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“Where the fuck is Dash?” I growl when North fills us in. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Maybe the two events aren’t related. Maybe Candy just took off. She’s probably at home,” Frost says.
“She’s not. I checked the security footage,” North clarifies.
“I meant her actual home.”
Don’t know why he’s getting shitty and acting all unaffected. I’d wager that he’s got it as bad as the rest of us.
“I installed cameras outside both flats and set up alerts in case the vandals came back. There’s been nothing,” I explain, agitated. Every moment standing here supposing, gives Candy a chance to get further away from us.
“Yeah but the cameras on the car park here have clearly been tampered with, so who’s to say that those ones haven’t been too?”
I hate that Frost might be right – smug fucker – and the only way to check will be to go to each place ourselves.
“Fine. Let’s drive by. I’ll go to her old flat, Wint you go to the friend’s place.”
“I’ll look for Dash,” North offers.
“I’ll clear everything here and then call when I’m in the car to see where you need me.”
We’re just about to split when North’s phone pings. “Hold up, guys,” he says.
I freeze.
“I just got a ping on Dash’s phone.”
“Where is he?”
“On the outskirts of town.”
“Where? Should we go to him? They might be together.”
“He’s in Sycamore.”
I frown. Sycamore is right on the outskirts of Black Hallows and Hallows Creek, the next town over. We all know to stay the fuck out of there, so what the hell is Dash playing at?
“Should we still split?” I ask. “Or do we all go after Dash?”
“Let’s all go find Dash,” North decides. “Frost, get Vixen to lock up and come with us. If Candy isn’t with him he might at least have an idea where she is.”
We pile into our cars and tear out of the car park as fast as the weather will allow us. The snow is coming down heavily now and settling on the quiet roads. North takes the lead, using his phone to guide him to Dash’s last known location, and we all follow him. I know something bad is going to happen though, I can feel it in my gut. Nothing good ever happens in Sycamore, and I’m torn between praying Candy’s with him because then we can bring them both home safely, and praying that she isn’t because if Dash has willingly gone to Sycamore on Christmas Eve night, then he’s messed up in some bad shit.
As we approach the outskirts of Sycamore, my tension bleeds through my pores and taints the air. The snow is coming down hard, and the roads are slippery and treacherous. My heart is pounding as we follow North’s car, our headlights illuminating the deserted streets ahead of us. Dawn is only a few hours awaynow, and the only signs of life are the flickering streetlights and the occasional stray dog scurrying through the alleys.
We finally arrive at the location, and I pull up behind North’s car. Dash’s phone has gone dead, but this was his last known location so he has to be nearby. But as we step out of our cars and look around, it’s clear that something is very wrong.
The streets are empty, and there’s an eerie silence that hangs in the air. The buildings around us are old and decrepit, with broken windows and boarded-up doors. It’s the kind of place you’d expect to find drug dealers and criminals, and my blood runs cold.
“He’s not here,” I say.
“He was. He can’t have gone far, let’s split up and search for him,” North suggests.
We do, and I take off at a light jog, scanning every alleyway and calling his name.
There’s no one around. The streets are deserted. Whenever the occasional light clicks on, and the curtains twitch, the house is plunged back into darkness a moment later.
Fuck.
