Dead Of Winter (The Rift Book II) by Robert J. Duperre, Jesse David Young

Remember the dreams she did; calling out to him, pleading for help while her body rocked with pain and he stood helplessly on the threshold, as if a barrier a million miles thick separated them.
    It really was him.
    “So what if it is?” she said. Her head lolled and she faced Trudy again. “What good’s it gonna do me now?”
    “It is a start, Lady. You and he are providence. I hope you will find each other again, but we cannot think of that now, for you must do something first.”
    “And what’s that?”
    Trudy opened its cat-mouth, but shut it quickly. It then ambled about her and crouched down beside her ear. “Lady, do you remember how you arrived here?” it whispered.
    “No.”
    “Think.”
    Marcy closed her eyes. A scenario began to unfold behind her eyelids.
    “I’m starting to,” she said.
    “Tell me the story as it comes, Lady.”
    She took a deep breath and said, “I was in Pittsburgh . I went to school there. Working towards my Masters degree in fine art. It was morning, still dark. Scott Harris was with me. My boyfriend. We were edgy, because of everything that’d been happening on the news, and then everything went all wonky. Explosions, gunshots…you name it.” She stiffened. Sorrow tugged at her heart, and she continued as if in a trance. “Bullets bounced off the walls. We ran down an alley. Scott got shot in the head. He died right in front of me. I kept running. I ran until my feet burned. I fell. This guy came walking towards me. I couldn’t see who it was, but I needed help so I called out to him. He came closer. There was something wrong with his face. It was twisted, deformed. His teeth were huge. This can’t be real, it must’ve been a nightmare…but no, because he bit me on the shoulder…I couldn’t see anything for a while…by body ached…then light flashed in my eyes and I saw another man…a pretty guy, dark skin…I tried to ask for help but couldn’t make my jaw move…then blackness again…then dreams…I was in a prison, then a car, then in some ballroom, and now this…” she shook her head and pressed her palms into her forehead. Tears started to flow. “I’m sorry, Trudy. I’m not making sense. Everything’s all twisted together. I don’t know what’s real.”
    “It all is,” the cat child said.
    Marcy giggled beneath her tears. It sounded disturbing, even to her. “So am I sleeping?” she asked, her voice cracking.
    “No,” replied Trudy. “You are infected. He has infected you. That is why you are here – to stay hidden, to gather your strength, to be in a place where Percy cannot reach you.”
    Marcy wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, sat up, and glanced at the remaining two doors. She rose to her feet and stared them down. Her heart rate quickened. There was no need for instruction this time. She knew what she had to do.
    She grabbed the handle of the door closest to her and turned it. It wouldn’t budge.
    “It’s locked,” she said.
    “Yes. You need a key to open it.”
    “So where’s the key?”
    Trudy frowned and pointed in the other direction. “Through there.”
    “Okay then.”
    Turning on her heels, she went for it. Her fingers traced the wall as she walked. It felt cold and not very dream-like. A lump rose in her throat. By the time her hand touched the doorknob, it had progressed all the way into her sinuses.
    “Why am I so scared?” she whispered.
    “You already know why,” replied Trudy.
    “I think I do.”
    She opened the door and stared into a vast black void. She had to turn her head in order to take it in, fearing that to stare into its darkness would mean she’d be forever lost to it. Water dripped in the distance. Fear clenched her chest tight. Come on, just do it , she urged. She took a step forward.
    “Wait,” said Trudy. The cat child stood at her side and yanked on her tank top. “I must tell you something before you go.”
    “What?”
    “I…will not see you again, Lady. Not ever. My time is