Into The Fog E-Book

Michelle Godard-Richer

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Ice fog descends upon Dickens, Alberta, growing thicker and thicker until Heidi Crawford can no longer see the coniferous forest and snow-capped mountains outside the windows of her Jeep. A huge four-legged shape moves in the mist. She slams on the brakes and squeezes her eyes shut.

When Heidi opens her eyes, the fog is gone, but so is her life as she knows it. Instead of forest and snow, she’s on a single street in a tiny town, trapped in a scorching hot desert away from her daughter Emma. And she isn’t alone. Fifteen strangers are trapped in Ghost Town and soon, they begin disappearing, one by one.

Michelle Godard-Richer's INTO THE FOG is an unputdownable, chilling isolation thriller about a single mother separated from her daughter and trapped with fourteen strangers — one of whom is a killer.

Leseprobe

Into The Fog

Michelle Godard-Richer

Contents

Other Titles by Michelle Godard-Richer

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2023 Michelle Godard-Richer

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2023 by Next Chapter

Published 2023 by Next Chapter

Edited by Tyler Colins

Cover art by Lordan June Pinote

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

Other Titles by Michelle Godard-Richer

The Fatal Series:

Fatal Hunt

Fatal Witness

Fatal Stand (Coming Soon)

The Hinchcliffe Sisters:

Back in Time with Jelly Beans

Forward in Time with Jelly Beans

Friday the 13th Collection:

Avenging Angel

Spine Chilling

To Shane, Victoria, and Mason

Prologue

Beneath a blanket of stars and a full moon, Heidi Crawford sat in a lounge chair in front of a roaring campfire. Despite the warmth emanating from the tall flames, she had a black and red plaid blanket covering her lap against the chill in the late summer air.

Under the cover of night, the black mountains on the horizon gave off a sense of foreboding, stirring creative ideas of betrayal and murder for her next book. She’d signed her first book deal a week ago—a dream come true. And the natural high and excitement fueled new ideas. If luck was on her side, and her book sold well, she’d be able to quit her admin job at the local jail.

Her boyfriend Brent’s idea of celebrating was to find a secluded spot in the forest and pitch a tent. He kneeled in front of the fire and poked it with a stick. “Isn’t this nice?” His dark hair was getting long enough to show his natural, unruly waves. She found it sexy, but he hated wrestling the waves into place. Guaranteed he’d get it cut soon.

“Yes. Thank you for planning this.”

The fire crackled and embers lit the air around them. A spark landed on her lap and made a tiny hole in her new blanket, and she frowned. Camping was more his thing, but she appreciated the effort.

Before trekking into the woods, he’d taken her to dinner at a fancy steakhouse. She didn’t have much appetite lately, but it was a sweet gesture. How would he react to the news once she told him? “What do you think of a murder mystery about a couple camping in the woods? Maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend has been secretly stalking them and decides to kill the guy and kidnap the woman. I’d have to come up with an astute detective to piece it all together.”

He chuckled. “Great creepy campfire story. You don’t have any crazy exes, do you?”

“I hope not. But I guess you never know.”

He settled into the chair beside her and held her hand. “It sounds like a winning story idea. I hope your writing turns into a career. I hate the idea of you working with criminals. Why don’t you just quit your job? Your parents love having you at home.”

“Because I don’t only have me to think about.”

“What do you mean? My construction business is starting to take off. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She took a deep breath and blurted out the secret she’d kept for the past few weeks. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

“Oh, wow!” His eyes grew wide, but a smile rested on his lips. “I always thought we’d be married first.”

“I know. Me too.”

He scooted his chair closer to hers and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “We can remedy that. I’m sure we can throw together a small shotgun wedding.”

She gazed into his green eyes. “So, you’re happy about this? I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.”

“Of course, I’m happy. I love you, Precious.”

ChapterOne

Thirteen years later

Heidi hummed along to an upbeat country song on the radio as she parked along the curb in front of Dickens Middle School. She turned to face her whole world, her sweet twelve-year-old daughter. “Have a good day, Emma. See you after school.”

Rather than open the door, Emma lingered with furrowed brows. “Do I really have to go to school today, Mom?”

Heidi sighed and turned down the volume. The first two and a half months of school had passed without incident, giving her hope Emma would make it through the seventh grade without being bullied. Her daughter made good grades and was kind to others, but her lack of self-esteem made her an easy target.

The temptation to cave and let Emma stay home gnawed at her, but she couldn’t let Emma hide from her problems. “What happened, sweetie?”

“Candace and Tiff are at it again. Making fun of my clothes, poking me during class with their pens, knocking books off my desk. You know, the usual.”

“I thought things had gotten better since last year.”

“There’s this new girl, Sadie Myers. She just moved to town in August. So obviously they went after her first. Fresh blood and all, right?”

“Of course. That’s what bullies do. Let me guess. You’ve made friends with Sadie, so now they’re picking on both of you.”

“How’d you know?”

“You’re a sweet, kindhearted girl. It’s what you always do. I’m proud of you, Emma. I know it’s hard, but you can’t let those girls get to you. Ignore them. Pretend they don’t exist. If they don’t get a rise out of you, they’ll give up.”

Emma picked at a loose string on her mitten. “Easy for you to say.”

“Do you want me to talk to the principal or your teacher? Talking to those girls’ parents over the summer clearly didn’t help.”

Emma straightened and her eyes widened. “Omigod! You talked to their parents? Please, don’t talk to the teacher. You’ll only make it worse.”

Emailing Emma’s teacher to find a discreet way to deal with the situation moved to the top of Heidi’s to-do list. “Okay, but staying home isn’t the answer either. What will Sadie do without you?”

Emma gazed down at her UGG booties, her auburn, unruly curls falling around her face. “I know.”

Heidi reached across the seat, looped a curly lock around her daughter’s ear, and touched her cheek. “Tell you what. We’ll go on a shopping trip to the city this weekend and get you some new clothes.”

Emma perked up. “Really? Can we afford it?”

“I just got my royalty payment from my publisher. Besides, money is for me to juggle. You just worry about keeping up your good grades.”

“Thanks, Mom. Can Sadie and her mom come?”

“Sure, invite them. I’d love to meet your new friend and her mother.”

Emma opened the door, and a blast of cold air blew inside the Jeep. With one foot outside, she glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the best. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.”

Heidi’s heart clenched as her little girl walked into school looking down at her feet the whole way, making her slight frame appear even smaller.

What is it going to take to get my baby to keep her head up?

A horn blasted behind her. Heidi jumped and banged her head on the roof of the Jeep.

Ouch.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at the car behind her and rolled her eyes. Of course, the horn honker would be Candace’s father, Vaughn Crowley, the former star captain of the high school hockey team. He still seemed to think of himself as the king of their small town.

She grasped the door handle and debated getting out and giving him a piece of her mind, but it would only make things worse for Emma. Shaking her head, she clutched the steering wheel, and resisted the urge to flip him the bird as she drove off.

Heidi had planned to grab a few things at the general store on Main Street, but that could wait. Home, hot coffee, and her computer beckoned so she could send that email to Emma’s teacher. When problems arose, she preferred to face them head-on. Having known Emma’s teacher, Sarah Stoddart, since they were in kindergarten together, Heidi sensed a strong nudge would be needed to effect change. Sarah avoided confrontation and would turn a blind eye to the things Emma described.

A layer of ice fog that had been building on the way to school had grown much thicker during the time she’d spent talking to Emma. The town of Dickens rested in a valley of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta, trapping moisture in dangerous icy pockets of air.

Heidi could no longer make out the snow-capped mountains looming on either side of her, nor the tall coniferous trees covering them. With the Jeep’s fog lights barely piercing the mist, she leaned forward, trying to make out the center line on the range road. A dangerous sheen sparkled on the pavement, but her four-wheel drive was engaged, and the winter tires were on.

Only five more kilometers to go.

Heidi knew this road and all its hills, having lived in Dickens her whole life in the same log home she now occupied with Emma. The largest of the hills on her route lay ahead. The Jeep crested to the top, then began its descent. Heidi held her foot on the brake to maintain her speed. On the side of the road ahead of her, a large four-legged shape moved through the mist.

Heidi slammed the brake pedal to the floor.The Jeep slowed, skidding as her tires scrambled for purchase on the ice. As she skidded, the fog thickened, until all she could see was white. She pumped the brakes but continued to slide. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she clenched the steering wheel.

Please, please stop.

Ramming into a moose or a bighorn sheep, even at a slow speed, could be fatal.

Finally, her momentum slowed, and the Jeep ground to a halt.

The fog swirled, then thinned, lifting from the ground inch by inch until the sky swallowed it up. But instead of revealing the few kilometers of mountainous forest leading to her homestead, Heidi found herself in the middle of a road that dead-ended in both directions. Unfamiliar brown brick buildings lined either side.

Even more bizarre, the sun shone in a cloudless sky and a snowless, brown desert stretched for miles. Cacti as tall as trees surrounded her instead of spruce. She turned off the ignition.

This can’t be real. She squeezed her eyes shut.

ChapterTwo

The air inside the Jeep grew warmer by the second. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and her palms moistened in her gloves.

An unfamiliar man around her age stared at her through the driver’s window, then tapped on the glass beside her head. A black apron hung from his neck, over a white tee and jeans.

She rolled down the window. A warm breeze ruffled the loose strands of hair that had escaped her messy bun. Maybe he would know where the heck she’d ended up and the way home.

He leaned on the Jeep and lowered his head to face her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks. A bit lost though, I’m afraid. What is this place?”

He pointed to the building behind him. “Ghost Town. Come into the diner. I’ll explain.” His tone was even and nonchalant, as if strangers wandered into this middle-of-nowhere town on a regular basis.

She shifted her head to gaze around his shoulder as she peeled off her sweaty gloves. A faded wooden sign reading Ghost Diner hung over the door. “Wish I could, but I need to be getting home. If you could just point me in the right direction.”

“Like I said, come inside, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Okay. Give me a minute.” Google maps, I’m counting on you.

“Meet me in there. I’ll make a pitcher of iced tea and rustle up some food.”

Heidi switched on the air conditioning, then pulled over to the curb. She dug her iPhone out of her purse and touched the maps icon. The screen flashed “no connection”.

Oh, come on!

She looked at the upper left corner. No bars. Maybe if she walked farther up the road, she’d get reception. The minute she shut off the engine, the air inside the Jeep heated to the point of being unbearable. Heidi climbed out and spun in a circle, trying to get her bearings. The sun beat down on her head.

My God, it’s hot. How could I have ended up somewhere so summery near my house in late fall?

She didn’t remember taking an unexpected turn, but with the fog being so thick, maybe she had. There had to be a logical explanation.

Her temples throbbed. She dug around in her purse for her sunglasses and slid them on her face. No longer able to bear the suffocating warmth, she slipped out of her black parka and threw it inside the Jeep. Her pale skin, which Emma had inherited, tended to burn easily, making her reluctant to take off her cardigan. At least it was cotton and not wool. The soles of her feet burned already, but she couldn’t shed her winter boots either.

The sooner she got out of the sun, the better. Before she crossed to the diner, she glanced up and down the street that started and ended in a span of a few hundred feet. Her vehicle was the only one around. Despite the heat, she shivered. Something was off about this place.

She locked the Jeep and stowed her keys in her purse. If that man hadn’t approached, she would’ve assumed it was a ghost town. It wasn’t hard to surmise where the name of the diner had originated from.

Bells jingled as she pushed open the wooden door and welcome cold air blasted her face. She lifted her sunglasses onto the top of her head. A hush descended as fifteen people seated around round, well-worn wooden tables stopped talking and turned to face her. It wasn’t a ghost town after all.

Heidi froze and clutched her hands together. A bead of sweat dripped down her neck under their scrutiny. No one greeted her or offered a seat. They just stared, not with malice, or even interest, more like indifference.

The kitchen door swung open, and the man who’d approached her in the street came out with a plate of food and a glass of dark liquid she assumed was the promised tea. “Follow me. There’s an empty table in the corner we save for newbies.”

Newbies? “Okay.” As she followed him to the corner, the others ignored them and returned their attention to their food, a small relief in the grand scheme of things.

She sat with her back facing the crowd and peered out the window beside their table. The same expanse of desert covered the land as far as the eye could see, except for a dusty, red, beat-up pickup truck parked behind the restaurant. No streets. Her pulse drummed in her ears. She dug her phone out of her purse. No bars.

A steaming plate of eggs, bacon, and shredded hash browns clanged on the table in front of her. “Eat up.”

Heidi stared at the plate of food with no desire to eat. “Um. Thanks.” She picked up the glass in front of her and took a swallow of tea. The lemony, sweet, but not too sweet liquid relieved the burning in her throat. “That’s better. Now, could you please tell me how to get out of here? Mister … sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Dustin. Never mind the mister. And you are?”

“Heidi.”

“Nice to meet you, Heidi.”

“You, too. Do you have a map by any chance? Maybe Wi-Fi? Internet?”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this. No point.” He planted his elbows on the table and met her eyes. “There’s no way out, no internet, and no connection to the outside world. You’re trapped here until it’s your time to leave. Every so often, people vanish from here the same way they appear. Out of nowhere.” He swept his arm around the room. “We’re all stuck.”

She searched his brown eyes for a sign it was all a joke. “People don’t just appear, then disappear. They must’ve found a way out.”

“No. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve literally watched the person in front of me fade away.”

“Uh-huh.” What he said couldn’t possibly be true. Dustin must’ve had one too many at the saloon or hit his head. If there was a way in, then there had to be a way out. With an all-terrain vehicle, she could find a way out if anyone could. But what if she couldn’t?

Oh, Emma. Emma’s father had taken off years earlier. Who would take care of her? Surely someone would call her parents on Vancouver Island. Her head spun and stars clouded her vision.

A hand gripped her arm and snapped her train of thought. She glanced at Dustin’s hand on her sleeve. “Steady there. Drink more tea. You’re pasty white. It’s the shock.”

She picked up the glass and chugged the rest of her drink. The room righted itself. “Sorry. I feel better now. Still headachy.”

“Don’t apologize. We’ve all been there. Now, eat. Trust me. You’ll feel better. I’ll get more tea and some pain relievers.”

She nodded and picked up her fork. Food was fuel, exactly what she needed to assess this whole situation. A few bites of well-seasoned, delicious, scrambled eggs later, her appetite returned, and she devoured the rest of the food.

Dustin set her drink in front of her along with a few red Tylenols.

She tossed the pills in her mouth and rinsed them down with the tea. “Thanks for breakfast and the pills. I should head out. What do I owe you?”

“Slow down. What’s the rush? You almost fainted earlier.”

“I have to try to get out of here. Is there a gas station?”

“No. What you see on this street is what you get. The other side of the street is all housing. On this side, we have the diner, the saloon, a grocery store, a laundromat, and a general store. That’s it.”

She pointed out the window. “How have you been gassing that truck?”

“It’s out of gas. Listen, since I’ve been here, four groups of people have tried the desert— headed north, south, east, and west. They all drove in different directions until they ran out of gas and had to hike back.”

“They found nothing? No sign of people at all?”

He shook his head in response, a pained expression on his face.

“Where are you getting food and supplies?”

“That’s the most peculiar thing about this place. The fridge and freezer refill themselves overnight, as do the shelves in the stores. And there’s electricity and plumbing, yet no source for either.”

“Really. That is odd.” Power lines and pipes travel underground. There must be an explanation. She kept her opinions to herself. The best way to get people to talk was to act like you believed what they were saying. “How did we all get here?”

“You don’t remember? Occasionally, people have no idea what they were doing before they ended up here.”

“I do. I was driving through thick ice fog on the road home. The last thing I saw was a massive shape with four legs on the side of the road. I closed my eyes and slammed on the brakes. When I opened my eyes, I was here.”

“That’s interesting. Ice fog.”

She sipped her tea and shifted to get comfortable in her chair, intending to gather as much information as she could. “How’d you get here?”

He cleared his throat and glanced left. “I fell asleep in my bed, then woke up here. It was night, and I was lying in the middle of the road.”

Hmmm. I think there’s more to that story. “So, not everyone arrives by vehicle?”

“No. The majority don’t.” He stood. “There’s a town record filled with stories of how everyone came to arrive, along with names and dates of all who’ve been here. You can borrow it. Oh, and I’ll get you a set of keys for an apartment across the street.”

“But …” she said to his retreating back. I’m not staying.

She’d ascertained from their conversation that no one had tried driving northeast, northwest, southwest, or southeast. She had almost a full tank of gas, but she didn’t want to guess blindly. With no gas station, that one tank was her only chance to get home.

The best way to make an educated guess would be to conduct research and gather information the same way she would before drafting one of her mystery novels. Unfortunately, that would require the one thing she didn’t have: time. Emma needed her, but Heidi had no other option. She’d have to stay awhile with a glaring obstacle in her path: how to find a way out when no one knew the way in.

A large, worn, leatherbound book thudded on the table in front of her. Dustin set a keychain on top of it. “Bring it back to me when you’re done. You’re in number ten. It’s the unit closest to your Jeep. Another woman about your size lived there a few months back. I left her stuff there. Help yourself to whatever you need in the stores.”

“Do you have time to answer more questions?”

“Sorry, no. I have to get prep done for lunch.”

“When can we talk?”

“Meet me at the saloon tonight around eight.”

I’m trapped in a bad Western. “Okay. Wait, what do I owe you?”

“Nothing. No one owns this place and everything’s free. No need for money.”

He walked away, leaving her with her thoughts, and a whole lot of unanswered questions. She stroked her hand across the worn leather of the book in front of her. Please let there be answers in here.

ChapterThree

Heidi’s mind wanted to go in a bunch of directions and panic, following the threads of errant thoughts after all she’d learned. But she honed in on her main goal: getting home to Emma. With multiple sets of eyes digging into her back, concentrating would be impossible. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stood, collected her key and the ledger, then headed for the door.

A stern voice stopped her halfway to the door. “Now hold on a minute, new lady.”

Heidi turned. “You mean me? My name is Heidi.”

A middle-aged woman with grey at her temples stared daggers at her. “Yes, you. Bring your dishes to the kitchen and load them in the dishwasher. No one here’s getting paid to pick up after you.”

Breaking rules and offending people already. Fantastic. “Sorry. I’ll do it right away.”

Dustin came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s okay, Heidi. Go on. I’ll take care of it.” He turned to face the woman who’d given her a tongue lashing. “Mabel, mind your manners. That’s the newbie table, remember? Newbies don’t clear their own dishes.”

Mabel huffed, ignored him, and started talking to the three other women her age at her table.

Heidi took that as her cue to leave. She pushed open the door, then cringed as the heat blasted her skin, and sweat dripped down the small of her back. Clutching the heavy volume to her chest, she crossed the street to her Jeep. With vehicles and gas being a hot commodity, she made sure her doors and gas cap were locked.

Behind her Jeep stood a long brownstone building divided into two-story townhouses, which extended from one corner of the dead-end street to the other. Each tiny unit had its own worn, wooden door and one window on each floor overlooking the diner and stores on the opposite side of the road. Upon closer inspection, she discovered a faded number ten on the unit closest to her vehicle.

The key turned in the well-used lock, and the flimsy door swung open with little effort. Dust bunnies rolled across the floor of the small, open living area, complete with a kitchenette, chair, and table. Besides the dust bunnies and the musty smell of stale air, things seemed tidy and cool.

Thank God for air conditioning. She placed the town ledger on the table, then kicked off her black leather boots, peeled off her socks, and wiggled her oxygen-starved, sweaty toes.

A bookcase angled in the corner by the window caught her attention. Books had been her favorite thing for as long as she could remember. She ran her hands along the spines of the paperbacks, stirring up dust. Familiar titles by popular authors like Stephen King, Iris Johansen, and Kelley Armstrong, filled the shelves. How had they manifested in the middle of nowhere?

She paused near the end of the top row and blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Yanking the book off the shelf, she stared at the cover of the first novel she’d ever written, Murder Aplenty. The spine was worn, and the pages were creased and dog-eared from use. So bizarre. She expected to encounter her novels at Walmart or a bookstore, but in what she suspected might be Hell—not in a million years. At least her book had provided enjoyment to someone else trapped in this bizarre desert.

She returned it to the shelf, then crossed the small room to the kitchenette. It had a bar fridge, a microwave, and a sink, which explained why everyone ate at the diner. Some unopened boxes of cereal stood in a cabinet beside the sink, along with half a can of coffee, sugar, and some coffee whitener. In the bar fridge, she discovered a bottle of water, a few cans of Coke, an open jar of pickles, and mustard. Slim pickings.

A trip to the store was in order, but first she wanted to see what was left behind on the upper floor. The bathroom was stocked better than the kitchen. And in the only bedroom, she discovered a single bed and a small closet. A handful of tees and shorts that were way too short for Heidi’s comfort hung in the closet. The shorts were a wash, but bless her heart, the previous lady had left behind flip-flops and running shoes Heidi’s size.

Heidi slipped her sweaty feet into the flip-flops and made a mental list of what she hoped to find at the stores. A notebook and pen would be useful for her research. Like so many others in the twenty-first century, she’d abandoned a notebook and pen in favor of typing notes on her phone. After this experience, she’d have to rethink that policy if she ever got home.

No, not if, when.

Getting back to her list, she flipped through the five tees in the closet. They were plain and a size bigger than she wore, but they’d do. Clothes had never been a huge priority. Being a novelist working from home, she only needed to look presentable for the occasional book signing but dressing for the weather was something one couldn’t escape. On the off chance she discovered sunblock and appropriate length shorts, she’d snag them.

Heidi perched on the bed and looked out the window at the row of stores across the street. People trickled out of the diner. Most crossed to what she assumed were their living quarters waving half-heartedly to each other. None smiled or showed any zest for life, including Mabel. Instead of crossing the street, Mabel and the three women she’d sat with at the diner headed for the stores.

To avoid another tongue-lashing, Heidi waited until Mabel emerged from the grocery store, holding a carton of something, and disappeared into a unit farther down the street.

Time to go.

Heidi wouldn’t need her purse since cash was worthless, but the keys to her Jeep couldn’t be left behind. She dug them out, clipped her carabiner to the belt loop of her jeans, slipped the keys into her pocket, and made sure her sweater covered the bulge.

Once outside, Heidi locked the door, then tugged on the knob. The door shook in its frame but stayed closed. She took tentative steps away from the door, then glanced up and down the street. It was as empty as it had been when she’d first stepped out of the Jeep.

The endless brown horizon stretching for miles and the sun baking her skin did nothing to camouflage her new reality. The cell might be big and its walls invisible, but this town was nothing more than a prison.

She crossed the street at a brisk walk to escape the sun’s brutal rays. In front of her another faded wooden sign, like the one over the diner, read General Store. A bell jingled as she swung open the battered door. The cool air soothed her hot skin.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

Silence greeted her. Wooden shelving ran along the walls, displaying a variety of items in no particular order. Six circle racks full of summer clothes sat in the middle. Three held shirts organized into women’s, men’s, and children’s, while the other three displayed bottoms categorized in the same fashion. The children’s clothes, although innocent in appearance, rose goosebumps on her skin. She couldn’t fathom children in Ghost Town with no parents and how terrifying that would have to be to a child.

Hopefully, no children had befallen that fate and never would.

She helped herself to a few plastic bags from the hook hanging on the wall inside the door and headed for the clothes. In no time, she scrounged up two pairs of knee-length shorts and three baggy shirts to add to her measly collection.

On the shelving units, she discovered sunblock, undergarments and socks, and a straw hat. A variety of other useful items like fans and batteries were on display, as well as art supplies, tools, toys, and paperback books. Her love for reading stopped her at the book section. Never mind. The ledger will keep me busy.

The one thing she hadn’t come upon after touring the small store was stationary.She returned to the art supplies as that would be the most logical place. On the bottom shelf, she shifted blank canvases to the side and discovered an empty sketchbook. She could make do with that to take notes … if only she could find a pen. As she slid the canvases back into their place, something landed on the floor beneath the shelf.

She put her face to the ground and peered into the dark shadow underneath the shelving unit. A small cylindrical object rested close to the wall. Lying on her stomach, she crammed her arm into the tight space. Her fingers groped blindly until they closed around the object. She squeezed her arm out and discovered black eyeliner in her hand. Not ideal, but it’ll do in a pinch to take notes.

She stood, collected her bags, and brushed the dust off her jeans and sweater. Groceries were her next priority. Research and snacks went hand in hand. When she dove into her search, she barely surfaced. The only way she’d remember to eat and drink was if she piled drinks and food within hands reach.

Two doors down, the small grocery store was just as deserted. It stocked items that made sense for kitchenettes—like microwave dinners, ice cream, dairy, packaged sandwich meats, packaged dry goods, bread, condiments, beverages, and produce. Huh. The uncooked meat must “materialize” at the diner.

Heidi filled two more plastic bags with sandwich meat, bread, cheese, olives, crackers, produce, ranch dressing, and a liter each of milk, mineral water, and cream. A few more snacks would’ve been nice, but she didn’t want to seem greedy. Being the newest arrival meant she’d be under scrutiny, and she didn’t want to end up an outcast. She needed people to talk to her for her research to succeed.

Before leaving, she took another tour of the space and found no entrance besides the front door. It should be easy enough to see from her windows who was restocking the shelves in the dead of night. What Dustin said about things refilling themselves couldn’t be true.

She stepped into the empty street with her arms full of bags. Eyes bored into her, and her skin crawled. A door hinge creaked and the urge to panic set in. Rather than searching for the source, she sprinted to her temporary living quarters.

Heidi yanked her keys off her belt and with shaking fingers fumbled for the right key. She shoved it in the flimsy lock, twisted, then the front door swung open. Her foot caught on the edge of the doorframe as she rushed inside, and her legs went out from under her. She landed hard on her knees, then put her hands down to break her fall. The shopping bags pooled around her wrists. She cast them aside, then scrambled to the door on her throbbing knees and locked it.

She stood and put her eye to the peephole. There were no strangers on the other side or monsters going bump in the night, just an empty street. Heidi shook her head. Her wild imagination had betrayed her yet again. And all she had to show for it were a couple of sore knees that would no doubt be colorful once the bruises formed. You idiot!

She picked up her bags and carried them to the kitchen. Even though it had only been about an hour and a half since she’d downed two glasses of sweet tea at the diner, her mouth was like the Sahara Desert. She unscrewed the last bottle of water in the fridge and chugged half of it. Unpacking the food took little time but filled the small fridge.

After a quick shower and a change into cotton shorts and a baggy cotton tee, Heidi made a sandwich and rinsed some raw veggies to dip in the ranch dressing. That, along with her liter of mineral water, would be enough to fuel her for quite a while.

She placed her items on the small kitchen table to the left of the town ledger, with the sketchbook and eyeliner at her right. Stroking the cover, she wished for answers with all her might, then dove into the first page.

ChapterFour

April 12th, 1964

Last night, this large volume appeared on a shelf in the general store. I wished for such a thing to record the circumstances around all the arrivals and departures in Ghost Town. Perhaps someday the information recorded here will lead to a way out of this desolate place.

Some basic facts about Ghost Town are as follows: (1) The population has varied between 6-15 people in the past five years. (2) Every resident has appeared here suddenly and without explanation. None have been born or have died in Ghost Town according to those who arrived before me and have since departed. At least, no bodies have been found. (3) Different attempts have been made to explore the desert for a way out in every possible direction and none have succeeded. (4) The shelves in the stores and the Ghost Diner fridge, freezer, and pantry refill themselves. (5) Our water and power sources have never been traced.

Since I’ve been here the longest out of the current group of residents, I’ll begin with my own story.

Thomas Grimsby (Arrived in June 1962)

I was on a camping trip with my wife and two young children in Golden, British Columbia. A thunderstorm grew steadily closer as we ate our dinner. When the rain started, we huddled together inside the tent. My wife held our one-year-old daughter, Emily, in her lap and our three-year-old son, Samuel, sat in mine. After the thunder and lightning subsided, the rain persisted. We decide to call it a night and climbed inside our sleeping bags. The pitter-patter of the rain on our tent quickly lulled me to sleep. When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on the street in front of Ghost Grocery.

* * *

The clock hanging on the wall chimed. A tear escaped the corner of Heidi’s eye and landed on the page she’d just finished reading. She was due at the school to pick up Emma in an hour, and she wouldn’t be there. Emma would assume she’d been forgotten, then even worse, she’d discover her only parent was missing.

At least Thomas’ children had another parent to care for them. Heidi hoped Thomas found his way back to his family. She brushed her tears away. The best way to get back to her family was to continue with her research.

She forced her brain into work mode and created a quick chart to tally the number of times someone arrived in a particular way. She had driven in, so she added a tick to that column, and she noted two ticks in a new column for waking after falling asleep since Dustin and Thomas had arrived the same way. But then it occurred to her that both she and Thomas had arrived during a weather event. That complicates things. She added an additional row for the weather.

Thus far, she didn’t see the need to track departures since no one could know what happened after someone departed. The idea of someone simply vanishing didn’t appease her logical mind, but nothing about this town made any sense.

She read through eight more of Thomas’ entries and didn’t come across any glaring clues as to why people found themselves in Ghost Town, but a pattern formed. Approximately eighty percent woke there, and people always arrived alone.

Ahead of her own arrival, she’d closed her eyes. Glancing back through the entries she’d read, none mentioned being awake during their arrival while having their eyes closed, but perhaps that wasn’t a detail they’d thought to write down.

If only she had a map to draw out their geographical details. All the residents, thus far, originated from areas that stretched across western parts of Canada and the United States. Closing her eyes, she created a map in her mind and tried to picture a central point amongst all these places where Ghost Town could be located. Dry, sparse areas existed in these regions, but none of them would be as hot as Ghost Town at this time of year.

A rapping sound snapped her out of her train of thought. Probably the neighbor’s door. She hadn’t made any friends in town. She ignored it and went back to recreating her map. A louder, faster, more persistent knock scattered the map from her mind. Damn it! You’ve got to be kidding me.

Heidi’s cheeks heated. She stood and plodded her way across the living area to the door and swung it open. Her temper ebbed at the sight of Dustin—the one person who’d been nice. He stood on the walkway with a Styrofoam container in his hand.

“Hi, Dustin. What can I do for you?”

He held out the container. “You didn’t show for lunch. After you nearly passed out this morning, I figured I better check on you.”

Heidi accepted his offering. “That’s kind of you. Thank you. I grabbed some food at the grocery store and started in on the ledger. I wasn’t planning on surfacing until later at the saloon.”

“That’s fine. I’ll let you get back to it. I’ve got to clean the kitchen at the diner. That lasagna will harden on the pans if I don’t get to them.” He turned to leave.

“Wait. Have you read the ledger?”

He turned back to face her. “Yes.”

“How about this? I’ll help you clean after I eat this, if you’ll let me pick your brain while we do it. I’ve got a million questions.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure how I can help. But that’s fair. Eat. Then meet me there.”

“Okay.”

Maybe I do have a friend after all.

ChapterFive

The bitterly cold wind whistled through the air as Emma stood outside Dickens Middle School. Not wanting to bother taking off her backpack to dig for her mittens, she jammed her hands in the fur lining of her pockets.

Her mom should’ve been here to pick her up ages ago, and she was never late. While writing, her mom always set an alarm to make sure she’d be at the school on time. The bell had rung forty-five minutes ago. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed a text with her numbing fingers.

—Mom, where are you? Are you okay?—

Emma stared at her phone, waiting for bubbles to appear, but nothing happened. She dialed her mother’s number. The phone rang four times on the other end, then went to voicemail. “Mom, it’s me. Are you okay? Call me.” She sighed, then stuck her phone and her hands inside the warmth of her pockets.

The main doors to the school banged shut behind her. She turned to find the school principal bundled up in a red scarf and her black wool coat.

Principal Jones stopped beside her. “Hi, Emma. What are you still doing here?”

“My mom isn’t here yet. I’m worried.”

Principal Jones pursed her red lips. “Did you want to come inside the school and call her? She probably got caught up in her writing or something.”

“No. She wouldn’t do that. And I just tried calling. No answer.”

The principal groaned. “Is there anyone else you can call?”

Emma shrugged and smothered her irritation with being viewed as an annoyance. This situation wasn’t her fault, and it was just her and her mom in town. Mom wasn’t the social type. She had no close friends. “We don’t have any family in town. Maybe Sadie Myers? I have her number. I could text her and ask.”

The principal unlocked the doors to the school. “Who’s your emergency contact?”

“My grandparents on Vancouver Island.” Emma followed Principal Jones into the office.

Principal Jones turned on the lights and booted up the secretary’s computer. “Well, it’s safe to say we’ll be waiting a long time for them to arrive. Come inside, and I’ll look up the contact information for Sadie’s mother. I must speak to her myself before I can let you leave. Even then, it’s against the rules. But it can’t be helped. You can’t stay here.”