over time, they grew to crave it. Entire settlements had been lost to their ravening. It had been ages—decades or more—since that had happened.
In recent years, they’d stuck to grabbing individuals or small groups, plucking them up in twos or threes, moving around like gypsies to avoid catching notice.
People tended to notice if too many people disappeared from one locale, after all.
One would think it would catch notice.
One would think…
Finn tapped his pen against his notepad, eyeing the list in front of him. He’d gone through the official missing persons databases, combed through them until his eyes bled.
Now, he was checking other avenues.
One in particular.
And what he found was disturbing.
People were searching for loved ones—without the aid of official help. Well, it seemed they’d tried.
A Facebook post.
Trying to find my sister. Was going on a weekend trip to Wales with BF, never came back. Authorities haven’t been able to help. She’s 28. They’re engaged to be married. Both of them are missing. Help us find them…
Evidence of another person who’d gone missing in Ireland—a twenty-two-year-old who’d wanted to backpack through the United Kingdom and Europe.
Have you seen my son? He left in April. We heard from him two weeks later, but nothing since. See site for info. REWARD! Please RT
On a website that looked like it was devoted to news of the weird and mysterious variety, there was a post about a large group that had gone missing—it listed names, dates of birth, pictures…and when Finn tried to run those names through a search engine just out of curiosity, he found Facebook pages for a couple of them. None had been updated in more than a year—the updates had all been prior to the previous April.
Finn hadn’t spent the past two decades hiding from encroaching technology. He’d actually almost welcomed it—a distraction, a way to keep his mind busy.
It took him very little time to unearth phone numbers, places of employment. He checked his watch—calculated the time difference. Close to five in California but worth a shot. One of the missing men had worked for a software company.
He dialed the number and waited until somebody picked up.
“Hello, I’m trying to reach Eric Burris.”
There was a faint pause—a clicking that he recognized as fingers striking on a keyboard. Then the woman on the other end replied, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Burris is no longer employed here. Would you like to speak somebody else?”
Finn ran his tongue across his teeth. “No. Thanks.”
He dialed another number.
When he was done, he’d contacted seven businesses…and he’d reached nobody.
He wasn’t lucky enough to actually get any information, but then again, he hadn’t really tried.
If they needed it, then Will could go after it and pluck it from a memory or whatever.
Finn had enough here to tell him something.
That group, eighteen in all, had disappeared while hiking in the Canadian Rockies. It was entirely possible they’d gotten lost. That did happen, he knew. But if they’d just gotten lost, why hadn’t somebody run up the flag over it? Called in for help?
Brooding, he hesitated only a minute before he made one more call.
The leader of the group led paid tours. He ran a small company with his wife and they’d been handling hiking and camping groups for nearly twenty years.
She came on the phone, her voice easy, relaxed.
“Hi, I’m looking to set up a camping trip into the Canadian Rockies…I heard Lewis Parnell out of Outdoor Express was the best there was. Would he be available in mid-June for a weeklong trip?”
The woman’s voice, just a moment ago, had been full of life, full of warmth.
Now, it was empty, flat. Cold.
“I’m afraid not. My husband left me, sir. I no longer go into the Rockies. Have a good day.”
“Wait,” he barked it out.
She responded, almost dazed. That got to him, more than anything else.
“Did you divorce?”
It was a
In recent years, they’d stuck to grabbing individuals or small groups, plucking them up in twos or threes, moving around like gypsies to avoid catching notice.
People tended to notice if too many people disappeared from one locale, after all.
One would think it would catch notice.
One would think…
Finn tapped his pen against his notepad, eyeing the list in front of him. He’d gone through the official missing persons databases, combed through them until his eyes bled.
Now, he was checking other avenues.
One in particular.
And what he found was disturbing.
People were searching for loved ones—without the aid of official help. Well, it seemed they’d tried.
A Facebook post.
Trying to find my sister. Was going on a weekend trip to Wales with BF, never came back. Authorities haven’t been able to help. She’s 28. They’re engaged to be married. Both of them are missing. Help us find them…
Evidence of another person who’d gone missing in Ireland—a twenty-two-year-old who’d wanted to backpack through the United Kingdom and Europe.
Have you seen my son? He left in April. We heard from him two weeks later, but nothing since. See site for info. REWARD! Please RT
On a website that looked like it was devoted to news of the weird and mysterious variety, there was a post about a large group that had gone missing—it listed names, dates of birth, pictures…and when Finn tried to run those names through a search engine just out of curiosity, he found Facebook pages for a couple of them. None had been updated in more than a year—the updates had all been prior to the previous April.
Finn hadn’t spent the past two decades hiding from encroaching technology. He’d actually almost welcomed it—a distraction, a way to keep his mind busy.
It took him very little time to unearth phone numbers, places of employment. He checked his watch—calculated the time difference. Close to five in California but worth a shot. One of the missing men had worked for a software company.
He dialed the number and waited until somebody picked up.
“Hello, I’m trying to reach Eric Burris.”
There was a faint pause—a clicking that he recognized as fingers striking on a keyboard. Then the woman on the other end replied, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Burris is no longer employed here. Would you like to speak somebody else?”
Finn ran his tongue across his teeth. “No. Thanks.”
He dialed another number.
When he was done, he’d contacted seven businesses…and he’d reached nobody.
He wasn’t lucky enough to actually get any information, but then again, he hadn’t really tried.
If they needed it, then Will could go after it and pluck it from a memory or whatever.
Finn had enough here to tell him something.
That group, eighteen in all, had disappeared while hiking in the Canadian Rockies. It was entirely possible they’d gotten lost. That did happen, he knew. But if they’d just gotten lost, why hadn’t somebody run up the flag over it? Called in for help?
Brooding, he hesitated only a minute before he made one more call.
The leader of the group led paid tours. He ran a small company with his wife and they’d been handling hiking and camping groups for nearly twenty years.
She came on the phone, her voice easy, relaxed.
“Hi, I’m looking to set up a camping trip into the Canadian Rockies…I heard Lewis Parnell out of Outdoor Express was the best there was. Would he be available in mid-June for a weeklong trip?”
The woman’s voice, just a moment ago, had been full of life, full of warmth.
Now, it was empty, flat. Cold.
“I’m afraid not. My husband left me, sir. I no longer go into the Rockies. Have a good day.”
“Wait,” he barked it out.
She responded, almost dazed. That got to him, more than anything else.
“Did you divorce?”
It was a
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