortured. It seemed like I should have felt the attack. I didn’t. What I was left with were horrible feelings of despair and loneliness wrapping their way through every aspect of my life. My soul felt like an empty cavern as I saw myself being blown away into the wind. I remembered looking back at the strangers on the ground. They were looking up toward
s the sky at me as I left to wherever bodiless souls go. The one guy who was so memorable was staring back at me, tears streaming down his face. He was the one who tried to save me. He’d risked his own life against the monsters for me. He was only a minute too late. My heart now longed for him, this figment of my imagination. I didn’t know why.
I couldn’t shake the images this time. They were too haunting, too real. And now I was going crazy believing that these things had some sort of significance. Lack of sleep was finally catching up with my fragile state of mind.
Beyond Doubt (Beyond Love Series #2) Page 24