AREM Prologue

There was something in the air that night… the darkness felt somehow… sinister. Mitch shuddered, his hand lingering on the key, still in the ignition. He couldn’t place this feeling… but  he almost couldn’t bear the thought of turning that key to shut the car off, leaving him alone in that silence. His family wasn’t far behind, they would be home soon, but just at that moment… something… felt so wrong… 

But another feeling nudged at him, breaking through this strange moment of fear, and he stepped swiftly from the car, not hesitating any longer.

Your phone… answer your phone…

He had to get inside, and fast. 

The house was just as black as the eerie night outside, but he didn’t stop to flick the light switch as he stumbled towards the phone, nearly falling as he tripped over the tennis shoes he had left lying in the hall. He could hear something already, coming over the answering machine. It sounded garbled and distant. Desperate to catch the words, he pushed forward and tripped again, this time over a desk chair. He bit back angry words as he collapsed onto the chair, just barely reaching the phone with the tips of his fingers. He could clearly hear a voice now… a panicked, hysterical voice… and it filled him with terror.

“Mitch… pick up, please… I think something’s wrong! Wait…”

Justine…

She seemed a bit calmer for a moment, and Mitch echoed her sigh of relief. He didn’t know what was wrong, but… Justine gasped suddenly, and her voice reached a feverish pitch… 

“Mitch! They’re trying to run me off the road! I’m on the slopes… please… help me!” 

He fumbled for the phone, getting tangled in the cord… and just as the voice message ended with a beep, the phone fell to the floor with a crash. He went down with it as he leaned too far over the back of the chair and ended in a heap on the floor with a thud that shook the entire house. 

Light flooded the room as the door opened and his mom’s voice echoed through the hallway.

“Mitch? You left your keys on the porch floor… everything okay?”

He didn’t even bother to move from the floor. Somehow managing to untangle the phone, he dialed Justine’s number, his heart pounding so loudly he could scarcely hear himself think. The phone rang… and then went silent. Again he called… nothing.

“Please, God… make her pick up her phone,” he muttered between clenched teeth as he dialed a third time. His mom was kneeling beside him, her eyes filled with concern. Rachel, who had come in on her heels, was picking up the toppled chair. 

“What’s wrong, Mitch?”

“I… I don’t know…” He could barely gasp out his answer as the line went dead again. He dreaded listening to that message… but he punched a few buttons and again Justine’s terror-stricken voice crackled into life.

“Mitch, Mitch, are you there? I’m on my cellphone and it’s breaking up. Please, pick up! I’m in my car and I think I’m being followed. I talked to Mr. Charles today about that memo and he got really weird about it. I think something’s wrong! Wait… oh… the car is passing me… I guess I’m… Mitch! They’re trying to run me off the road! I’m on the slopes… please… help me…!” 

Rachel was staring at him wide-eyed, and his mother was saying… something… but Mitch couldn’t see or hear anything but Justine’s voice echoing endlessly in his head…

He pounded his fist on the floor in  helpless frustration, angry tears filling his eyes. So God help him, if anything had happened to Justine…