Prologue

Early October

The noise kept pounding at her, harder and harder, louder and louder. It felt like the blow of a sledgehammer against her body. How could these people stand it? They were all behaving so normally, like they couldn’t feel it. How could they not? It was making her sick, but those around her were talking and laughing as though they were oblivious to the debilitating racket.

She was getting lightheaded and felt sweat break out on her forehead. The clamor kept bouncing off the walls and ceiling, slamming into her. Her head felt like it was going to shatter into a million pieces. The building she was in was cavernous, every sound reverberating innumerable times. She was going to be violently ill. She had to get out of there. Now!

Close to being in a full-blown panic, she searched desperately for a sign for the ladies’ restroom. With darting eyes she finally spotted one on the other side of the room, unconsciously whimpered in relief, and ran over. Locating the entrance to the bathroom, she quickly ducked inside. There was an immediate respite from the outside din. She hurried to an empty stall, gagging as she went, and locked herself in. She turned to the toilet just in time to empty the contents of her heaving stomach into the white porcelain bowl. She continued to vomit until there was nothing left to bring up. Then she dry-heaved until her stomach felt like it was twisted into a tight knot, her throat strained and raw. Finally, she was able to straighten her doubled-over body and leaned weakly against the metal door. Her entire body was spent. She was drenched in a cold sweat and trembling uncontrollably. Her mouth tasted foul and she was gasping for breath.

She closed her eyes and unbidden images sprang into her mind. She saw their black heads looming over her, their crazed eyes peering into hers, their open mouths flecked with foam, their lips curled back in a snarl, and their teeth, those god-awful teeth, so brilliantly white in the sunlight were dripping with blood. Her blood!

 She sobbed twice before her hand flew up to cover her mouth, muffling the sound. She forced her eyes open and willed herself to concentrate on something, anything other than what she was reliving in her mind. She looked blankly ahead and stared at the wall behind the toilet. There was nothing else to look at. She blinked rapidly and tried to center all her attention on the wall.

 It was painted glossy beige. Must make it easier to clean, she thought dully, the painful images threatening to break through once again. She fought for control; she couldn’t let her mind wander back to the terror. Think about the wall, she commanded herself. Focus on the frigging wall!

With a monumental effort, she did. The wall was made of blocks, concrete blocks. She knew that people still called them cinder blocks, but they weren’t. Cinder blocks hadn’t been made in a very long time. Why this information was being dredged to the forefront of her brain at that precise moment was a mystery and yet she was thankful; it was keeping the horror at bay.

Regardless of what they were called, there were a lot of them. Her eyes moved restlessly over the wall. Then, her body jerked in response as she suddenly realized the answer to her dilemma was right in front of her. The distraction she so desperately needed to push away the memories was staring her in the face.  She could count the goddamn blocks! She grabbed onto the idea as if it were a lifeline. Her eyes immediately traveled upward toward the ceiling and she started to count, starting at the left-hand corner, one…two…three…With painstaking slowness, she silently mouthed the numerical progression while her eyes tracked her journey back and forth across the wall, immersing her mind in the steady mathematical trek.

After what seemed like an interminable length of time, she was able to bring her body back under control. Her breathing returned to normal and she stopped shaking. Her skin dried, although her blond hair still clung damply to her forehead. The muscles in her midsection and throat loosened and relaxed. After another minute or two she felt a little stronger and was able to stand upright away from the door, her gaze dropping away from the wall. She stood there placidly, not moving for a moment, and then grabbed some toilet paper and wiped her mouth. Discarding the used paper into the toilet, she got s