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Back Gone Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. Acknowledgements
  75. Reading Group Questions
  76. Read More
  77. I

Bloom read the last line again. Was that the orchestrator’s motive? To find more of their own kind. Could that be the reason for this game? Not a crime or a menacing plot, but simply the basic human need – as true for a psychopath as for anyone else – to avoid loneliness?

57

Jameson sat in the hallway outside Sarah’s hotel room with his back to the wall and his eyes closed. The migraine battered his brain with splinters of pain and the only way he could handle it was to remain very still. He should be on a train to Manchester. He should be trying to find Jane. If they released her, he should be there to meet her. Who knew what kind of trauma she’d experienced over the past week? She’d want a familiar face and he could be there in half the time it would take Claire. But he couldn’t move. He felt physically and emotionally incapable.

It took him a few seconds to distinguish the vibrating of his phone in his pocket from the pulsating throb in his head.

‘Jameson,’ he answered, keeping his head still and his eyes firmly shut.

‘It’s me.’ Bloom sounded anxious.

‘I’m banking on you knowing what you’re doing, Augusta.’

She said nothing for a second and then muttered, ‘Me too.’

‘There’s been no reply,’ he said.

‘No.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Great.’ He squeezed his eyes tighter, but somehow the daylight still seeped in.

‘I think Seraphine’s behind this.’

Jameson opened his eyes. ‘What?’

‘I had to select between a normal person and the psychopaths. I think Seraphine wants to know if I still believe a psychopath’s life is worth as much as anyone else’s.’

‘That makes no sense. Jane’s not a psychopath and she’s in the group, and Seraphine Walker is dead.’

‘No. Jane comes with Lana; she’s part of the package.’

‘Part of the package? Are you kidding me? And Seraphine Walker? You’re gambling Sarah’s life on the idea of a resurrected teen psychopath?’ Jameson took a deep breath. This was making his migraine worse.

‘I don’t think she’s dead, that’s the thing.’

‘I got that.’ Jameson closed his eyes again. ‘Shit, Augusta, that’s one hell of a leap. I thought you said this was an organized group.’

‘I know.’

‘So you’ve just forgotten that because it doesn’t fit your latest theory? I’m sorry. I can’t talk about this any more.’

He hung up.

58

Jane walked along clutching the piece of paper with the address. She reached a large semi-detached house with a red-brick porch over its front door and a fancy car in the driveway. Why would her mum be here?