Page 9 of These Cold Strangers

“Why are you doing this?” I manage to scrape out, and he laughs again, mirthless, turns off the light, and disappears into the darkness. I hear him mount the stairs. The door slams with finality. The stygian blackness overtakes me. I can see nothing.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. The woman ...

I hyperventilate anyway and disappear into my own darkness.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cold. So cold. I roll to my side, reaching for my blanket, and find nothing. A rattle comes from my arm.

My eyes snap open. The dark is complete, as oppressive as the inside of a coffin.Todd.

Todd Preis shackled me to a wall in his basement. What the hell is happening?

I yank on the chain and find it unyielding—my hand circles the metal around my wrist, thick and unforgiving. I want to stay calm, but that’s impossible. My thoughts mash together: What might be happening turns into what is surely to come. I am going to die down here, in this terrifying vacuum. A sob rises in my throat, and my breath hitches. The tears begin to fall; I can’t help myself, damn it.

“Don’t cry.”

The voice from the darkness is quiet. Composed. Female. The woman I saw.

“Who is that?”

“My name is Julia.”

“Julia Harding?”

“Shhh. Keep your voice down. Yes. How do you know my name? Are they looking for me?”

My fuzzy mind struggles to put this together. Todd Preis kidnapped Julia Harding?

What of the other women who are missing? What of me?

What have I uncovered? What have I unleashed?

“Hello?” Her voice is so faded and soft. So beaten.

“Yes. They are looking for you. There have been stories about you going missing. You went for a run and disappeared. They thought your husband—”

“Eddie.” She breathes the word, a sighing prayer. I’m not about to break the news of his alibi. “How long have I been gone? I lose track down here. It’s hard to figure out the days.”

“A month, give or take. I’m Addison Blake, by the way.”

“Addison? Marchburg High Addison? Your family—”

“Yes. That’s me.”

“What is he doing, going through the yearbook?”

This makes me laugh, the hysterical cackle of the condemned. I bite my lip to keep it quiet, then sober. Julia still has fire in her. I suppose that’s why she’s still alive. Maybe he likes a challenge.

“What has he done to you?”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. If she’s been chained in his basement like a naughty dog for a month? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s been happening.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “How far are you from me? Can you touch me?”

“I don’t know.”

I move toward her voice, trying not to think about what I’m crawling through. Her own chain clanks a bit, and I feel a hand. It grasps mine and holds tight. Best as I can tell, we have about ten feet between us. My chain is taut, my arm stretched fully, and I guess hers is too. Thank God she’s not on the other side of the room. Though there’s enough space that I don’t know how we can work together to overcome him. We’ll have to get creative.

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