Page 142 of Death is Familiar

Click. “The person you are trying to reach is not available. Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system.”

What did I expect to happen? Everyone had caller ID and I was calling from a random landline in the middle of nowhere.

I tried again.

“The person you are trying to reach is⁠—”

And again.

“The person⁠—”

Again, but this time I waited for the answering machine to pick up before saying, “Hi, Todd, it’s me, listen, I⁠—”

Click. Crap, I’d been cut off there was… there was a sharp intake of breath on the other line.

“Todd? Todd, if you’re there, grunt once if you can⁠—”

Grunt.

It was deep and perfect. My hands started to shake. “Listen, we’re…” I looked around and realized I didn’t have an exact address. The teen quickly filled in the blanks, and I relayed our location to Todd. “How soon can you get here?”

By the combination of sounds, I took it to mean three hours. Just three more hours, and I’d be closer to safety. Closer to home.

“And Todd, just you, okay? No team, no Jack.”

Nose exhale.

“Please.”

Silence.

“Todd, I’ll explain, but I⁠—"

There was some zipping and what sounded like the click of a door unlocking. Grunt.

“Thank you.”

There was a familiar grumble on the line before I hung up, which could only mean one thing:

Todd was coming for us.

33

We stayed in the restaurant a full forty-five minutes before it closed for the evening. Head swimming, I took a reluctant Three back to the woods skirting the parking lot. There we waited, out of sight, for Todd’s arrival. It was the only place we could hide in relative safety as the cluster of restaurants cleared out, and we lost our witness advantage.

But the more time passed, the more uneasy Three became. She paced. She hummed. She jumped at every little noise, every engine revving.

To her, the world had suddenly become very loud.

And I couldn’t say there wasn’t some small part of me that was happy Three was getting a taste of her own medicine.

But any contentment was replaced by the all-too-common unease that sunk into the core of my being. Night was cold, my clothes too rough. The muscles in my neck were sore and cramped. It hurt to look at the light, but I fixed my eyes on the illuminated pavement through the leaves, watching for signs of my miserable best friend’s arrival.

Dots danced like sprites in the periphery.

At some point, Three had curled into a ball, rubbing warmth into her limbs. “It’s so cold.”

Though I didn’t recall sitting, I too found myself on the ground, an arm outstretched. “Come here, Three.”