Ыоуве Been Warned   ::   Patterson James

The driver skids to a halt behind another cab, a Checker, sandwiched in by a city bus that’s blowing hot smoke.

“Here!” I say, pushing money through the divider. “Take it. Keep the change!”

“Hope you make your class, sweetheart.”

I bolt from the backseat and start running, my heart pounding as fast as my feet are moving. And I’m so scared.

Why, Michael, why? Don’t throw everything away. Don’t throw us away. Or the kids.

All I can see in my head are the images from the hotel, what was in my dream and what I captured on film. The procession of gurneys being wheeled out. And then – I think of my other time at the Fálcon. Three years ago with Boston Matthew. Coincidence? I doubt it. But I don’t want to think about it now. I couldn’t if I wanted to.

Hurry! Just hurry.

Stay in the moment.

I hear a siren warbling up ahead, and my heart sinks, my legs actually buckle, and I nearly fall.

I’m too late. I blew it.

No – it’s a fire engine heading downtown, a blur of red shooting by a block away on Madison. The blare of the siren trails off, restoring hope. What is with the Fálcon Hotel, anyway?

I’m almost there. The burn from my legs is moving up to my lungs. It feels like a load of bricks has been dumped on my chest. But I don’t dare stop running. Nothing can make me stop.

Then, something does.



Chapter 100



MY CELL PHONE RINGS.

Michael! This has to be him!

I cut sharply to my right on the sidewalk, pulling up alongside a building. Barely able to catch my breath, I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

It’s not him.

“Is this Kristin Burns?” I hear. It’s a woman. I don’t recognize the voice, but she sounds upset. Oh man, this is no time for more pranks from the dark side.

“Yes.”

“This is Madeline Sturges from Preston Academy. I’ve tried to reach both Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull. To no avail. And you’re listed here as another contact -”

“What’s wrong?” I interrupt.

There’s a silence, and I can practically feel the woman’s anxiety through the phone. “It’s Dakota,” she says. “She told a classmate that she needed to go find someone.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“She’s missing from school. We’ve looked everywhere. Dakota’s gone.”

The phone drops from my hand. Before it hits the sidewalk, I’m sprinting again. Faster than ever.

Four gurneys.

Please, God. Don’t let this happen.