“I don’t know, exactly. It was late. Maybe eleven or so. It might have been after midnight.”
Jared nodded. “I had my own event last night.”
“Event …”
The kettle boiled, and Marisa prepared them two cups of tea. She sat.
“I’d hate to call it a seizure,” Jared said. “But I can’t really come up with anything else to describe it. It felt like a heart attack. Like my whole body was enduring it. And it was just like the first time with your son.”
She studied him with a keener eye. “Kit doesn’t have these veins like you. He had them last night, but they faded away. Just like before.”
“About eleven or so.”
“Yes. When did your ‘event’ happen?”
“When I woke up, the clock said 11:05. I’d put real money on it that that’s when Kit had his seizure.”
“You know this is impossible. Isn’t it?”
“I thought that, too. But last night wasn’t the first time that I shared an event.”
“You mean besides Kit? With who?”
“… Tom Greenwood.”
“What?”
“The same night that the Greenwood’s home exploded, I had a similar event as last night.”
“A coincidence. It has to be.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Do you know Rose Tillman?”
“I do. She lives next to the Greenwoods.”
“I swung by to see the place the day after it happened. I met Rose there. Nice lady. She saw Tom Greenwood from her upstairs window the night before. He was trying to fix his gas stove just minutes before the accident.”
“Was she hurt?”
“No, thankfully. Her home had very little damage, considering. But the blast knocked an old clock of hers right off a shelf. The thing’s toast. It’s stuck at 10:51 p.m. Just minutes after I had my attack.”
“But that doesn’t mean the events are connected.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But something’s happening to me, Mar. I might be sick.”
~ 59
Jared stirred some milk and sugar into his tea. Marisa sat silently, brooding.
He sipped. “Say something. Anything.”
“Damn it, Jared. Look in the mirror. You should call Dr. Vogel right now.”
“I don’t know if I need to. Or even if I should.”
“Typical.”
“Are you going to finish that?” he said, eyeing her untouched sandwich.
“Really? You drop this bomb on me, and then you ask for my sandwich?”
“It’s part of what I’m trying to tell you. I’m eating like a horse. I’m always thirsty. Ever since that episode in the park.”
“And you don’t think you need to see a doctor?”
“At first I thought it was cancer. I was having pretty bad nosebleeds, even for me. But these attacks I’ve been having convinced me otherwise. The eyes, the veins … chest pains … soreness in my arms and legs. I’ve even had some blackouts.”
“Jesus, Jared. What the hell is the matter with you? You need to see someone right away.”
“Look, if it gets worse, I will. I promise.” He snatched her sandwich and took a big bite.
She swatted him. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
He sipped some tea. “I think I know what it is. At least, what’s causing it.”
“What?”
“That first time when I connected with Kit, something happened. Something I can’t explain. The gateway opened, and we connected. But we didn’t, really. I didn’t sense anything with him, remember? It’s like he wasn’t there. Like something was blocking him.”
“The seizure. That’s what you thought, right?”
“I’m almost certain that was part of it,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s what blocked us completely. Something else did. And whatever that something was, it came through.”
Marisa’s arms rippled with gooseflesh. “What—?”
“I know how it sounds. It’s crazy. But scary.”
Marisa said nothing.
“Mar?”
She didn’t respond right away. “You said you didn’t sense anything with Kit. But did you feel anything else?”
Jared hesitated.
“You did, didn’t you?” she said. “And so did I.”
“You’re not talking about that sensation of cold again. Are you.”
“No. This was something else. I had this overwhelming sensation of dread. Like something bad passed through me.” When he didn’t react, she prodded him. “You felt it, too. Didn’t you.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Damn it.”
“I wanted to,” he said. “I just couldn’t bring myself to. Not with everything else. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know if I wasn’t imagining half of it.”
“Well,” she said sheepishly, “I didn’t tell you, either. Same reason. So what do you think it is?”
“I have no idea. But I do know one thing. Somehow, Kit and I are still connected. The gateway is still open.”
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. But it would seem to be the only explanation.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Her eyes fell to his tapping on the table.
Jared stopped. “Whatever we felt in the gateway—whatever came through—it’s still out there. Wherever that is.”
“Can we close the gateway?”
He shrugged. “Even if it’s possible, I wouldn’t know how. But there might be a way.”
“Not a chance, Jared. No.”
“But—”
“No.”
Jared nodded.
“My son’s not some experiment. Look what’s happened. For all we know, you two could have died opening that gateway. We have no idea what another might do. It could make things worse.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what else to do.” He sat back with a sigh. “Maybe it’ll close by itself.”
“Or maybe you’re wrong about all of this.”
“I hope I am.”
“In the meantime,” she said, “we’ve got two items on our plate. The first—if it’s true—is this new premonition.”
“And the second?”
“The interview.”
~
They dealt with the second item first. Marisa called Sonia Wheaton and set up the interview for Monday afternoon. Jared was uncomfortable with the format, a live online group chat, and when Marisa hung up, he slumped back in his chair.
“Maybe no one will show up,” he sighed. “She can’t have that many followers. Right?”
~ 60
Jared spent the night in turmoil. His dreams were dark and fleeting, and when he finally rose at dawn and stood before the bathroom mirror, he discovered that his condition was worse. The whites of his eyes were far more saffron and red. The veins had spread even more. When he reached for the tap to run some warm water, his right hand seized up, throbbing. He had to rub it for several minutes before he could wash.
Famished, he wolfed down a six-egg omelette, three English muffins, and two cups of tea. Working at his desk, poring over an online article of the Phantom’s work from 1980, he finished off two banana muffins. At five to one in the afternoon, he fixed himself a pot of tea and a turkey sandwich on whole grain bread, and returned to his work. He caught himself tapping on the laptop’s touchpad.
You can’t back out now, he thought.
He launched a new instance of his web browser and typed in the URL that Sonia Wheaton had provided. The website presented a login screen, and he logged in as a guest user. He straightened in front of his webcam, and sat anxiously, staring at the flashing JOIN CHAT icon.
“Fuck it,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
He clicked on the icon, and a moment later he was staring across the Internet at a smiling and grainy Sonia Wheaton. The screen was split, Sonia on the left, an italicized title on the right: Torc
h Falls Today with Sonia Wheaton.
Sonia tapped a few keys on her keyboard, and the word ONLINE suddenly appeared below the title. A moment later, a graphical list of people scrolled down the screen. Jared wasn’t too concerned—there were only twenty in the list—until he realized that this was only page one of fifty-two.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” Sonia said. “Welcome to Torch Falls Today. I’m thrilled to be here live with you on this beautiful May Monday, and let me say, I’m over the moon about our show today! As promised in yesterday’s impromptu newsletter to you, I’ve got a special surprise guest. You may know him as the brilliant mind behind best-selling books such as Luscious and Torment, or his latest novel, Insanity. I’m talking, of course, about none other than the Falls’ greatest son, author Jared Cole. He’ll be taking your questions and comments for the next hour, and by the look of things, you’ve got a lot of them! Welcome, Mr. Cole, and thank you for joining us today.”
“My pleasure, Sonia. It’s great to be here.”
“Could you move a little closer to the screen? And I’m having a little trouble hearing you.”
Jared sat up and repositioned his chair. “Better?”
“Perfect,” Sonia said. “Mr. Cole—”
“Jared,” he said. He pasted a smile.
“Jared,” Sonia replied. She held up a copy of Insanity. “I’ve just started reading your new book, and I have to say, it’s already giving me nightmares.”
“I hope so,” Jared said, chuckling.
“Is it based on fact?”
“Well, not on any particular person, certainly. But let’s be realistic. It’s about a man who has lost everything. His job, his friends, his future … small wonder he does what he does. It’s a fine line for some people who walk a tightrope of insanity every day.”
“It’s gruesome, to say the least. Spoiler alert, all: It starts with a grisly murder.”
Jared shrugged playfully. “It’s not Harry Potter.”
“That it isn’t,” Sonia said. “I have to admit, I’m hooked. I know your fans will love it.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s go back to the beginning—to the days of a struggling writer trying to find his voice. What was it like for you?”
“Ah, the good old days,” Jared said. “I suppose it wasn’t very different than any other writer. We all go through it. The doubt. The frustration. The rejection. It was a rough time for me. But you have to keep going. You have to believe in the work.”
“How many rejections did you have?”
“More than I’ll admit to,” Jared joked.
“So here you are, this unknown writer, struggling, fearing another rejection, and then whammo. You wake up with a New York Times best-seller. What was that like?”
“Like a dream. It still is.”
“I’ll bet,” Sonia said. “But it must have been bittersweet.”
“Sorry?”
“Your family tragedy.”
~ 61
Why the hell did I agree to this? Jared thought. He nearly slammed his laptop shut.
Sonia Wheaton stared at him through the webcam. “Jared … take your time.”
Jared stirred uncomfortably. He looked down a moment, then gazed back at the screen. “It was the worst night of my life.”
“Most of my followers—and probably most of your readers—aren’t aware of that tragic night. Could you tell us about it?”
“I’m sorry. I’d really rather not.”
“Of course,” Sonia said, sitting up. “So, I have to ask. Forgive me for saying so, but you look a little run down. Working late on a new book?”
Jared couldn’t believe how callous and cold she could be. How she could just jump to the next question that popped into her head. “Yes. Burning the three-a.m. oil, so to speak.”
“What’s it about?”
“I can’t say. My publisher would kill me. Both of us.”
“Not even a teaser? Your fans are listening.”
“Let’s just say that it’s inspired by true events. I’m scaring myself with it.”
“True events? Ooooh, now I’m really curious. Give us a taste.”
“I wish I could. You’ll have to wait until it comes out.”
“Fair enough. You grew up in the Falls. What’s it like living in New York City?”
“The people are fantastic. There’s a pulse to the city like nowhere else. But you know, I moved back recently.”
“Any particular reason?”
“As you said, I grew up here. I missed Montana. I wanted to get back to my writing roots.”
“Would you mind taking some questions from the group?”
“Love to,” Jared said. A lie, but it was better than talking to this opportunistic twit. He couldn’t believe he’d only been online with her for five minutes.
Sonia tapped at her keyboard, and the right half of the screen displayed an avatar of the first caller. SweetHondaGirl was a cartoonish, pink Honda Civic.
“SweetHondaGirl,” Sonia said. “Love your avatar! What’s your question?”
“First off, I’d like to say hi to Mr. Cole. I just loved Luscious.”
“Hi,” Jared said. “And thank you.”
“My question is, is there going to be a sequel?”
“You know, I get asked that a lot. All I can say for sure is that there were a lot of unanswered questions in Viktor’s life at the end of the story. There are no definitive plans for a sequel, but the more I talk with people, the more I think about doing it. And when that happens, it usually turns into a book.”
“Awesome,” SweetHondaGirl said.
“Thank you for calling,” Sonia said.
Jared thanked the caller as well, and SweetHondaGirl said goodbye. That wasn’t so bad, he thought, eyeing the clock on his desk. Only 53 minutes to go.
“Our next caller is Mitch2160,” Sonia said. “Hi, Mitch, you’re online with Torch Falls Today. What’s your question?”
Mitch2160’s avatar was missing, defaulted to a bland head-and-shoulders outline. “Hi, Sonia. Hi Jared! You rock.”
Jared laughed. “Thank you, Mitch.”
“I know you probably get asked this all the time,” Mitch2160 said, “but I’d like to know where you get your ideas from. Especially Deviant.”
Sonia chuckled. “Really, Mitch? Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Mitch2160 laughed. “Just looking for pointers,” he joked.
“Well,” Jared said, “I’ll respond to the more general question. There’s really two parts to the answer. I mean, I draw inspiration from just about anywhere. The world can be a wonderful place. But it’s got horrors to match. For an overactive mind like mine, it’s not hard for me to take something I see and turn it into a story. I just ask, ‘What if?’”
“And the second part?” Sonia said.
“The truth is, I don’t know. It’s like asking Einstein how he came up with relativity. The brain can be wildly inventive all by itself.”
“I get that,” Mitch2160 said. “Cool. Can I ask another question?”
“Sure,” Sonia said.
“Who’s going to play Viktor in the movie?”
“Actually, I don’t know,” Jared said. “I just hope it’s not Tom Cruise. Sorry, Tom, but you’ve already done the vampire thing.”
“Not to mention he’s too old,” Sonia said with a laugh. “Thank you, Mitch.” The caller thanked her and signed off.
The next five callers killed another fifteen minutes, asking questions that ranged from the ridiculous (“Any advice on what an aspiring writer should eat?”) to the sublime (“If you could ask God one question, what would it be?”). This last one gave Jared pause.
“Well, MaryShelley,” he said, using the caller’s handle, “that’s probably the toughest question I’ve ever been asked. Sonia had asked earlier if I’d talk about a tragedy in my life. I lost my parents in a horrible traffic accident. We’ll leave it at that. So getting to your question, I guess I’
d ask God how He decides when it’s someone’s time.”
There was a long silence then, and Jared knew he should have come up with something else; something far less depressing and dark. Way to go, Ace. You couldn’t say something clever, like you’d ask if aliens really exist, or who shot JFK.
He was thankful when MaryShelley spoke up. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Jared said. “It was a great question.”
“It was,” Sonia agreed. “That’s why we’re here, Torch Falls. Thank you, Mary.”
Sonia struck a few keys. The next avatar appeared, the same bland image as Mitch2160. The handle was 67CandyCam.
“You’re on Torch Falls Today,” Sonia said. “Thanks for calling in.”
There was silence for a moment, then a muted cough.
Sonia said, “Are you there, CandyCam?”
Jared raised his brows and shrugged.
Sonia was about to go to the next caller when 67CandyCam spoke up. The words were sluggish and garbled.
“Sorry, CandyCam,” Sonia said, “can you repeat that, please?”
There was another pause.
“Hello?” Sonia said.
The words came again, still impossible to discern.
“I’m sorry,” Jared said. “I couldn’t hear—” He was interrupted by the distinct snap of a pull-tab on an aluminum can. It was crazy, but one name popped into his head. Judd?
“Can you hear me now?” the voice snapped. It was gravelly. The poor audio quality didn’t help.
“Yes, that’s good,” Sonia said. “And your question?”
“Yeah,” CandyCam said. “What did you do?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jared said.
“What the fuck did you do to my boy?”
Jared reeled. Bobby Duncan.
“Listen up, caller,” Sonia said. “You can’t—”
“Shut up, bitch! He killed my son! Do you hear me, Collado? You killed my—”
Sonia pecked at her keyboard and disconnected the caller. She seemed just as shocked as her guest, and took a moment to gather herself. “I’m very sorry for that, Torch Falls.” She looked directly into her webcam. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Cole—”
Jared slammed his laptop shut.
Gateway Page 14
