Authors: Jackie Zack
The story fast forwarded to present time, no longer at the childhood home. The man—Carl, but she thought of him as Kory, had gotten a job at the foundry along with a new place to live. The work terribly labor intensive, but rewarding. On a walk home fraught with heavy fog, a woman passed by that took away his breath along with his heart. She seemed as if she didn’t belong to this world with her long, white blonde hair and gray dress seemingly the personification of thick moisture-laden air.
Dafina jerked with surprise and nearly lost the book. What load of mischief had she gotten herself into? She could easily imagine herself as the woman in Kory’s book. Was she going to be his love interest? It certainly seemed to be heading that direction. Love in a horror book could never be good.
She sped through the next page. Carl, after seeing the woman the next two days, made sure to change into better clothes before leaving work. Another foggy evening. Sure enough, she came walking by. Carl smiled, commented on the weather, and introduced himself. In return he received a hesitant smile and learned her name. He said it over and over in his mind, but the next day he couldn’t remember it. The name was unusual, one he’d never heard before.
Dafina checked her watch and stifled a groan, almost slamming the book shut, but catching her place with a finger. How could she wait until she got home? She read one last line before heading back to work.
He began to think of her as the platinum princess
.
****
Kory expected to hear curses and shouts but heard nothing but pounding feet rushing after him.
Hurry, he must hurry.
He made it to the bike, grabbed it and ran; the two thugs hot on his heels. He slowed his pace a fraction to mount the bike and put pressure on the pedal, meeting resistance, then nothing. No…the chain!
With lurching dread jolting his body, hands grabbed his arms in a grip like a vice and yanked him away from the bike. He twisted to break the hold, but all it got him was being forced to the ground, flat on his stomach. The taller man with green shoelaces took Kory’s backpack, threw it to the shorter man with the gun, then abruptly sat down on Kory’s back to make sure he wouldn’t get away.
Kory turned his head to get a better look of Shorty. Of all things, the guy found the two pages torn from
The Unseen
. If he weren’t in such a predicament, the scene could be comical. Yeah. A bad guy offended by his writing.
Green Laces freed Kory of his wallet, made a disgusted grunt, and tossed it to Shorty. Evidently he didn’t like the amount of cash. Shorty dropped the backpack and pages to catch and survey the wallet. Again with a disappointed noise. What did they expect?
Shorty slipped the wallet in his jacket pocket, and motioned to Laces. Kory gritted his teeth. Hey, if they weren’t going to talk, he wasn’t either. The sound of duct tape being unwound sent a surge of fear inside him.
The weight on his back moved and a knee pressed between his shoulder blades, a stinky tennis shoe inches from his face. He never would’ve have thought he’d have that close of view of the laces. His hands were wrenched together, his wrists bound with tape. Another tear and a piece covered his mouth. What for? He hadn’t even said a word. Next were his ankles. He almost went into a fit of kicking, but caught Shorty glaring at him while pointing the gun in his direction.
Both Shorty and Laces took turns at the backpack again. Shorty shook his head and tossed the bag aside, evidently not wanting any socks, underwear, and t-shirts. He bent down to grab the pages. He pulled out the wallet again, looked at the driver’s license, then the book page. He stuffed the lot back into his pocket, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, why did they bother?
Somehow Kory imagined it all to be staged. But how could that be? Maybe they just weren’t bright—brains the size of walnuts. He doubted if their gun was even real. They turned to leave, taking his bike with them and gave him one last look. This was when he should be screaming through the duct tape. Mmm! Mmm! He refused to give them the pleasure. They both shook their heads then disappeared from view. He hoped their ski masks gave them a rash.
Kory rolled over and moved to a sitting position. The clouds overhead were dark like his thoughts, but at least he was alive. If he could get back to the castle wall or find something with a rough or ragged edge, he might be able to rip the tape and free his hands. A cold raindrop hit him on his forehead and trickled into his eye. Really?
****
Dafina found herself zoning out at work, daydreaming about the story. Something would happen between the two characters. Good or bad, she couldn’t determine. If good, it was sure not to last but take the slow descent in whatever horror awaited them.
Kory—it was all his fault, making her obsess over the story. She glanced out the window at the darkening sky. He’d get caught in the rain before he made it to the next village. Must be the kind of adventure he wanted. She frowned and hoped he was enjoying himself.
“What’s the matter?” Gweneth interrupted her thoughts. “Thinking about Kory Slate?”
Grr.
Telling her boss the whole story of him coming by her home probably wasn’t the best idea. Now that’s all Gweneth would want to talk about. “Hmm, no. Not really.”
“Yes, really. I think yes.” Gweneth nodded, not making eye contact as she straightened a nearby display of bookmarks. “You could’ve offered to drive him around. Give him a tour.”
“Are you having me on? Drop work and take a holiday?”
“Why not? It’s not every day a se—famous American author comes by.”
“Oh, bother. You were going to say sexy American author weren’t you?”
The older woman nodded and gave a short laugh. “I was. But why say the obvious?”
“He is quite tidy. At any rate, it’s too late now.” Dafina sighed.
“So what do you think of his writing?”
Dafina pictured herself in one of the scenes, walking through fog. Each breath she took in humid, cool air. Brick buildings towered overhead barely visible from the sidewalk, gothic street lamps gave a circle of yellow light. Kory materialized in front of her, heading her way. His expression easy to read as his eyes softened. He adored her.
Gweneth tapped the book on the counter where Dafina had left it. “Is it good?”
“Hmm? Oh. It’s easy to get lost in. Quite…good.”
“I see.”
Too bad she hadn’t gone on holiday with horror writer Kory. She would’ve missed Nesta’s visit and her pesky questions of where Dafina’s husband was. She couldn’t keep the ruse up forever and might as well start packing her bags. Why did Grandmum continue the family tradition with the stone cottage? All that had happened was heartache for Dafina and her mum. Her gut told her to go see Grandmum and plead with her. Maybe she could come to see reason this time. Or would it go the way it did when Mum begged, getting no understanding at all?
The afternoon ticked by with a few regulars turning in used books and purchasing more. One of her favorite customers who loved the store’s thrift aspect noticed
The Unseen
sitting on the counter.
“What do you have there?” Fanny asked. Her older, blue gray eyes sparkled, complimenting her blue gray hair. “It’s from your new selection, isn’t it? I saw you reading it when I walked in.”
“Yes, brand new. It’s hard to put down.” Dafina smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm.
“Not too scary?”
“Yes, I—”
“Ooh. I’ve not read a really frightening book in a long time.” She grabbed the book and read the back, biting back a smile as Dafina rang up her purchases.
“You like it?” The older woman asked while keeping her eyes on the back cover.
“Yes, so far.” She nodded.
“Well, here.” Fanny shoved the book her direction. “I’ll take it.”
“All right.” Dafina never would’ve guessed that she’d spend that much on a new book. “Sure you want this one? We have some that haven’t been cracked open. I mean, it’s okay. It’s binding is fine—”
Fanny waved her explanation away. “That one’s fine. You worry too much.”
After the transaction was completed, Fanny left the store with a bag full of books a smile on her face. Dafina continued to be busy with customers as they trickled in the store. When would she get to read again? She missed the man in the story. With a start, it hit her once again that Kory and the character in the book were one in the same to her.
Not good. Not good at all! She was heading at an increasingly fast rate toward infatuation and most likely obsession. Had Kory surmised that would happen? Her face warmed uncomfortably. What had he said? Something like he didn’t want her to read it, because they’d met? Weird. The whole bloomin’ lot.
As she helped the next customer, she turned to the window to see the back of
The Unseen
in the display. So close but impossible for her to grab the book and read. Kory’s picture smiled at her, and she imagined the novel to say, “I’m yours, baby, but you can’t get me.”
Ah, ha. She could grab the book after the next customer, but lucky for Gweneth, shoppers kept coming.
At last closing time came; Dafina and Griff headed home under sprinkles of rain. She would turn the house upside down to find her reading material and spend the whole blessed evening immersed in another time and place where a man that looked like Kory was falling for her alternate self.
“Griff, can you find it for me?”
He turned and gave her a look that surely meant, ‘you’ve got to be fooling.’
When she arrived home, she plopped her purse on a chair, popped a dinner in the popty-ping, and stepped with added effort to the living room. Even though she could walk without much of a limp, her ankle still hurt. Her gaze shot to the side table where
The Unseen
fairly glowed in light from the window. Impossible. She’d looked there. It was the first place she tried that morning. How?
She picked up the novel. Was she losing her mind? Wait. When she looked for the book, it was before Kory had arrived from the cottage. That meant Kory had something to do with it being missing and then returning. Flipping the pages didn’t reveal any clue. Nothing unusual. Odd, that.
“You’re not getting away from me this time.” Dafina held the book tightly over her heart then found her place in the pages, sat down and started reading. She lifted her right foot and placed it on the pillow covered foot stool. The popty-ping blared its warning that the dinner was done, but the story equaled the food in being heated. Their evening at the coffee house had come to an end and Carl/Kory walked the platinum princess home. He pulled her in for a kiss, thinking that he’d either have to leave a split second later or stay the night.
Dafina rushed to the next page, but a blaring noise rang out. Wasn’t the microwave satisfied giving out the first siren blare that it had to send out another? Oh, bother! It was the door buzzer. She set the book down and stepped to the front door. Peering out through the curtained window, the sight made her spirit sink. Aunt Nesta had arrived several days early, suitcase in hand.
Oh, no—Pops! If Nesta saw the dummy, she’d have to realize something was amiss. Dafina rushed to the kitchen and grabbed Pops. As quickly as she could, she lugged the creation to her bedroom and stuffed him in the closet. The moldy head detached and took a dive for a back corner. The door bell buzzed again.
****
The massive cloud let loose a downpour like a giant bucket emptying out water. Cold water. Kory strained his hands against the duct tape in attempt to get as much rain on the adhesive as possible. If the wetness offered any help, he couldn’t tell. Claustrophobia crowded in on him. The deluge made it impossible to see any good distance, and the tape across his mouth made it all too clear that if he couldn’t breathe through his nose, he’d be a goner.
All he could do was sit and wait. How much time had ticked by, he had no idea. Fifteen minutes—a half hour? As the rain cascaded down seemingly without end, he still made war with his bonds, yanking his hands every which way possible. The tape began to lose its stickiness, he could feel it. Hope glimmered, and then his hands were free.
He pulled the tape from his mouth. “Yes!” Stinging pain shot over his upper lip and chin. “
Aarrh!
”
He swiped a hand over his new beard and stretched his jaw. But thank goodness for stupid thugs. If they had to be bad guys, the more that were dumb, the better. He leaned forward against his bent knees and ripped the duct tape that bound his ankles.
The rain continued to pelt him and bubbled in nearby puddles.
Thank you for the rain.
He grabbed his backpack, zipped it shut, and set out warily down the path. What if Shorty and Laces were waiting under a tree until the rain stopped? He certainly didn’t want to meet up with them again.
The clouds overhead kept their steady journey. The weather changed to a soft steady rain. Small patches of blue sky appeared and disappeared. He reached the area of dark burned trees. The blackbird nowhere in sight. Where the path turned muddy, two sets of footprints were pressed in deeply as Shorty and Laces lumbered through. A bike tire track was visible off to the side. A few paces down the trail on the right, his billfold and phony credit cards lay in tall grass. Guess they had enough brainpower to see the cards wouldn’t work.