But first, I needed to talk to Nikki. To demand answers. With a final glance over my shoulder at my front door, I ran into the woods.
Every movement in the trees, every shadow, made me jump. I was convinced that someone was going to leap out at me, that Buddy and Darlene would appear in their masks, motionless on the path before me. On top of that, Nikki’s words about spirits kept coming back to me. These woods are haunted, I thought. Everything is alive. After that I was unable to shake the sensation that the trees and the rocks and all the dark spaces in between were watching me. Conspiring against me.
Soon I was back in Penance, running along the road to Main Street. The homeless man, Wyatt, was back in his spot beneath the statue. He raised his head as I passed but I ignored him and went straight over to the bookstore and the door to Nikki’s apartment.
I pressed the buzzer. Held my finger down on it and listened to it rasp within.
Nikki didn’t come to the door so I did it again.
‘Hey.’ It was Wyatt. ‘She’s not there.’
I crossed the street to him.
‘She went out,’ he said.
‘What time did she go out?’ I demanded.
‘Hey, chill,’ he said. ‘You look like you wanna kill someone. What happened? Did she sell you a book with the last page torn out or something?’
I took a deep breath. My sense of humour had vanished along with my daughter. ‘What time?’
‘Jesus, man. I’m not an information kiosk.’
Gritting my teeth, I said, ‘Can you please tell me what time Nikki went out?’
He shrugged. ‘Hours ago.’
‘And you’ve been sitting here all this time?’
‘Yep.’
So Nikki hadn’t come back here. That meant she had to be wherever Frankie was, didn’t it?
But where?
Where was my daughter?
Chapter 37
Frankie landed on something soft, then immediately rolled off it on to hard concrete. The side of her head banged against the floor, sending a shower of sparks through her vision. A moment later there was a thump and a cry as someone landed beside her.
Above her, the hatch was slammed shut, plunging her into pitch-darkness.
‘Ryan?’ she said.
He groaned.
‘Are you okay?’ She was whispering, though she wasn’t quite sure why.
‘I think so,’ he said, and his voice sounded much louder than it should have. She couldn’t see him; couldn’t see her own hand when she held it close to her face. This was utter darkness, the kind that your eyes never adjust to.
Gingerly, Frankie sat up and examined herself, patting her limbs and feeling her head. It throbbed but she couldn’t feel any blood. Nothing was broken. Nothing physical, at least. Right now, she felt like there was something broken inside her, as if she were a piece of elastic that had been stretched beyond its limit.
She was going to have to stop thinking like that. Better to think that she didn’t yet know where her limits were.
Better to hope she would never find them.
Ryan groaned again. She reached out and realised they’d both fallen on to a mattress. She guessed it had been placed there to break their fall, which was a good sign, surely. It meant he hadn’t wanted them to die.
Not yet, anyway.
‘Was it Greg?’ Ryan asked. ‘The guy in the mask? Was it him?’
He sounded like he was on the verge of a panic attack. She reached out for him and found him.
‘Stay calm,’ she whispered.
‘I’m trying.’ She heard him suck in a deep breath. ‘Jesus, it stinks down here. The air tastes bad.’
He was right. It was damp and stale, like rotting vegetation. It made her think of earth and worms; how she imagined the inside of a grave to smell.
‘Was it Greg?’ Ryan repeated.
‘It has to be. Right?’
Ryan didn’t reply for a few moments, then he said, ‘Sorry, I nodded. I forgot you can’t see me.’ He laughed, except it came out strangled, like a hiss. ‘I’m cold,’ he said. ‘It is cold down here, right? It’s not just me. Is it cold?’
It was a little cold. Certainly more so than above ground. But Frankie wondered if Ryan was going into shock. She thought back to the meditation classes they’d had at school. Some hippie woman had come in and taught them all about mindfulness and visualisation techniques.
‘Ryan, I want you to close your eyes and imagine you’re in a large space. A stadium.’
‘What? What are you—’
‘Just do it, okay? Trust me. Are you with me?’