by Lissa Kasey
It wasn’t Tim who hurt me. I wasn’t sure it was related to our relationship at all. It had been my disappearance and how the world had treated me afterward. Like I’d been at fault, the victimizer instead of the victim. Always looked at with question, doubt, and accusations. How dare I make people worry? How dare I make people search for me? How dare I ask anyone to care about me?
But you’ve been so happy this trip. You look at Alex and your face lights up. You spend hours working on crafts and smile not realizing anyone is watching. You reach for him without worrying about anyone else. I think he’s lightened your heart. That makes me happy. I can see he inspires you.
I just wish I didn’t have to lose you as a friend…
There seemed to be a long pause after that one as the time change showed an hour or so mark.
I haven’t been the best of friends to you, and I’m sorry. Was wrapped up too much in myself. That’s my failing. Having a career and fame is great until you realize how much you have to give up for them. I’m glad you saw that so soon and didn’t waste your life alone like I have.
Please call me when you get home, so I know you’re safe. As soon as I find your costume, I’ll mail it to you. I shouldn’t have listened to MaryAnn’s advice anyway and let her switch them out. I’m so sorry. Love, Freya.
I stared at the long trail of texts, read through them a half dozen times. Nothing about it screamed insane murderer to me. Nothing about what she said made me think she would have taken Alex.
I tried calling Alex. His phone just rang and rang, then clicked to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. My heart pounded with worry. Maybe the shadow had taken him. Alex said he thought that the paranormal wasn’t drawn to us, that this time wasn’t really about the shadows that dogged our steps, but instead about the people around us. Maybe he’d been wrong.
What if it had been waiting for the right moment to grab him? A time when the rest of us weren’t watching? But why give him back at all then? He wasn’t healed from the last round.
I pulled on my clothes and shoes, trying to think through the panic. Did I have the detective’s number? Maybe I should call him?
I dug through my wallet and realized Alex had that card, not me. Fuck.
I called Alex again. Nothing. Texted him, begging him to reply. Maybe he had gotten distracted at Subway. For two hours? My brain thought that was stupid even as I grabbed the spare room card, car keys, and darted out into the hallway and down the corridor to the main outer door. He hadn’t been wrong about Subway being across the parking lot. It was in a small strip mall kitty-corner to the hotel, dark and closed. I raced to it anyway, the sign on the window saying they closed at eleven. Early for a Subway, but I saw no sign of employees or Alex.
Fuck.
My phone was clutched so hard in my hand I didn’t realize I’d dialed until the faint buzzing ring echoed through the silence of the late evening. Standing in the parking lot there was nothing moving, no cars, no bugs, no birds, just the ringing of the phone. My heart raced, and I searched the surrounding darkness with my gaze, terrified of what I’d see, but hoping for a glimpse of Alex.
“Micah?” A voice came through the line, close enough to Alex that I felt a momentary leap of joy that it was Alex, only to realize it was Lukas instead. The subtle difference in their tone a mild Southern drawl for Alex, and a more polished city edge in Lukas’s. I must have gone too long without answering, though I put the phone to my ear because Lukas said, “Micah? What’s wrong?”
“He’s gone,” I whispered, feeling the words whoosh out of me like I was a squeaky toy crushed underfoot. I dropped to my knees, suddenly unable to breathe. The weight of the idea of him being taken again enough to undo all my hard fought for calm.
Panic attack. Full loss of vision and air like a punch to my gut. Everything narrowed down to the frantic warning signal going off in my head.
I could barely make out Lukas’s words. A string of curses and the slinging of accusations. Things already racing through my mind that didn’t need help taking hold. I was really good at self-blame. Shouldn’t have taken him from home. Maybe if he was home with Lukas, he’d have been safe. Maybe if he’d never met me, he would never have been taken.
Then Sky’s soft voice filled the line.
“Micah, sweetie, breathe, okay? Count with me. Focus on my voice, breathe. One, two, three…”
I fought to suck in air and focused hard on her voice. It was the only thing grounding me in that moment, despite the fact that I was curled up in a ball on the warm pavement, in the middle of a parking lot, phone pressed to my ear. The wheezing draw of my lungs, eased a tiny bit, letting in cool trickles of air.
“That’s it, breathe,” Sky continued. I heard Lukas in the background somewhere still raging, though couldn’t make out his words. “I had a feeling both of you would have PTSD about Alex’s disappearance,” Sky said. “Can you tell me what happened? Keep breathing.”
“He’s gone,” I whispered, my heart feeling as though it had been ripped out and were laying in front of me, barely beating on the black pavement.
“Did he say where he was going? How long has he been gone?” Sky asked.
“Subway. But I’m there now. It’s closed. It’s been hours. I fell asleep.” Just uttering those last three words broke me. I hunched down and sobbed into my knees. I’d failed him again. He’d given me so much in such a small amount of time, and I’d failed him, let that thing take him. I’d walked around the last two years thinking I was finally healed from it all, above the pain. Except I hadn’t healed, had I? I’d just buried it all until Alex arrived and gave me a reason to plant seeds instead of bury memories. Fuck.
“Micah, sweetie, it’s okay. I need you to focus for me. Do a few things so we can find him, okay?”
“He’s gone,” I said again. “It took him again.”
Sky sucked in a breath hard enough I heard it over the phone. “Do you know that for sure? Did you see it?”
Like when he’d vanished on video? There one second, poof, gone the next. I remember those first few nights being home, sitting outside in the darkness, terrified, yet hopeful that he’d return. Only I’d been greeted with nothing but silence.
“No,” I said. “I fell asleep. I failed him.”
“You didn’t. It’s okay, we’ll find him,” Sky assured me, but she was hundreds of miles away. Lukas with her, one of the few people I would have trusted to take over the search. But he too had fallen apart the last time. “Lukas is going to try his phone. Do a trace. He set that up before you guys left. Has both of your phones set to trace.”
“Already tried calling. He didn’t answer,” I said with my face in my knees. I trembled, the phone sweaty against my ear as the evening was warm and humid, unusual for so late in the year. My heart pounded in my chest and I traced the cracks in the ground with my gaze, trying to find anything other than the panic to guide me.
My phone buzzed, notice of a text. I pulled it from my ear to click over to the texts, maybe it was Alex. It wasn’t. Instead the unknown number again. I flipped it open and frowned at a long slew of texts from a number and area code I didn’t recognize.
You shouldn’t have hurt her.
Your cruelty knows no bounds.
We were supposed to all be together again.
Why are your feelings more important than ours?
You don’t get to make demands of us.
We didn’t ask for much.
Why is he more important than us?
You swore we were friends.
Was this Freya? Maybe some hidden phone she had? A twisted personality or something? Us? We? Who was we?
You can’t have it all.
We all give up things we love to succeed.
Sacrifices are necessary sometimes.
My heart skipped a beat. Had whoever this was, hurt Alex?
I texted back: Did you take him?
There was no immediate answer. I heard Sky calling for me and flipped the phone
to speaker. “Micah?” She sounded panicked now.
“Someone texted me,” I said. My mind raced with a million possibilities. Maybe it hadn’t been the shadow that had taken him this time. Maybe, like he’d mentioned before, it was some sort of human monster. “Maybe someone took Alex? I don’t know the number. They wrote ‘Sacrifices are necessary sometimes.’” I trembled at the idea that this was all my fault. What if this killer took Alex and hurt him because I wasn’t doing what they wanted? I’d dragged him here, into this mess with a group I didn’t really know anymore. Had I ever? What kind of insanity was that?
Lukas was back on the line. “Read me the number so I can trace it,” he demanded.
I did, feeling more like a robot than a person. A thick breeze began to chill my skin. I could almost feel something watching me. The heavy weight of doom lingering in the distance. Familiar and yet different. What was it Alex said to me before. Not my demon, his. Was this his demon? Out there watching me? Was that why it felt different and rewarded me with silence instead of terrifying noises?
Those nights when I sat outside my flat waiting for him, searching for him, sometimes I’d felt this way. Like an animal in a snare waiting for the predator to come and end it all. Except it never happened. I’d cried myself to sleep at night wondering how he’d survived a year on the streets and mental wards to be stolen from me in a short few days.
A text came back from the unknown number: Yes.
Fuck!
I texted back: Take me instead. It’s me you’re angry with. Me who did you wrong. I will pay the price. Where are you?
The eerie night silence lingered for far too long. No reply. I waited and waited, heart pounding. I needed him back.
“Micah?” Lukas called.
I watched for a text. “I’m here.”
“I’ve got a trace going on all of you. I called the detective there, Manning. He didn’t answer, but I left a message. I need you to stay somewhere he can find you.”
The text bubble popped up on my phone. They were writing a reply. Instead of a text, a link appeared in the window indicating it was a map. I sucked in air as I clicked it and it pulled up my direction app. Too far to walk, I’d have to drive. I headed toward the car.
“Micah?” Lukas demanded.
“That number sent me a map,” I said.
“Forward it to me so I can send it to the detective. Do not go there.”
“They have Alex,” I said as I got in the car and plugged the phone into the computerized console.
“And are dangerous. Micah! Be reasonable. What will you do to stop them? You’re not a secret ninja or anything. Just because you dress up as one sometimes, does not mean you’re a hero.”
Ouch. That stung more than I thought it should. But that was part of it, wasn’t it? Why I ran around New Orleans following ghost stories, and played with things most other people avoided. Not for a lack of fear, but because I felt like a coward. That was a virtual kick to the nuts of reality. I clung to Alex because he wasn’t afraid of all the things that terrified me. And no matter how much I might pretend that it was all nothing, I still trembled in terror at night when the noises began.
Fucking noises. Nothing but sound. I’d wished to be deaf sometimes, when the screaming started, or Jet walked agitated around my apartment while I tried to block out the terror with a craft. All leading back to one event.
Something had taken me, holding me for months and doing who knows what. Then I’d returned home to a life shattered and tormented by stupid night noises. I spent my evenings terrified, hiding, cowering in the corner of my home. How useless was I?
I backed the car out of the parking spot and headed toward the lot entrance to a flurry of chatter over the line. It was the least I could do, right? If someone was angry at Alex, wanted to hurt him because I’d left the group, that was on me. Cowering in the hotel room would not save him.
“I’m tracing your phone, Micah,” Lukas warned. “If I have to send every cop in the state of Texas after you, I will.”
“Good. Maybe they’ll save Alex,” I grumbled into the otherwise silence of the car. It was a short trip on the highway, then off a side road, toward the state park, which made my pulse race. That was the last thing I wanted. Wandering in some national park alone at night. Lukas and Sky chattered through the phone, though I turned them down until I couldn’t hear more than the tone of their voices. Sky was trying to soothe, and Lukas was ranting. I didn’t need either of their comments right at that moment. Terror rolled through my veins, even as my brain demanded courage. It was very contrary and frustrating. So many memories and thoughts at once, it was a wonder I could stay on the road. I glanced in the rearview mirror and almost ran off the road.
I slammed on the brakes and pulled over to suck in air and stare into the reflection. Slowly I turned my head, hoping it was just a trick of light, perhaps a play of the headlights over the highway. But no, it wasn’t.
There was a fluffy white cat sitting on top of the covered sewing machine like it didn’t have a care in the world. It didn’t look like a ghost. Everything about it looked 100% legit, fur, blinking eyes, twitching ears, and all.
I gasped, trying to breathe for a minute. Then whispered, “Precious?”
The cat’s head turned my way, glowing orange eyes meeting mine. Its tail flicked a few times before it turned away and stared at the backseat. Was something else in the car? My stomach heaved and I stared at the spot too, expecting something to appear. Only nothing did.
The GPS droned on about getting back on the road. I let out a long sigh of air and pulled back out onto the road.
“Micah?” I heard Lukas again, but was annoyed so I hung up on him. Alex was missing. There was a fucking ghost cat in the car. And a possible psycho killer was directing me to a state park. Did the presence of the cat mean it was Freya? Could the night get any worse?
Chapter 28
The lot the GPS directed me to wasn’t the main entrance of Sam Houston State Park, it was one of those outlying road stops, with little more than a dirt parking spot. No other cars were in the lot and there were no streetlights nearby, just my headlights. I sat in the car staring out into the woods for a minute.
Was that a light in the distance? Was that Alex? I turned off the headlights and put the key in my pocket. Even taking a second to unplug my phone. Had to turn the sound off since Lukas kept calling, and texts began to roll in from Sky. Nothing from the person who sent me the map.
I got out of the car, slamming the door and locking it. For a second I glanced back inside to see if the cat was still there, and it was. Only it wasn’t alone now. A child sat in the backseat, only half illuminated and semi-translucent, by the pale moonlight.
It stared forward into the trees, blank, lifeless looking, and absently stroking the back of the cat. Something out of a horror movie. Eyes nothing but black voids.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I stumbled backwards, falling on my ass and breathing hard, expecting it to follow me, or suddenly appear beside me. Only it didn’t, and when I got up and could see back into the car, both the child and the cat were gone.
I trembled and sucked in air, the smell of pine, dirt, and leaves eerily familiar. In the distance there was a faint light. It didn’t move, change or shake. Perhaps it was another parking lot.
Or Alex.
Or the killer.
I balled my hands up into fists, gripping my phone in one and ready to turn the flashlight on at a second’s notice, then made my way into the darkness.
There was something about the dark, stretching distance of woods at night that really messed with a person’s senses. Shifts in noise, owls, rustling leaves, branches, all of it echoed into the darkness in a roll that didn’t seem to really provide direction. I did my best to not trample through the brush like I was marching to my death. I also didn’t text the unknown person back to let them know I had arrived. No need to give them a chance to randomly shoot me or something before I even got close. Was Alex here so
mewhere?
I tried his phone again, a text, and then calling, hoping I’d hear the ring. Only there was nothing. Just the wind and a vaguely increasing sense of doom. It took a few minutes and a half dozen meters of distance to realize it wasn’t anxiety projecting that feeling in my gut, the heaviness was back. Warning bells inside my head screamed I wasn’t alone, something was watching me.
Twice I glanced back and thought I’d seen the child again, only to freeze, double check, and find nothing there.
“I’m going insane,” I whispered mostly to myself. “Going, ha, already there.” Coming here, following the directions of some unknown who might be a murderer, that was insanity. I should have stayed at the hotel. Waited for Manning or some other cops to arrive. Lukas would have gotten them moving, even if they’d have brushed me off. I tried to convince myself that doing this meant I wasn’t a coward. But that was a lie. I was really good at running away. It’s why my relationships didn’t last, and I never lived in one place for long, hard to run away with commitments.
A branch cracked somewhere nearby, making me pause and search the darkness. At least my eyes were mostly adjusted to the low light. However, it meant that wind moving brush made everything look like shadows. After a minute or so of nothing else, I began forward again. That distant light still not moving.
Several horrible thoughts flickered through my overactive brain. What if Alex was already dead? What if that light up ahead was just his body laid out for me to see? What if Freya had taken him, slaughtered him, and planned to do the same to me? Even if I escaped, I’d never trust again. It sounded like a long and lonely life to live. I had to pause, focus on my breathing for another minute or two, before pushing myself forward.
Not far from the light, perhaps a couple dozen meters, my skin began to prickle like ants crawled across it, fire trailing across my skin in a thousand needle pricks. Alex would have seen it, whatever it was. All I got were a million tiny cuts that made me feel like I should have been oozing blood. I stared out into the dark edges of the woods and the distant trees, almost demanding to see something, anything that would explain how I felt. Even face-to-face with that monstrous nightmare Alex had called Death would have been a more welcome sight than the vast stretch of nothing.