JONATHAN EVISON

Wasn’t the return trip always faster? Didn’t it always work that way? So, why was it taking so damn long to get back down the mountain? Switchbacking down the steep grade into the basin, Abby slowed at every corner, yet still her tires protested at each turn, struggling for purchase. For all Abby knew, Laura had relocated years ago. Who knew if she had the same phone number at er all these years? And what if — in the unlikely event she was able to reach Laura — her old friend was unable to help her? A cold hand gripped her heart at the thought that she might have to face all this alone.

About four miles down the mountain, Abby i nally located a signal, and scrolled through her contacts, one eye on the road. Jesus, when did she collect so many contacts? McMillan, Nadler, Nelson, Lindstrom, Laura. Abby pressed dial, her eyes cycling between the rearview mirror and the road in front of her.

“Hello, Abigail.”

It was not the voice of Laura Lindstrom. Not even close.

“You know, there’s a little hot spot around mile

marker seven,” said Professor Naughton, pleased with himself. “You might have bought yourself a good ten minutes if you’d been paying attention. Not that it would have made a diference.”

“Why are you doing this?” she said. “Why is this happening?”

“Oh, make no mistake, Abigail,” said Professor Naughton. “You’re doing this, not me, not anybody else. It was you who contacted me.”

“What are you?”

“You know what I am.”

“Okay,” said Abby. “This is bullshit. You’re just talking in circles. I’m hanging up.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” said Professor Naughton.

“Yeah, well you’re not me, no matter what you say.” Abby hung up the phone, which began vibrating almost immediately. She picked it up in spite of herself.

“I must have lost you there around that last corner,” said Professor Naughton.

“No, I hung up.”

“Ah, well, anyway,” said Professor Naughton. “I’ve got somebody here who’s really eager to speak to you. You may not recognize her voice right of, that’s because — well, I’ll let her explain it.”

There was a brief pause as the phone changed hands. Then a voice.

“Abby? Is that you?”

Abby stopped breathing.