Between the intermittent flashes and rumbles, the apartment was dark and eerily silent. Doug went to the kitchen for some candles. Once he had some light he'd hunt up his cell phone and give Nadj a call. He felt bad about neglecting her today.
He was searching through the miscellaneous drawer when he sensed—or thought he sensed—movement in the hallway. He stopped and squinted into the darkness. A lightning flash revealed nothing. He stepped down the hall and checked the apartment door—dead-bolted as always.
He decided the power failure plus the storm were giving him the creeps.
He went back to searching the drawer and finally found two half-consumed red candles, left over from the Christmastime dinner he and Nadj had shared last year. Now to find a match. One of the downsides to quitting smoking was that he never carried matches anymore.
But then he heard another sound above his rattling within the drawer… like a thump… from his bedroom.
Apprehension rippling across his back, Doug pulled a carving knife from the utensil drawer and stepped toward the bedroom.
"Somebody there?" he called, immediately thinking, What a stupid thing to say.
No reply—not that he'd expected one, and he'd have been shocked witless if anyone had answered. He assumed—prayed—that this was all nothing. It had better be. Because the knife was just for show. He wouldn't know what to do with it if he needed it. He didn't know a thing about fighting, wasn't sure he knew how to throw a punch, let alone stab someone.
He stepped into the bedroom.
"Hello?"
The shadows were deep here. And he noticed a faint musty odor that hadn't been present before. But it seemed empty…
Then lightning flashed, illuminating two hulking forms pressed against the wall.
With a cry, Doug spun and ran for the front door. A blast of thunder engulfed his cries.
"Help! Hel—!"
He plowed head-on into a third hulk in the hallway and bounced back—like running into a lightly padded concrete wall. Doug almost fell but managed to keep his balance. He turned but lightning silhouetted the two figures approaching from the bedroom.
"I've got a knife!" Doug cried, holding it up.
Something slapped hard against his hand and the knife went flying. He opened his mouth to cry for help but thick fingers clapped over his lips, sealing them. Two more hands grabbed his ankles and lifted him off the floor. Despite his struggles, he was completely helpless as they carried him toward the bedroom like a thrashing, unruly child.
Why? his panicked mind screamed as his bladder threatened to empty. Who are they? What are they? And why do they want me? I've never hurt anyone. Why should anyone—?
The hack! They couldn't be from GEM, could they?
They carried him into the bedroom but then stopped—froze was more like it. They pinned him to the floor and held him there. They seemed to be listening. For what?
And then Doug heard a tapping. It took him a moment to realize it was coming from down the hall. Someone was tapping on his door.
His blood congealed into icy lumps as he heard a familiar voice call his name.
"Doug? Doug, are you in there?"
Nadia! Oh, sweet Jesus, it was Nadia. And she had a key. If he didn't answer she was certain to use it.
Got to warn her!
Hoping to catch his captors off guard, Doug suddenly began kicking and twisting, furiously tunneling all his strength into wrenching his face free of the hand sealing his mouth. Had to warn her away, to run, call 911…
Whoever was holding his feet lost his grip on Doug's right ankle. Doug lashed out with his free foot but connected with his floor lamp instead. His foot was recaptured as the lamp hit the floor with a crash.
Triumph turned to horror as Doug realized the noise would bring Nadia in sooner. He screamed against the muffling fingers, but only a whimper escaped. And then he felt a pair of fingers squeeze his nose and seal his nostrils.
As Doug fought for air and struggled to hold onto consciousness, he heard Nadia calling from the far side of the door.
"Doug? Was that you?"
Too quickly her voice faded with his strength and awareness, and all became nothing…
12
"Doug, are you in there? Are you OK?"
Nadia had arrived at his door ready to give him a piece of her mind for staying incommunicado all day, but her pique was gone now.
Something's wrong, she thought as she clawed through her shoulder bag for her key ring.
She found it, fumbled Doug's key into the lock, and burst in.
But she stopped after one step. The place was completely dark.
"Doug?"
She found the light switch and flipped it but nothing happened. Leaving the door open so she'd have some light, Nadia walked down the short hallway to the front room. She found another wall switch and flipped that. Again, nothing.
Strange. The power was on in the hallway but seemed to be off in Doug's apartment.
She sniffed. What was that musty odor… like wet fur?
Nadia jumped as a flash of lightning lit the room and thunder rattled the windows. Creepy in here. She stepped back toward the hallway and used the light there to help her find her little penlight flash. She pressed the clip and frowned at the weak glow from the bulb. The batteries were just about dead, but they'd have to do.
She turned back toward the darkened apartment and hesitated. The smart thing would be to leave. If Doug was here, he would have answered.
But then, why wasn't he here? It was almost midnight.
She told herself he probably went out for a nightcap when his power failed, but she wouldn't feel right until she'd checked the apartment. And besides, she'd heard that sound, like something or someone falling. What if he'd tripped in the dark and hurt himself?
"If you're all right, Doug…" she muttered as she moved down the hall. "If you're perfectly fine and out enjoying yourself while I'm a worried wreck here searching your pitch-black apartment, I'm going to kill you."
She flashed the penlight's dim beam around the front room and found nothing out of place. Same with the second bedroom he used as an office. Odd to see his computer dark and dead. He hardly ever turned it off.
Nadia felt some of her prior annoyance creeping back as the penlight beam came to rest on Doug's phone. The least he could have done was check his voice mail before he went out. She idly lifted the receiver and put it to her ear.
Dead. That was odd.
Last stop was Doug's bedroom. The bed was unmade, but that was the rule rather than the exception, and everything looked pretty much the same as ever. Then what had made that noise? And why this deep cold apprehension gnawing through her? Why this vague feeling that she wasn't alone here?
Nadia moved toward the closet in his bedroom and had her hand on the doorknob when her penlight died. That does it, she thought with a sudden stab of plain old fear as another flash of lightning blazed through the bedroom window, casting weird shadows into the corners. I'm outta here.
But first… she moved back to the blessed light of the hallway and scribbled on the pad of sticky notes she kept in her bag: v
Doug—
I was here. Where was you?
Call me as soon as you get in.
Love.
N.
Nadia hurried to Doug's office, stuck the note to his monitor screen, then dashed back to the hall. As she closed the door and locked the bolt, she was plagued by the strange sensation that she'd missed something in there, something important.
MEMORIAL DAY
1
Nadia snatched up the phone on the first ring. "Doug?"
A heartbeat or two of silence on the other end. A throat cleared and then a familiar voice came over the wire, but not Doug's.