Chapters (68)
- Cover
- Dedication
- NOW
- One
- BEFORE
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- NOW
- Twenty-One
- BEFORE
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- NOW
- Thirty-Nine
- BEFORE
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- NOW
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- AFTER
- Fifty-Six
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
He strained to hear any sort of noise – a cry or plea for release. He imagined Natasha wouldn’t have come quietly, but there was nothing but the whisper of the wind, rippling through the branches and greenery that surrounded him.
The numbers on the garage doors were faded and peeling. They started at 14, going down sequentially. Soon, he was standing outside 2A, wishing he had a plan. He’d concentrated so hard on getting there that he hadn’t thought about what he would actually do when he arrived.
In the middle of the door was a handle, flat and cold to the touch. The wind picked up, whipping across him and sending a shiver down his spine. He reached out and tried it, pushing in the centre lock and pulling it.
It was locked.
He looked around for something, anything, that might give him some inspiration for what to do next. All the garages were connected, so there was no side window for access. He walked around, hoping for a way in at the back. The terrain was worse here, overgrown brambles and countryside trying to reclaim the land. When he finally made it to the back, he only found a brick wall.
There was no way in other than via the door.
He walked back round, considering his next move. He grabbed the handle and started banging against the door.
‘Is there anyone in there?’
His voice sounded odd in the silence. Filled with eagerness and fear. Now he was there, he realised how woefully out of his depth he was. He listened at the door, wondering if he’d already scared whoever was inside enough to do something stupid. He couldn’t hear anything.
‘Look, I just want to talk to you,’ he tried, hoping this time he sounded a little more authoritative. In his pocket, his phone buzzed again, insistent against his leg. ‘I just want to make sure she’s okay.’
Still no answer.
Mark stepped back, trying to work out what his next move should be. He was lost, his brain insisting he do something, but not giving him a clue what that something should be. The buildings were old, under his feet the ground dirty and unkempt.
His phone buzzed again. He took it from his pocket, resigning himself to the fact he couldn’t do this alone. That he’d have to call it in and try to explain what he was doing. The screen illuminated in the darkness, a withheld number calling him.
Mark swiped a finger across the screen, answering the call. Knowing who it was.
‘THANK YOU FOR COMING. PLEASE COME INSIDE. THE KEY IS UNDER THE MAT. WIPE YOUR FEET BEFORE ENTERING. SHE’S WAITING FOR YOU.’