Silent Fall

Dylan, I know you don’t believe in things you can’t see, but how can I not when I see things other people are experiencing? When I feel emotions that aren’t mine, when I know what’s going to happen before it happens?"
    Dylan shook his head. "I can’t explain you -- or much of anything these days. Maybe it’s all a cosmic joke. But I think the universe has some very human helpers, and those are the people I intend to find."
    He had barely finished speaking when his cell phone rang. He picked it up from the console, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the number. "Shit!"
    "Who is it?"
    "Someone is calling me from my apartment, and the only person in the world besides myself who has a key to my place is Jake, and he’s in Hawaii. I hope he didn’t hear about this mess I’m in and come home. But why would he go to my house?"
    Realizing he’d find out more if he just answered the phone, Dylan punched a button and said, "Hello?"
    There was a long silence, but he could hear someone’s quick, short breaths on the other end of the line. "Who is this, and what the hell are you doing in my apartment?"
    "It’s me," a woman said.
    His heart turned over at the familiar voice. "Erica?" he breathed. "What’s going on? What are you trying to do to me?"
    "I made a horrible mistake, Dylan. Someone is trying to kill me."
    "You made it look like I was trying to kill you."
    "I had to. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice."
    "Why are you doing this, Erica? Is it Ravino? Does he have some hold over you?"
    She didn’t answer.
    "Erica, talk to me. Whatever trouble you’re in, I can help you fix it."
    "Oh, God, I have to go," she said, dropping her voice to a hush. "I think someone is coming. I didn’t think he’d find me here."
    "Who? Erica, dammit, tell me who."
    But it was too late. She’d hung up the phone. He couldn’t believe he’d lost her again.
    "Erica is at your house?" Catherine asked in surprise.
    "Yes. She said someone was coming. And then she hung up. She said she was sorry. But she wouldn’t say why she was doing it. Fuck!" He hit the redial over and over again, but Erica didn’t answer.
    "At least we know she’s still alive," Catherine offered. "That’s something."
    "For now," he said grimly. "She said someone was trying to kill her, and that he’d found her again."

Chapter Seven

    Catherine began to feel uneasy the closer they got to San Francisco. By the time Dylan drove through the tollbooth at the Bay Bridge just before five o’clock that afternoon, every nerve in her body was on edge. The bay seemed to reflect her mood, the dark blue waves shimmering with whitecaps, the result of a strong wind and a bank of cool gray fog sliding in over the far end of the city.
    She’d never been to San Francisco, so she didn’t know why she had the sense of homecoming. She’d seen photographs of Alcatraz, the island prison in the middle of the bay, as well as pictures of the city, with its downtown skyscrapers, steep hills, and famous cable cars. But that didn’t explain the conviction that she’d seen these sights before and that she’d driven across this bridge, heading into the city.
    Her mental turmoil grew more chaotic with each passing mile. She gripped the armrest, feeling a desperate need to steady herself. But she couldn’t find her center. Dizziness assailed her, and images began to flash through her mind. Her body went from hot to cold. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to get rid of the sense that she was in terrible danger, but she couldn’t stop the terror ripping through her.
    "You’re shaking. What’s wrong?" Dylan asked.
    His voice barely registered over the sound of rushing water in her head.
    "Catherine," he said in a demanding tone. "What the hell is going on with you?"
    "Something bad is happening." It was the same feeling she’d had in the woods, the sense that she was being chased, that she needed to run faster or she wouldn’t be able to get away."
    "Try to think of something else," Dylan ordered.
    "I... I can’t," she said, her teeth rattling with cold chills.
    "Tell me about your art class. Are you still teaching?"
    She knew he was trying to change the subject, but the mention of art only drew vivid slashes of color through her mind. She saw black and red again, then a streak of blue, a flash of gold. She felt