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Prologue

One Year Ago

Gabi’s eyes drooped. She closed one eye for a moment, squinting at the dark and deserted road ahead with the other. Her headlights illuminated a portion of the narrow road, but beyond that light there was nothing. She might as well be driving into a black hole. Driving with one eye open wasn’t safe at all; she could feel herself drifting toward sleep, so she forced both eyes open wide.

She’d been driving for too long, was tired to the bone, but she didn’t dare stop. Her fear was stronger than any physical or mental exhaustion. She wasn’t far enough away, she wasn’t safe. Was any place in this world safe?

Instinct and an old map — an actual folded paper map since she’d dumped her cell phone somewhere on the shoulder of I-75 as she left Florida — had led her to this narrow and occasionally bumpy Alabama road. It had been hours since she’d seen another vehicle, but who in their right mind would be on this road, or any other, in the middle of the night?

Both eyes drifted shut, just for a moment. When she swerved and almost drove into a ditch, she jerked awake, heart pounding, breath coming too hard.

Mia, snugly secured in the car seat behind Gabi, stirred. She cooed.

Gabi gripped the steering wheel tighter. She leaned forward, forcing herself into an uncomfortable position. Maybe she was willing to risk her own life in order to escape, but she wouldn’t risk her child’s life for any reason.

Mia must’ve agreed, and in her own infant way made sure her mother was wide awake. Oh, that smell! How could something so adorable and beautiful create a stink like that? This was her punishment for supplementing with formula. It obviously didn’t agree with Mia. A soft cry followed the arrival of the smell. That cry soon turned into an ear-splitting scream.

Gabi hadn’t seen a gas station or any other sign of life for a while, but luck was with her. The car’s headlights illuminated a turn ahead. She glanced down at the dashboard. She’d need gas soon, but right now all she needed was a place to park for a couple of hours. She’d change and feed Mia, and then they’d both sleep.

He wouldn’t find them here. Not for a while, anyway. What about tomorrow, or next week? She’d drive herself crazy if she went there, so she focused on tonight, this road, on right now. There was nothing else.

When she finally reached the turn off, she took it slowly. Gabi found herself on another narrow road; there wasn’t even much of a shoulder. Nothing was directly ahead. Nothing at all. There were no streetlights here, no life on the side of the road, so she had to go by what her headlights showed her. She turned on her brights. There still wasn’t anything much to see.

How far should she go before she turned around? No. Turning back wasn’t an option. There had to be something ahead. A house or a business. A wider spot on the shoulder of the road. Something. Anything…

The driveway to the left sprung into view without much warning, but Gabi was driving slowly enough to take it. She expected to see a house ahead, but instead there was an industrial-looking windowless building that appeared to be abandoned. This time of night, it was impossible to tell. She drove to the front of the building, parked, and turned off her headlights.

What she really wanted to do was sleep, but like any mother she had things to take care of before she could even think of sleeping. Gabi opened the door on the damp, brisk chill of early March in the South, and quickly moved around the car and into the back seat. She changed Mia’s diaper, put the foul thing in an empty grocery bag, tied it tightly, and opened the door just long enough to drop it on the ground and then slam the door on the cold air. That done, she bared one breast. Snug in her arms, Mia fed with relish.

Gabi held her daughter close and shut her eyes. She’d known from the moment she’d suspected she was pregnant that she’d love her child, but the power of that love continued to overwhelm her. She kissed the top of Mia’s head, breathing in that special baby smell which was so sweet it more than made up for the other baby smell, which wasn’t so sweet. She didn’t know what tomorrow or the next day or the next would bring, could barely stand to think beyond the next few hours. But in this moment, her world was fine.

Mia fed well, then Gabi righted her clothes and made sure the baby was snugly wrapped in her blanket. Inside the car was warm enough; she didn’t feel any cold creeping in, yet. She held her daughter close and they both slept. For Gabi it was a hard sleep, without dreams. Without fear.

Her eyes flew open suddenly as her body jerked awake. The sky was gray with a winter morning light. Dawn was coming, and with it another uncertain day. The interior of the car wasn’t as warm as it had been when she’d drifted off. How far could she drive today? Where could she go? She had no answers, no plan at all beyond moving. Escape. Safety.

She eased a sleeping Mia back into her car seat, then opened the car door. It seemed even colder than it had a couple of hours ago. She was tempted to leave the bag-o-stink where it lay, but no matter how desperate she was, she wouldn’t do that to someone else, wouldn’t leave her mess for someone else to clean up. She snatched up the bag and rounded the building, looking for a garbage can. She found one and tossed the bagged diaper into it.

As she walked back toward the car, wondering where she’d stop next, she heard a howl in the distance. The wail was quickly followed by another, and then another. Wild dogs, most likely. Surely there weren’t wolves here in southern Alabama. She increased her pace and jogged back to the car, jumped into the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. Yeah, because a locked door would help if there were wild dogs, or worse, on the other side of the building.

She started the car. The time illuminated on the dashboard showed she’d gotten almost three hours of sleep. That wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing and she did feel better. More alert, at least.

Gabi took stock as she backed up and then turned around to head out of the parking lot. She had enough cash to last her for a few weeks, a suitcase crammed with her clothes and Mia’s, a decent supply of diapers, and a few bottles of formula. There was a case of water and two boxes of protein bars in the trunk. She’d prepared for this as best she could, all things considered. It would’ve been nice if she’d had more time, but circumstances had made that impossible.

When she reached the road, she turned right. Mia immediately started to cry. It wasn’t an I’m uncomfortable mewl, it was yet another ear-splitting scream. A child not yet three months old shouldn’t be able to make that much noise!

Gabi stopped, put the car in reverse, and backed into the parking lot, gravel crunching under the tires as she eased away from the road. The screaming stopped. She glanced over the seat to Mia, who kicked her feet and smiled. Okay, that was weird. Again, Gabi pulled forward slowly. Even the slightest turn to the right triggered the scream.

After the third time, she decided to experiment. She turned left, glancing into the back seat so she could judge the baby’s response.

No scream. In fact, Mia kicked her fat little legs, waved her arms, and cooed up a storm.

“Well, that’s weird,” Gabi whispered. She continued on. If she remembered the map correctly the river was straight ahead, to the east. Maybe there was a vacation community, a few fishing cabins and boat docks. She glanced down at the fuel gauge. A gas station would be great.

She passed a battered sign which welcomed her to Mystic Springs, whatever that was. As they drove past that sign, Mia made a series of new sounds. She blew air through her lips, cooed contentedly, and made a noise that was suspiciously like a giggle. Her little arms and legs danced with enthusiasm.

Okay, so her infant was making the decisions now. How was that any worse than the circumstances that had brought them here?

She passed a few residential streets to the right, but kept going until the road ended.