Lost: The Novels

by Catherine Hapka

  Jeff settled into a chair near the gate, crossed his legs, and opened the paperback mystery. The author was one he always enjoyed and it seemed to Jeff that the better mystery novels were perfect for travel—well written enough to satisfy his urge for good literature, fast-paced and enthralling enough to keep his mind occupied for the course of a flight.

  But even though the book promised to be a real page-turner, Jeff remained mired at the opening paragraph. It wasn’t that the normally gifted author was off his game, but that Savannah’s face intruded over every sentence.

  He had replayed their last disastrous meeting over in his mind repeatedly, always trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing. But as each day passed, he became more and more convinced that he was an idiot. He had lost the first true love of his life. Lost? he thought angrily. I didn’t lose her—I threw her away! And all because of some ridiculous rule he imposed upon himself out of nothing more than fear. Now he couldn’t bring himself to go back and try to make things right. But he also couldn’t bring himself to face the possibility of a life without her. All Jeff knew for sure was that he missed Savannah desperately and that he was likely to be perfectly miserable until the issue had been resolved.

  But each time he drew his cell phone from his pocket, he couldn’t bring himself to dial. What is it? he wondered. Is it just my stupid pride that keeps me from going to her and admitting I was wrong?

  He paced up and down the terminal, browsing listlessly in the many bland shops and boutiques. He wasn’t hungry, but he bought a cranberry muffin and coffee at a kiosk, just to have something to occupy him for a few moments. Several times he opened the book again and began to read but even the few times that he reached page two, he had to stop and realize that he hadn’t retained a single word.

  Finally, with great relief, Jeff heard the announcement that Flight 815 was ready to board. He took his place near the front of the queue, boarding pass in hand. The gate attendant passed it through the scanner and gave the stub to Jeff. Later, once he was stranded on the island, he sometimes tried to remember noticing any of his fellow survivors when they were boarding and getting into their seats. But he couldn’t. That day, Jeff was too wrapped up in his own drama to pay attention to anyone else.

  His seat was on the left side of the aircraft beside the window. There were three seats in each row and with a silent groan of disappointment Jeff saw that he was to be seated in the middle. He was not feeling very social at the moment and sitting in the middle, he felt, just doubled his chances that someone was going to try to engage him in conversation for the duration of the long, long flight.

  On the aisle sat a very large man, probably about forty years old, dressed like a stereotypical tourist and sweating profusely. At the window was a short-statured woman who looked to be in her late twenties. She had a round face that could better be described as pleasant than attractive; she had a rather vacant stare. Her head was topped by a riot of brown curls and she wore a sundress with thin straps.

  When Jeff sat down the large man grinned and said, “Squeeze on in, pardner. We’re gonna be mighty close for the next few hours.” Jeff smiled politely at him and then at the woman on his left. She looked surprised that he had noticed her at all, smiled shyly, and turned to look intently out the window.

  Jeff was leafing through the complimentary Oceanic magazine, wondering if the crossword puzzle would occupy his mind better than the mystery, when his cell phone rang.

  Surprised, Jeff took it out and checked the caller ID. He didn’t recognize the number. With a surge of optimism, he thought it might be Savannah, calling from some phone other than her own.

  Of course it’s Savannah, Jeff thought. At last. Now I have the opportunity to say everything I’ve been too cowardly to say before. I can beg her to forgive me, promise her a new start. I can tell her exactly how much I miss her and have been longing for her.

  “Savannah?” he said, a little breathlessly.

  There was a long pause. “Mr. Hadley,” a male voice said, “Jeffrey Hadley?”

  Jeff’s hope, however illogical, faded immediately. It was probably just a telemarketer. Damn them all! Jeff thought bitterly.

  “Yes, this is Jeffrey Hadley,” he said with a disappointed sigh.

  “Mr. Hadley, I’m Dr. Karlin,” the voice said. “I’m calling from Wallace Medical Center in Lochheath, Scotland.”

  Jeff felt a chill of dread creep up his spine. He said nothing.

  “Mr. Hadley?” Dr. Karlin said. “Are you there?”

  Jeff closed his eyes and said quietly, “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Mr. Hadley, do you know a young lady by the name of Savannah McCulloch?”

  Jeff began to shake. “What?” he asked, more to buy a few more precious moments of time than for clarification.

  “Savannah McCulloch,” the doctor repeated. “Your name and phone number were in her purse. There was no other contact information. Are you related to Ms. McCulloch?”

  Jeff’s head began to pound with terror. “Related?” he said. “Yes. I’m her…” Her what? “No, no relation. Just a friend. Is she all right? Was she badly injured?”

  Now it was the doctor’s turn to pause. “I am very sorry to have to tell you, but Ms. McCulloch has passed away.”

  No! An anguished scream coursed through Jeff’s head. No!

  Or perhaps he actually screamed it aloud. He wasn’t sure, but his reaction was strong enough so that the passengers on either side of him jumped in alarm; they both turned to stare at him. Before he could say anything else, the phone went dead. He held the phone in his hand for a moment, staring at it as if it were haunted. Then he quickly dialed the number on the phone’s display panel. The call did not connect.

  Panicking, he began to get up. He had to get off the plane immediately. But just as he unbuckled his seat belt, a flight attendant leaned in close to him.

  “Sir,” she said, a blandly pleasant smile on her face, “we’re already taxiing down the runway. You must remain in your seat. And please turn off your cell phone.”

  “But this is an emergency…” Jeff said. “I have to get off this plane!”

  The flight attendant smiled the patient smile of someone who faces a hundred “emergencies” every flight. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, sir. I’m so terribly sorry. But you really do have to turn off your phone.”

  “But…”

  “There now, sir,” the flight attendant said, her smile growing wider but less friendly, “rules are rules, aren’t they? Let’s be a good little passenger, all righty?”

  For a brief moment, Jeff considered ramping up the incident into a full-fledged argument. That way, he might get kicked off the plane and he could somehow get a flight back to Lochheath. And once he was there, he would find that the so-called doctor was wrong. He had to be wrong. Savannah was just fine. Not dead. Fine.

  But he knew that the trip would be useless. Once he arrived in Los Angeles, he could call the hospital to get more details. But why should he? No details would change the cold, horrible truth. She was gone. Gone forever. And he knew that even though he was half a world away, it was entirely his fault.

  Jeff sighed again, turned off his cell phone, and slipped it into his shirt pocket. The flight attendant patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you so much,” she said. “Oh, and don’t forget to refasten that safety belt.” Then she moved on to deal with other potential troublemakers.

  Jeff clicked the metal buckle of his seat belt and pulled it taut across his lower belly. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. And, to the great concern of the passengers on either side of him, he began to weep.

  19

  HE COULDN’T HAVE HEARD correctly.

  Within the sinister groans emanating from some point just beyond the wall of the chamber, Jeff had clearly heard a voice speak his name. What had previously seemed merely eerie now seemed downright insane. Quickly, he tried to catalog every possible rational explanation—someone was playing a j
oke on him; someone who knew him by name really was in trouble; he was hallucinating; or, that old favorite that he had clung to so often recently, it was only a dream.

  But as easily as the explanations came to mind, Jeff dismissed them. This was no dream. It was truly happening. As horrifying, as paralyzing as the thought was, this was truly happening.

  Jeff wanted to turn tail and run but some inner feeling—something between curiosity and madness—kept drawing him deeper into the cave. Although it was not too dark, nor was the light fading, something was affecting Jeff’s eyesight. Everything seemed to be growing less clear, as if it were a film gradually slipping out of focus. In some bizarre way, this heartened Jeff a little. He thought it might be an indication that he was indeed hallucinating and not about to face the flock of otherworldly demons from his dreams. He had heard of jungle plants that gave off a deadly perfume with which to trap their prey. Perhaps some of those plants had grown into the walls of the cave. Perhaps he was breathing in one fatal breath after another.

  It might kill me, Jeff thought, but at least it’s something I can understand.

  “Jeff…”

  There it was again. Closer now. So close that he began to tense up, expecting at any second that some gothic creature would burst from the shadows and drink his blood.

  But that made no sense, either. Why all these elaborate clues? Just to lure him, specifically Jeff Hadley, to some remote place and kill him? No; whatever this was, it was personal.

  Almost as if without a will of his own, Jeff followed the voices deeper into the darkness.

  My God, he thought. How deep is this place? When I walked in it looked to be about ten feet wide but I’ve been walking for ten minutes and I’m still no closer to the far wall.

  He squinted at the wall. The ghastly mural was still in sharp focus, but everything around it was swirling like the oil in a lava lamp. Gradually, with rapidly accelerating horror, he saw that the swirls were alive—those horribly sinister shadow creatures that appeared nightly in his dreams. Their murmuring and groaning were the only sounds in the chamber; Jeff could hear them far better than he could see them. He could sense rather than watch their movements; he knew they were closing in on him. And when he heard the voice again…

  “Jeff…”

  …he knew, against all logic, that Savannah was among them.

  He looked around wildly, belatedly trying to think of some way of protecting or defending himself. They were everywhere, never seeming to move but constantly coming closer. Even this close, he still could not tell if they were human. Jeff figured, since these were the last moments of his life, that he would never know for sure.

  Suddenly Jeff felt himself being grabbed from behind. Jeff screamed, a primal scream of pure animal terror, and tried desperately to break away.

  “It’s me! It’s me!” a familiar voice said. His heart still thumping like a jackhammer, Jeff craned his head around and saw that Michael had his arms wrapped around Jeff’s chest and was pulling, trying to get him to move back across the chamber to the exit.

  Jeff couldn’t speak. Michael looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear in his eyes; he clearly thought that Jeff had gone insane.

  “We’ve gotta get out of here, man,” Michael urged. “Come on, let’s go!”

  Jeff stood firmly in place and shook his head. “I need to find out…”

  Michael pulled again. “You need to leave this place!”

  Jeff saw that the creatures were now surrounding him and Michael. He wanted desperately for Michael to let him go. Maybe the two of them could fight together and get out of this alive. But Michael held on tightly, urging, pleading with Jeff to come with him.

  Suddenly, with a guttural snarl, one of the things leapt forward and grabbed Michael. Then another and another. Jeff was thrown roughly to the ground and Michael was dragged directly over his prone body, the heels of his shoes kicking Jeff in the nose and mouth.

  Jeff struggled to his feet. Within the hazy mob of demons, Michael was crying out with a terror for which there were no words. Just beyond them, Jeff could see that the floor was bloodstained and that there were seven long, sharp blades stuck in the floor, waiting.

  Jeff dashed forward but could make no progress through the indistinct mob. It was like wading through thick liquid swirling with savage undercurrents.

  The things lay Michael on the bloody spot and surrounded him, picking up the blades and brandishing them over their heads. The groans and murmurs grew louder. Jeff thought it must be some obscene prayer to their devil god. As they chanted, the chamber began to quiver and shake. It felt like an earthquake, but Jeff knew that it was just the upheaval from their unspeakable ritual.

  Michael struggled furiously against the creatures, but it was no use. He looked at Jeff with wild eyes, but now when he tried to scream his voice came out only in a hoarse croak. At that instant, Jeff remembered the dream in which the creatures savaged the woman. He knew that Michael was about to be sacrificed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  It was then that he remembered the talisman. Of course! That was part of the dream, too! It must mean something.

  He drew the object from his pocket and held it at arm’s length in front of him. Desperately willing the talisman to exhibit some sort of magical power, he nevertheless felt rather ludicrous, like a character in a Dracula movie.

  He half expected the creatures to hiss and retreat from the symbol. But, to his dismay, they paid no attention to it at all. The talisman meant nothing.

  He flung the worthless wooden disc to the floor and rushed forward to grab Michael’s arm. Pulling desperately to free Michael from the malevolent creatures, Jeff was suddenly aware of another presence.

  Savannah stood before him, holding a baby in her arms.

  Even in his terrified desperation as he was fighting for his and Michael’s lives, Jeff was frozen to the spot.

  “Savannah! Oh God…”

  Her eyes were sad. If Jeff ever could have imagined such a remarkable meeting, he would have expected her to be angry with him, but she looked as if her heart were breaking.

  “We could have been everything to you,” she said quietly. “We could have saved your life.” She spoke in a language that Jeff had never heard. He knew instinctively that it was a language spoken nowhere on earth. Nevertheless, he could understand her perfectly.

  The tumult around him seemed to slow. Jeff had the unexplainable feeling that the creatures were curious about this emotional moment, and were watching closely to see how it was going turn out. Somehow, with his mind filled with multiple bewildering ideas, Jeff became aware that the strange earthquake had stopped.

  Then all he could focus on was Savannah.

  Jeff said, “I’m so sorry…”

  Savannah pointed to the door. “Protect your friend.”

  The things had backed away from Michael, who seemed to be unconscious. Jeff stepped toward him and the crowd parted, allowing him to move through them. Jeff knelt to help Michael up but first looked back to Savannah.

  “I love you,” he said. “I always loved you.”

  Savannah whispered in the strange tongue, “You have no time.”

  As Savannah, holding the child, backed away, Jeff began dragging Michael toward the cave’s mouth. The other shadow creatures watched him malevolently, their eyes glowing red with rage. Jeff was relieved that Savannah possessed some kind of magic that was too powerful for them.

  But he instantly recognized that he was wrong.

  Jeff had dragged Michael just beyond the perimeter of the deadly circle when the groaning murmur roared to a feverish volume. As one, the creatures lurched forward as the cave’s walls began to shake violently. Jeff could see Savannah beyond the fray, a look of deep sadness on her face. Somehow he knew that she had used all the strength she had, but that it wasn’t enough.

  Jeff saw Savannah bend forward and pick up the talisman. She placed it in her baby’s hands; the infant seemed transfixed by
it.

  Jeff wrapped an arm around Michael’s neck and pulled with all his strength. The cave’s entrance seemed to be a universe away, but within seconds, Jeff and Michael reached it and fell through into the outdoors, as something sharp like claws or talons ripped at their backs.

  As they collapsed in front of the cave where the adventure began, Jeff turned to see those piercing, glowing eyes glaring through the dark. The things seemed unable or unwilling to cross the border out of the cave. He could hear beyond the entrance that the cave was shaking more violently. Then there was a long, thunderous, rolling crash. Within the roar of the disaster, Jeff could hear unearthly shrieks—hissing, whispered shrieks that were somehow both barely audible and ear-piercing. Jeff pictured the ghastly cave’s chamber collapsing in on itself, burying the evil that he had left behind in there.

  And Savannah.

  A flurry of thoughts rushed through Jeff’s mind in the next few seconds, all of them thoughts he would have considered psychotic only an hour earlier. In some part of his brain that remained rational and somewhat detached, Jeff registered the odd fact that the terrible earthquake that had just destroyed the chamber beyond had caused not a quiver in the place where he was now sitting. The low rumbling beyond the wall gradually died away. To Jeff, it sounded less like the quake was stopping than that it was receding.

  Jeff undoubtedly would have puzzled over this extremely odd phenomenon for a while longer, except that unconsciousness overtook him just then, and he collapsed beside Michael’s unmoving body.

  20

  JEFF DIDN’T KNOW HOW long he and Michael had lain there on the ground outside the cave. He was the first to come to and sat up unsteadily. His back stung with pain. Awkwardly reaching behind him, Jeff felt his shirt, which hung on his back in shreds. He drew back his hand to find it dusted with dried blood. He looked down at Michael; his arms had several superficial cuts, as if made by long thin fingernails. Michael’s chest rose and fell gently and Jeff realized with intense relief that he was alive.