He’d told her to look for a small red trailer beyond the rear of what he’d called the backyard. She saw a few cars parked in a makeshift lot that she guessed could be called a front yard, but no people about.

Where was everybody? The whole area seemed so still and empty, as if holding its breath. Creepy. The idea of wandering about alone on foot did not at all appeal to her, so she drove around to the rear of the tent complex. There she found a battered old trailer whose once proud chrome skin was scarred, dented, and painted a dull red, sitting far behind the tents and the rest of the show vehicles.

Was this where Doug was hiding? She couldn’t see anyplace else that matched the description. Her heart bled for him. What had driven him to these extremes?

She parked her car nose-on to the side of the trailer and noticed that all the windows were boarded over. The door hung open. She called out as she stepped out and approached the dark opening.

“Doug?”

“Nadia!” His voice echoed faintly from the dark interior. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Doug, where are you?”

“Right inside. Come on in.”

She felt hackles rising. Something wasn’t right here. On the phone his voice had sounded perfectly fine. But here, without the filtering effects of wires and microwave transmissions, it sounded different. It sounded wrong. And then she realized that he had called her Nadia instead of his usual Nadj.

“Why can’t I see you, Doug?”

A pause, then, “I’m on the couch. I’d really love to meet you at the door but I’m… I’ve been injured.”

Doug… hurt…

Without thinking Nadia found herself dashing up the two rickety steps and fairly leaping through the door. She stopped inside, looking around, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The air was mildewy and close despite the open door. She heard a rattling, rustling movement to her left.

“Doug?”

“Right here, sweetie,” said his voice to her right—and from below.

She jumped at the sound and turned to see what she thought at first was a child, but then she noticed the mustache and the slicked-down hair. He looked like a midget from a barbershop quartet.

He grinned. “See ya later!”

Nadia watched in mind-numbed shock as the little man darted out the door.

His voice… he’d spoken in Doug’s voice.

She was just beginning to move, just going into a turn, when the trailer door slammed shut, plunging her into darkness.

“No!”

The cry was a strangled sound as fear took an instant icy grip on her throat, choking off her air. She threw herself against the door, hitting it with her shoulders, pounding on it, shouting.

“No! Please! Let me out! Help!”

But the door wouldn’t budge. She battered it and screamed for help even though she knew the trailer was too far from anything and anyone to hear her cries, but she kept it up until her voice was raw. Then she stopped shouting but kept pounding against the door, fighting the sobs that pushed up from her chest.