The Hollows(65)

The crow-man – surely Greg – pulled her through the doorway into a room that was even darker.

He let go. She couldn’t see anything.

And then he turned on a flashlight and reached down to grasp something at his feet.

Lifted a hatch in the floor.

She backed away. ‘No, please, no.’ But Buddy was behind her, and he took hold of her, stopped her from getting away.

The man got up and turned towards her. She could see the whites of his eyes through the holes in the mask.

‘Do it,’ he said, his voice muffled by the rubber mask.

Buddy shoved her.

She fell through the hole in the floor.





PART THREE





Chapter 36


I ran up the front steps of our cabin, fumbled for my keys, dropped them. I finally got the door open and pushed it so it banged against the inside wall. Behind me, Nikki melted away into the darkness.

I went inside. ‘Frankie?’ I called.

I ran into her bedroom, then my bedroom, the bathroom. I stood in the living area and looked around, stupidly, hopelessly, mind racing and whirling. Where was she?

Why had Nikki said she was sorry?

Sorry for what?

And then I saw it, on the couch. A white envelope.

I approached it tentatively, as if it were a bomb, or like it might be filled with anthrax, and opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded in half. A note, written in a lurching scrawl.

Frankie is safe.

Do not call the police.

Do not talk to anyone.

Ignore these instructions and you’ll never find her body.

More instructions tomorrow.

I read the note three times, ten times. I turned the paper over, searching for more words, but there were none.

I think I was in shock, unable to take all this in. Oh God, why had I left Frankie on her own? Why had I trusted Nikki? I had told Frankie to lock the door, but then it struck me: Greg had keys to all the cabins. That was how Buddy and Darlene had got into Donna and Tamara’s. They must have let themselves into my cabin and waited for Frankie. Why hadn’t I thought about that before?

But even as I tormented myself with regret, I realised something else. Something more important. This was no time to go to pieces. Frankie needed me. I had to stay strong. Strong and calm.

Which wasn’t easy.

You’ll never find her body.

Somebody banged on the door and I almost hit the ceiling. Nikki?

Then a male voice.

‘Tom? Are you there?’

I rushed to the door and opened it. It was David.

‘Oh, hi man,’ he said. ‘Is Ryan in there?’

I shook my head.

‘Huh.’ He turned to look back at his cabin. I could see Connie on the porch, with someone else beside her. Neal Fredericks, I realised. A few people were walking along the path, heading home from the party. Most of them looked happy and drunk. I was finding it hard to remember what happiness felt like. I wanted to be able to rewind time to the point where I had left Frankie alone here.

‘Is he not in your cabin?’ I asked.

‘No. Can you ask Frankie if she’s seen him?’

‘She’s not here.’ I said it without thinking.

‘Oh.’ I could see the thoughts running through his head. Like he was trying to decide how worried he should be.

Really fucking worried, I wanted to tell him. Terrified.

Did the person who had Frankie have Ryan too? My first instinct was that they must be together, but had David and Connie not received a note like mine? Ryan hadn’t been in their cabin earlier, when I’d knocked.

‘Is he not there?’ Connie called.

‘No,’ David called back. He returned his attention to me.

‘What’s that?’ he asked.

‘Huh?’

‘In your hand.’

I realised I was still holding the note.

Do not talk to anyone. The last word had been underlined.

‘It’s nothing,’ I said. Could I act any more suspicious? ‘Just some notes for an article I’m writing.’

‘Ah. Okay. So . . . any idea where they might be?’

As he asked this, Connie came down the steps from their cabin and walked over to us. She was leaning heavily on her stick like she was in considerable pain. When she reached us, David said, ‘Tom hasn’t seen Ryan, and Frankie’s not here either.’

‘You think they’ve gone off together?’ Connie said, though I wasn’t sure if she was addressing me or her husband.

‘They must have,’ said David. He seemed to find this amusing. ‘That’s my boy.’

Did he not know that his son was gay? Didn’t Connie know either? It wasn’t my place, right now or ever, to tell them.

Connie checked her watch. ‘It’s just past eleven.’ She seemed far more worried than David. ‘He knows he should be back by now.’

‘I guess they lost track of time,’ David said.

Connie looked up at me. ‘What about Frankie? I assume she has a curfew?’

‘Yes . . .’ My mind was racing like I was playing a game of speed chess, trying to figure out my best moves. But there was something I badly needed to know. ‘Are you sure he didn’t leave you a note?’

They looked at each other. ‘I don’t think so,’ said Connie.