Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Such a simple concept, recognition. And yet one so difficult to get your arms around. Because so often we’re looking for the wrong goddamn thing in the wrong goddamn places. Which is not to suggest that there are “right” places. Just that if you’re looking over your shoulder, you’ll not see what’s coming.
Which is why I keep my eyes focused on the sunset.
The day is almost done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ALEC
THEN.
There is a tickle. In my brain. An annoying, unceasing scraping.
Gorny. Mr. Gorny.
I’m uncertain why the name feels like something I should know, but it does.
I glance over my shoulder at Christine and Eliza’s car behind us.
Danny’s been fidgeting relentlessly since Christine got sick. Biting at his nails. Which is a habit I’ve known him to have but one I haven’t witnessed in a long time.
We’ve been riding in proper silence for nearly three and a half hours now.
London to Belfast, back to London, then to Vienna, and now almost four hours in this car, with a brief pitstop for Christine to be sick. I didn’t even notice we had turned off the Autobahn. I was so lost in my thoughts and willing myself not to show anything other than bored indifference, I lost track of time. The sun is now very low in the sky indeed. But there is still enough daylight that I can see…
… monkeys?
There are monkeys everywhere.
My breath catches. This is… this is almost exactly like…
Why are they here? In the middle of Austria? Why did our driver speak in Tswana before? What is a Bantu oke doing driving us from Vienna to wherever we are now? I find myself having a hard time swallowing. I feel hot. What is happening?
I don’t know and am having trouble imagining, but all along the side of the road and the accompanying, heavily forested surroundings, there they are: monkeys.
Danny looks out, sees the little simians darting all about as well and looks at me with an entirely appropriate “what the fok” expression. I turn to the window once more and actually make eye contact with one of the creatures. It feels as though she’s trying to communicate something to me. I don’t know what. I can just feel it. Something along the lines of…
Turn back.
“We are arriving, gentlemen,” says our escort in the front seat.
His voice pulls my eye to the windshield, which allows me to see it looming ahead…
CHRISTINE
“The castle,” I must mumble audibly, because Eliza asks…
“What?”
I flash my eyes toward the driver to let Eliza know that I can’t say more right now. Or at least that I don’t think I should. The driver doesn’t appear to glance back at me in the rearview, just maintains his focus on the twisting road ahead of us leading to…
Ms. Keene. Mr. van den Berg. Allow me to introduce Mr. Gorny.
Me. Lars. The man with the glasses.
I’ve met him before. I was with him when he introduced me and Lars to the man with the scar.
Mr. Gorny. Mr… Alexei Gorny.
That’s his name. Alexei Gorny. This is where I met him. Here at this castle. He summoned us. Why? Why why why why why? Goddamnit, Christine, think.
Why were you here? What did this Gorny want?
“There is a thorn. It is in my side. I would like you to remove it.”
That’s why I was on the roof.
I was removing a thorn.
With a sniper rifle.
I need to tell them. I need to tell Alec and Danny I remember something. It may not be useful, but some information is better than none. I’ve been to this castle. They need to know.
I pull out my phone and starting texting them both:
I remember—
Which is about all I’m able to peck out before a wave of nausea takes over.
I slide the phone back in my pocket and put my hand over my mouth, making little grunting sounds, trying to keep myself from throwing up yet again. Although what would come up at this point is likely nothing. I’m not sure I have a lot left to give.
And then I feel…
A hand. On my hand. The one I have resting on my thigh. Or, more accurately, the one gripping my thigh as I strive to not paint the interior of this car with whatever might remain in the interior of me.
And now Eliza’s hand is sliding around to take my hand and is squeezing it. My hand. She’s just straight up holding my hand.
What is happening?
DANNY
I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Because looking up at the castle, I get this weird sensation that I know it. Like I’ve seen it before. Shit. When? I think, maybe, I dreamed about it? Did I?
And then I realize that I did. When I was asleep. On the train. I dreamed about this place. There was shouting and chaos and…
And suddenly the bad feelings about this shit that have been building and building and building are done building and are now full-blown towering structures of anxiety.