“Anything?”
“Sorry, Sadie. We haven’t heard from him.”
She hung up, disappointed.
In the ensuite bathroom, she downed a sleeping pill. Then she brushed her teeth and splashed cool water over her face. Groping blindly for a towel, she found one. Then she raised her head and hissed in a huge lungful of air.
A boy stood behind her.
“Sam!”
She whipped around, but there was only empty space.
“Sam? Where are you, baby?”
She wandered in her bedroom, listless and dead tired. Then she crumpled into bed and slipped into unconsciousness, her sleep haunted by disturbing visions.
Sam was standing just out of reach, surrounded by pitch-black shadows. At first, he appeared at a great distance. Then he moved forward. Behind him, the black void expanded, a tunnel racing to claim him. He peered over his shoulder, and when he turned back, the fear that radiated from his eyes almost made her heart stop beating.
“Hurry, Sam!” she screamed.
The blackness slithered over him and she ran toward him, but her legs were weighted down by some invisible, malevolent force. She was an arm’s length away when her knees buckled and she sank to the ground, crying out in anguish.
“Come back to me, Sam! I miss you.”
Sam leaned over her, his face a blur, and a flash freeze brushed her cheek. That’s when she bolted awake, her pulse beating furiously. She could have sworn that Sam had kissed her. When she touched her cheek, it felt damp.
By morning, she was sure that she had dreamt it all.
Either that or I’ve completely lost it.
A computerized version of Barney’s ‘I Love You’ song—Sam’s choice—interrupted her thoughts.
“Is this line tapped?”
Her hand shook. “I-I don’t think so.”
“I saw you on TV,” The Fog said. “You and your husband.”
“He shouldn’t have said those things,” she said quickly. “He didn’t mean it. Please, don’t hurt Sam because of it. I’m really, really sorry.”
There was a muffled moan, then the slam of a car door.
“So am I,” The Fog replied. “You know the Rafferty Tree Nursery, west of Beaumont?”
She held her breath. “Yes.”
“Sam’s waiting for you. Be here in half an hour. Alone.”
“Alone?” she repeated.
There was an impatient huff. “If I wanted to kill you, Sadie, I woulda done it that night. Oh, and in case I need to tell ya, no police.”
“Wait! I—”
The line went dead.
Relief flooded her. She was going to get Sam back.
She left a message on the answering machine for Philip. “I’ll be back soon. With Sam.”
She stared at the flashing message light for a moment.
Well, I’m not telling the police, but if he thinks I’m going to leave and not tell someone where I’m going, he’s definitely crazy.
The Rafferty Tree Nursery was a twenty-minute drive to the outer edge of south Edmonton. The family-owned business grew an assortment of trees and shrubs, with acres of wooded land stretching as far as the eye could see.
As she drove, she glimpsed her reflection in the rearview mirror. She was a mess. Her long black hair was dry and dull, and she couldn’t remember if she’d even brushed it that morning. The Mars-like craters under her eyes bespoke of little sleep and too much crying. Even the blue of her irises seemed washed out.
“You look like crap, Sadie O’Connell.”
But she knew it didn’t matter what she looked like, as long as she got Sam back. She could feel his life essence pulling her closer, urging her to step on the gas.
Hurry!
She turned down a side road, ignoring the ‘Private Property’ sign and the warning that the place didn’t open for the season for three more weeks. The eroded dirt road took her past the scraggly branches of deciduous trees—silver birch, trembling aspens and balsam poplars. The farther she drove, the more mature and thick the greenery became, until she was surrounded by a grove of lush, long-needled evergreens.
“Where are you?”
The road came to a dead end, so she parked the car and climbed out. Two footpaths led to either side of her. On the right, a red balloon hovered in the air, its string tied to the branch of a blue spruce. ‘This way,’ it seemed to beckon.
As she passed, she saw a slip of paper clipped to the string.
Snatching it up, she unfolded it.
YOU HAVE 5 MINUTES TO SAVE HIM!
A mix of adrenaline and terror kicked her into high gear.
She ran.
When a glint of metal caught her eye, she left the path and weaved between the trees, paying no attention to the brittle branches that plucked at her clothes and hair. Her legs pumped harder, faster, until they burned.
Up ahead a horn beeped.
She rounded a lodgepole pine and skidded to a halt ten yards from the back end of a rusted yellow Chevy. It was parked between two trees with its rear wheels raised on cement blocks. The heavy snow on the trunk and bumper indicated that the car had been there for a while, which was not surprising since she was farther into the nursery than customers were allowed.
She widely circled the car. Its side windows were grimy, the interior shadowed.
Then she saw him.
“Oh God.”
Sam was slumped over the steering wheel, still dressed in his pajamas, a Blue Jays baseball cap pulled low over his head. His mouth was bound with electrical tape.
“Sam!” she shouted.
He didn’t move.
Horrified, she raced toward the car.
A fateful mistake.
Her right foot hooked a thin metal wire before she could even comprehend what it was. From that second on, everything dissolved into a hellish nightmare and her entire world was blown off its axis. A deafening roar rocked the earth, throwing her to the ground while bits of searing metal ripped through the air.
“Nooooo!” she screamed.
A smoking, black wad landed near her outstretched hand.
Sam’s baseball cap.
The Fog had fulfilled his promise.
Sam.
“Oh Jesus, no!”
She scrambled to her feet, but a second explosion sent her flying backward through the air. Her head smacked against a rock. Sharp pain surged through her, over her, and when she touched the back of her head, her fingers came away covered in blood.
Consciousness faded in and out.
“Sam…”
Something floated above her.
The red balloon.
It hovered, then lifted into the smoke-filled sky, its thin string dangling beneath it.
She raised a quivering hand. “Come back.”
A devilish face blocked the light. In a blurred shadow, it leaned down and laughed at her, its breath rancid.
“Why?” she moaned.
“I always keep my promises,” it whispered.
Then Sadie slipped into oblivion.
15
“Can I come in?”
Dressed in uniform, Jay Lucas lingered in the doorway of the hospital room—a bouquet of drooping flowers in one hand, a drenched raincoat in the other.
Sadie guessed it wasn’t just a courtesy call. “Of course.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked, slipping the flowers into a water jug on the side table.
“Short of some scratches and a mild concussion, I’m… fine.”
And she was. Physically. Mentally was another story.
It had been two days since Philip had led the police to the nursery after hearing her message on the answering machine. They had discovered the smoldering wreckage of the car, and her unconscious body nearby.
She took a deep breath. “Did you find Sam?”
Jay shook his head.