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Last Seen
They are the perfect family.
But perfection is fragile.
Cal Hudson knows the world can be an ugly place. As a reporter for a big Chicago newspaper, Cal has journeyed into society’s darkest corners to expose the vilest crimes. But the world he and his devoted wife, Faith, share with their son is much nicer. They have made sure of it, creating a tranquil haven in suburban River Ridge to protect the person most precious to them.
Until the unthinkable happens, and nine-year-old Gage vanishes.
In a split second at a local carnival, the Hudson’s storybook world begins unraveling. A frantic search starts to uncover splinters in their carefully crafted facade, revealing buried secrets that cast just as much suspicion on Cal and Faith as any ill-meaning stranger, and proving that the line between love and violence can disappear as suddenly as a child on a chaotic midway.
Also by Rick Mofina
FREE FALL
FULL TILT
EVERY SECOND
WHIRLWIND
INTO THE DARK
THEY DISAPPEARED
THE BURNING EDGE
IN DESPERATION
THE PANIC ZONE
VENGEANCE ROAD
SIX SECONDS
Other books by Rick Mofina
A PERFECT GRAVE
EVERY FEAR
THE DYING HOUR
BE MINE
NO WAY BACK
BLOOD OF OTHERS
COLD FEAR
IF ANGELS FALL
BEFORE SUNRISE
THE ONLY HUMAN
For more information, please visit www.rickmofina.com.
Last Seen
Rick Mofina
Copyright
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Highway Nine Inc 2018
Rick Mofina asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © February 2018 ISBN: 9781474074780
Version: 2018-01-22
This book is for my hero, my father
Praise for the novels of Rick Mofina
“Rick Mofina’s books are edge-of-your seat thrilling. Page turners that don’t let up.”
—Louise Penny, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Six Seconds should be Rick Mofina’s breakout thriller. It moves like a tornado.”
—James Patterson, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Six Seconds is a great read. Echoing Ludlum and Forsythe, author Mofina has penned a big, solid international thriller that grabs your gut—and your heart—in the opening scenes and never lets go.”
—Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author
“The Panic Zone is a headlong rush toward Armageddon. Its brisk pace and tight focus remind me of early Michael Crichton.”
—Dean Koontz, #1 New York Times bestselling author
“Rick Mofina’s tense, taut writing makes every thriller he writes an adrenaline-packed ride.”
—Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author
“Mofina’s clipped prose reads like short bursts of gunfire.”
—Publishers Weekly on No Way Back
“Mofina is one of the best thriller writers in the business.”
—Library Journal (starred review) on They Disappeared
“Vengeance Road is a thriller with no speed limit! It’s a great read!”
—Michael Connelly, #1 New York Times bestselling author
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Praise
Epigraph
The First Day
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The Second Day
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
The Third Day
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
The Fourth Day
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
The Fifth Day
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Epilogue
Acknowledgments & Author’s Note
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind...
—William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part III, act 5, scene 6
The First Day
1
River Ridge, Illinois
“You’re doomed!” the fat man on the stool said.
He was missing two lower front teeth. Peppered stubble whorled on his cheeks; vines of long hair framed his face. His eyes locked on Gage as he extended his hand, raising his voice over the chaos of the midway.
“Give me your ticket, kid.”
Smiling, Gage placed his ticket in the man’s red-stained palm, then raised his voice. “Hey, is that real blood?”
“You tell me, kid. Look where fate has brought you.” The fat man cast his tattooed arm back to the huge arching sign bearing blood-dripping words that proclaimed the attraction.
The Chambers of Dread: America’s Biggest Traveling World of Horrors!
“This is so cool!” Gage said.
“Cool? How old is your young soul?”
“What?”
“How old are you?”
“Nine!”
The man’s eyes narrowed into reptilian slits as he assessed Gage, then his dad, then his mom. They stayed on Mom long enough to border on being unsavory before coming back to Gage. Then the man knocked on the wooden advisory bolted to the metal barricade next to him.
Warning! This attraction may be too intense for pregnant women and people with heart conditions. It is not recommended for children under the age of 12 unless they are accompanied by an adult.
A fat finger, tipped with a long, yellowed and chipped fingernail, pointed at Gage. “Mark my words, kid. These Chambers is cursed. No one who enters is ever the same when, and if, they leave. Now’s the time to run home with your mama. Otherwise, move ahead. Next! You, there! You’re doomed!”
“Whoa!” Gage’s laugh betrayed excited nervousness as he and his parents inched forward in the crowded line that snaked between barricades to the entrance. The aroma of deep-fried food, grilled meat and cotton candy wafted from the food stands. He felt his mother’s hands on his shoulders before she leaned into his ear.
“You’re sure you’re okay to do this, sweetie? You’re not too scared?”
“Mom, I’m not scared!”
“We could skip this and get something to eat over there.”
“He’s fine, Faith. You’re always babying him,” Gage’s dad said, while checking messages on his phone and texting responses.
Always working, Faith Hudson thought, irritated. It was as if his phone was part of his anatomy. Now he was dialing.
“Seriously, you’re calling someone?”
Phone pressed to his ear, Cal flashed his free palm to Faith, signaling her to quiet down. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating, then said what she was thinking. “And I was going to thank you for making time for us today.”
Cal never heard her, focused on his call. “Yeah, it’s Hudson,” he said into the receiver. “You gotta tell Stu the number’s wrong in the story—it’s fifty thousand, not five... Right. Good. Bye.”
He turned to his wife. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”
“Nothing.”
Cal looked at her for a long moment while across from them the Polar Rocket erupted with a diesel roar, frenzied squeals and Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song. After absorbing everything that Faith’s silence screamed at him, Cal leaned into her ear.
“I had to make that call—it was important.”
“They’re always important calls.”
“I had to correct an editing error. What were you trying to tell me?”
She stared at him. “I was going to thank you for making time to be with us, but you’re not with us. You’re working.”
“Cripes. I’m here, Faith.”
“Are you?”
“Please, don’t start.”
“No, no, I’m not.” Faith glimpsed the family behind them, the mother and father awkwardly pretending not to be watching them. Immediately Faith rubbed Cal’s shoulder lovingly and smiled for all to see. “Everything’s fine. Really.”
Sure, everything’s perfect, Calvin Hudson told himself, turning from Faith and scanning the top of the Mega-Roller Ferris wheel. She’d never truly understood his work, he thought. He was a journalist; it was in his DNA. The demands were 24/7. She never really grasped how deeply involved he was with his stories. He couldn’t just switch it off, like she insisted; or like she could at the PR firm. Now there were rumors of layoffs at his paper, the Chicago Star-News, making him uneasy. He had to work that much harder to prove he was still valuable to his editors. Jobs in the business were scarce. But the way Faith had said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get by on my salary and you’ll find something else,” had wounded him. How could she be so dismissive, as if his position in life didn’t matter, as if she wanted him to lose his job. She had no clue how much he’d given to it—his blood, sweat and tears along with much of his soul. She had no idea the things he’d done.
And if Cal’s uncertainty about his job at the paper wasn’t bad enough, the situation at home was worse. He and Faith were no longer as intimate as they used to be. She had grown colder over the past few years. Their lovemaking was infrequent. Her displays of affection—spontaneous handholding, touching or even kissing, which used to be common—were now rare.
She’d become more impatient, more demanding. And the way she babied Gage... “Is your pizza too hot for you? Want me to cut it for you? Maybe that movie’s too scary for you?” The boy was nine. And he clearly hated when his mother treated him this way. It was no wonder Gage lived for any free time with his dad—with Faith, it was as if he was drowning and desperate to come up for air.
But no one knew that Cal and Faith were grappling with these problems—not their relatives, not their friends. “We don’t need everyone to know our business,” Faith had decreed.
In keeping with a job as a public relations manager, appearances were important to Faith.
Given her personality and her professional skills, she was good at hiding the truth when it counted. Maybe that’s why buried in a corner of Cal’s heart was the fear that Faith would take Gage and leave. Cal would never see it coming.
He forced himself to shift away from all these thoughts and stay positive. He found comfort in the line he had on a potential reporting job overseas. The chances that he’d get it were slim, but if he did it would mean a big change in their lives.
Still, no matter what he and Faith felt, Gage came first.
Cal looked at his son, thinking that he must sense his parents were having problems.
Like powerful telescopes scouring space for signs of life, kids like Gage could pick up infinitesimal traces of parental discord. They’d internalize it without voicing a word, while alone at night in their beds they’d hope and pray that everything between Mom and Dad would be okay.
Looking at Gage in his beloved Cubs cap and T-shirt, the one with the faded mustard stain, his khaki shorts and sneakers, Cal felt a surge of love for his son. He would do anything for him.
No matter what problems Cal and Faith had, they needed to show Gage that they were still a family intact; that’s why they were here at the River Ridge Summer Carnival. Every year the big traveling midway of games and thrill rides visited their suburb on Chicago’s West Side for ten days. Gage had ached to come, specifically to respond to the double dares from his friends about going through the Chambers of Dread.
“Marshall and Colton said they were going to get their parents to come to the fair today, too. I hope so because if I see them I’m gonna tell them, ‘In your face, dudes! I conquered the Chambers of Dread!’”
Cal mussed Gage’s hair, smiling and thinking that maybe this fear, the kind that was manufactured and sold, would take their minds off the real things they feared in their lives. Maybe for a short time they could pretend to be a happy family.
Cal glanced back at the fat man on the stool, saw him raise a walkie-talkie and say something into it.
The Hudsons were next in line.
As they entered the Chambers of Dread through the yawning jaws of the Demon King, the carnival barker’s warning of doom echoed.
Cal and Faith exchanged measured looks before they and Gage stepped into the darkness.
2
Thick waist-high fog enveloped the Hudsons in the dim light; wisps of it curled around Gage’s chest as they began their journey through the Chambers of Dread. Screams from the unseen visitors mingled with moaning in the darkness ahead of them. They moved toward ominous rumbling, coming to a passageway formed by a large, tunnellike drum, continually spinning, inviting visitors to step through the Portal to the Grim World Beyond, according to the twisted neon sign above it.
Keeping their balance while walking through the portal with a few other people, the Hudsons found a deeper darkness on the other side and began moving slowly through a maze when a large, cloaked figure emerged in front of them.
“Oh my God!” Faith gasped as the figure raised a severed human head before them, then vanished.
“It’s not real, Mom!” Gage laughed.
“I know, sweetie. It just startled me. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, this is so dope!”
But the underlying nervousness in Gage’s voice worried Faith, making her wonder if he’d be okay. Especially with what seemed to be up ahead.
Agonizing pleas beckoned them to the Dungeons of Dread and a darkened narrow walkway that reeked of rotten eggs and had water trickling down its jagged stone walls.
“Oh, no, let go! No!” a teenager ahead of them shrieked.
Something scratched at Faith’s ankles. Then it gripped them before she kicked free. Looking to her feet she saw clawlike hands reaching out from barred windows where the condemned, confined in a subterranean prison, grabbed desperately at them, calling, “Save us! Don’t leave us!”
Hurrying through the dungeons, the Hudsons came to another dark twisting connection echoing with wails, growing louder as they got closer to the next chamber.
There, the entire scene glowed in flickering orange, yellow and red as flames licked from a massive mound of wood and bramble. A large post protruded from the center. Bound to it, a woman wrapped in a white nightshirt, her head shorn, face glistening, her eyes inflamed, screeched, “So you think burning me, the witch queen, will be my end! Fools! I curse you all! I’ll torment you from hell!”
The temperature soared, giving the scene a heightened degree of authenticity. Faith saw one man point out for his wife how the flames were controlled from a gas line, that the wood pile was a prop, like the gas fireplace in an expensive home.
“Did you hear me?” the witch queen screamed. “You’re all cursed! Forever!”
Faith found kinship with the witch queen.
Her writhing against her bindings echoed how Faith felt, bound to her heartache. Cal had grown distant over the last couple years and she didn’t know why. After one of his big stories he’d grow pensive. Faith didn’t know what was happening with him. Whenever she tried to talk about it, he’d shut her down. He’d become absorbed in his work and was never home. She was always alone, making her feel that he preferred the long hours of working with cops, criminals and street-smart, pretty female reporters to being with her.
Had he fallen out of love with her? Once, she’d overheard him on a call joking to someone that journalists were truth seekers and PR people were professional liars. Did he feel that way about her? Most of her work was for big nonprofit groups and charities, and that was the only time she’d heard him talk that way, so she let it go.
Or tried to.
Faith needed to hold things together for Gage’s sake. But it wasn’t easy. She knew Gage idolized his father and lived for any free moment Cal spared for him. But it only happened when it was convenient for Cal. How many times had he canceled at the last minute on promised father-son days to see a movie, or the Cubs, or check out video games because he had to work late?
Gage was crushed every time. He was resilient, but still, it broke Faith’s heart.
Cal had promised her that he would leave the crime beat and advance up the editorial ladder toward a more stable job and life. It never happened—and she knew it never would because he loved what he was doing. That’s why she saw the looming layoffs at the paper as a chance for him to start something new, for them to reconnect. Because little by little she felt something was slipping away from them. They were growing apart, forcing Faith to take a hard look at taking control of matters because she and Cal couldn’t go on like this.
They used to be so much in love. What was happening to them?
The cries of the witch queen soon faded as the Hudsons navigated another labyrinthian connection to the next chamber where they were met by the distinct sound of vigorous chopping. Then, emerging in the gloomy darkness, they saw a man in a blood-streaked apron swinging a cleaver, blood running down his arm while he chopped slabs of meat on a table.
“Whoa!” Gage said. “It’s the insane butcher!”
Legs and arms, some twitching, were displayed on the hooks and chains near the butcher as he worked. His hair as wild as Medusa’s, his face contorted and smeared with blood, as he stopped his work to offer the Hudsons delicacies from an array of bowls. One was filled with eyeballs, one brimmed with fingers and another held brains.
“Gross!” Gage laughed.
“No, thanks,” Cal said.
As the Hudsons moved on with a small group, the light grew increasingly darker, making it nearly impossible to see each other, let alone Gage’s face. The actors and sets were of a higher caliber than Faith had anticipated and she worried that Gage was going to have nightmares after this.
She reached for his hand but he shook her attempt away.
“I’m not a baby, Mom!”
Suddenly the air filled with a loud hellish combination of perverted circus music and a thousand fingernails scraping on chalkboards. They came to a clown, malevolent makeup covering his face. Enormous fangs jutted from his head. He sat before an organ on a stool of bones while playing a demonic tune on a keyboard of little skulls, offering entertainment at the gateway to the next chamber.
