Chapter 78 Chapter Twenty Five
I searched for my phone, fingers diving into the cluttered chaos of my bag — receipts, a cracked mirror compact, a half-eaten mint. Everything except the damn phone. “Come on,” I muttered, my pulse flickering with impatience until I finally felt the rough glass under my fingertips.
The screen still bore the faint fracture lines from that night — the night I touched the book. The phone broke as a result of the vision I got.
The repair shop was halfway across town. I stood there for nearly an hour, leaning against the wall while the technician pried open the back panel and replaced the screen.
By the time I got to the police station, the rain had stopped, leaving the air cool and heavy with the scent of wet asphalt. I pushed through the glass doors, nodding to the officer at the front desk.
Ezekiel was inside, exactly where I expected him to be — uniform jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, his badge clipped loosely to his belt. He was bent over a report when he looked up, immediately reading something in my face that made him straighten.
“Salem,” he said, cautious but warm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said, though my voice carried a restless edge. “I just… I think I’ve found something about Vale.”
That got his full attention. He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. “Sit. Start from the top.”
I dropped into the chair, twisting my repaired phone between my palms. “I’ve been trying to piece together where he could’ve gone or where someone might’ve taken him. It’s not clear, but there’s this place I keep thinking about. Not because I’ve been there, but because I once saw it in old papers, or maybe photos - I’m not even sure anymore. It keeps sticking in my mind.”
I couldn't tell him I saw the location in a vision. It would be more believable if I said I found it in an old photo.
He picked up a notepad, the same one I'd seen him use before, and clicked his pen. “Alright. What do you remember about it?”
I took a breath. “It’s old. A manor or lodge, I can’t tell which. Somewhere isolated, surrounded by pine woods. There’s a dirt road that branches off from the main highway, long and narrow, half-covered in moss. At the end of it, there’s a wrought-iron gate. One side still standing, the other hanging crooked, like it’s been torn off its hinges. The paint on the main building is washed out. The windows are boarded up, but light leaks through the cracks.”
He was already scribbling. “Any name? Town nearby?”
I frowned, shaking my head slowly. “There was a sign, maybe. Faded white letters on a wooden board. I could only make out part of it—something Creek. Hollow Creek, maybe? I don’t know. There was also water close by, like a lake or stream.”
Ezekiel nodded, jotting every detail, his brow furrowed in thought. “Alright. I’ll run searches on Hollow Creek, abandoned properties, and anything that matches the structure you described. But it might take a while.”
“How long is a while?” I asked, impatiently tapping my foot.
He gave me a look. “A couple of days, maybe three. You’re not the only one who has to go through old files and property archives, you know.”
I exhaled. “I just don’t want to lose time.”
“I get that,” he said gently. “But charging into the woods blind won’t help him. Let me find the place first.”
I hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But call me the second you find anything.”
“Promise.”
I rose to leave, and for a second, his hand hovered like he might stop me but he didn’t. He just watched me go, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t name.
\---
Three days later, my phone rang.
I answered before the second buzz. “Ezekiel?”
“Yeah. I think I’ve got something.”
My pulse jumped. “You found it?”
“Maybe. Come to the station immediately,” Ezekiel sounded urgent, and I quickly hailed a cab to the station.
And immediately, I saw him; I grabbed his arm desperately. “You said you found something!”
Ezekiel sighed as he spoke, “I traced your ‘Hollow Creek’ lead. There’s a small town by that name on the outskirts of Greystone, population under two hundred. Just outside it, there’s an abandoned estate, matches most of what you described. Used to belong to a hunting club back in the sixties. It’s been off-grid for years.”
“Send me the address.”
He hesitated. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Ezekiel—”
“I’m serious. That place is isolated. No signal, no cameras, no one to call if something happens.”
I stood, “Ezekiel, I can't waste more time. If we wait—”
He inhaled, the motion tight. “Then we get there fast. I’ll run the forensics team if it becomes necessary. But Salem—”
“No,” I said quickly. “If he’s being held there, a team will blow it. Whoever’s there will panic and move him. I can’t risk that.”
Ezekiel’s tone dropped an octave. “You’re not going alone.”
“I won’t be alone.” I forced a half-smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “You’ll be following me.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You know this is insane, right? I could lose my badge for letting you anywhere near a potential crime scene.”
“And if you don’t, we might lose him.” My words came out soft but sharp enough to cut through his hesitation.
He sighed. “You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Then he swore under his breath and pulled his keys from his pocket. “We will be moving tomorrow, but first, I need to obtain a permit for leave. The plan is like this, Take my car, I’ll be right behind you. You see anything, anything, you signal me. Don’t get out of that car until I tell you it’s clear and don’t play hero, understood?”
I met his eyes. “Understood.”
“Deal.”
He exhaled again, muttering something that sounded like you’re gonna get me fired before walking off.
The next day, at exactly 8pm in the night, I stood by the curb outside his apartment. Ezekiel's silent car arrived discreetly. He handed me the keys without meeting my eyes, jaw tight, like he already regretted it.
He hesitated, adding with a rough edge I recognized as his version of tenderness, “You keep breathing, Salem. Don’t—don’t do anything reckless.”
I smiled faintly. “I won't.”
He just shook his head, retreating to his own car.
When I slid behind the wheel, my hands trembled just a little. The headlights sliced through the dark as I drove out of the city.
In my rearview mirror, Ezekiel’s car followed — headlights steady, close enough to watch me, far enough to pretend I didn’t know he was there.
And somewhere, far beyond the reach of the city lights, the woods were waiting.