Everly also hoped that the two officers were safe.
Uncle Mike was humorous and witty—so much so that even the usually stern and unsmiling Old John would crack a smile at his antics. Officer Sharon was young, attentive, and good at taking care of people; she even made delicious baby food for Everly. She liked both of them quite a lot.
Yet, things did not go as hoped.
At 7 p.m. that evening, Old John was teaching Everly two words. Just as he was about to coax the energetic little baby to sleep, he suddenly received a phone call.
The caller was Old John’s contact at the state police, a man named David. As soon as the call connected, David anxiously delivered bad news:
“John… it’s exactly as you feared! No one at the bureau has been able to reach Mike or Sharon either. Using technical tracking, we located their phones and found that they weren’t anywhere near Highway 34! Agents from the Saint Mona City Police tracked the signals and found their phones and vehicle behind a hillside along the eastern section of Highway 466. There are signs of a struggle inside the car, and some blood samples were collected—they’re currently analyzing the source…”
Old John quickly asked David to clarify, “What about the car itself? Are there any signs of external damage?”
“Hold on, let me check…”
Everly leaned in to eavesdrop and heard the faint rustling of pages over the phone. After a half-minute pause, David’s voice came again:
“No, the vehicle is intact. But the interior shows signs of being ransacked. Some documents and valuables stored in compartments and the trunk were taken. Sharon’s phone was hidden in a seat crevice, which is why it survived unscathed.”
“That strongly suggests the attacker most likely launched the assault from inside the vehicle itself,” Old John said immediately. “Mike and Sharon were in a police car. Normally, no one would dare brazenly attack officers like that—even the Black Gang wouldn’t. They’d want to distance themselves as much as possible from any assault on police. Considering the purpose of Mike and Sharon’s trip, I strongly suspect that the person who attacked them is the same kidnapper responsible for the string of missing women.”
“The kidnapper? But wasn’t he supposed to be operating along Highway 34?”
“No. Someone told me that the kidnapper has recently moved his operations to the eastern section of Highway 466. Mike and Sharon left my place at eight in the morning. The road conditions on Highway 466 aren’t good. By around noon, they would have reached near Old Jones’s motel—the only rest stop along that stretch. They probably got out there to have lunch.”
“They weren’t aware that the suspect had moved. While eating, they may have casually discussed the case and inadvertently attracted the culprit’s attention. The kidnapper found them, lied to gain their trust, got into the police car, and then attacked them unexpectedly along the way, taking valuables from the vehicle…” Old John followed the clues and rapidly pieced the scenario together.
“Why the motel? I mean, there are other ways to get into a police car, right? Like pretending to be injured on the roadside to flag them down or something.”
Old John didn’t answer directly. Instead, he asked David, “Would you ever suddenly stop a police car for no reason and then attack the officers inside?”
“No… unless I were insane,” David replied.
“So the reason the culprit targeted them is very likely unavoidable—they were investigating a case connected to him. To get that information, the culprit and the two officers must have crossed paths somewhere. On the eastern section of Highway 466, the most likely place is the motel… Send someone there to investigate. Ask the waitstaff in the restaurant if they saw anyone suspicious talking to Mike and the others around lunchtime…”
“Understood! I’ll get in touch with the Saint Mona City Police right away!”
After hanging up, Old John pressed a hand to his forehead, deep furrows cutting into his brow.
At a time like this, Everly didn’t want to trouble him, so she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.
Once Old John left, she opened her eyes, grabbed the crocodile plush beside her, and started kneading it nervously in her hands—she remembered!
Just now, while eavesdropping on Old John’s call with David, that familiar feeling she had experienced several times before returned. But this time, her mind responded strongly, and a series of images flashed through her mind like a slideshow.
A massive refrigerated truck speeding through the night. Several bodies, gutted and hung like livestock inside the cargo area. And a blonde girl shivering from the cold… The girl’s face was strikingly beautiful. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the same Lina she had seen earlier that day.
Wait… where were these images coming from? Could it be that her precognitive ability had activated again?
The thought made Everly’s heart leap with excitement.
Everly hadn’t had another precognitive dream since leaving the underground stone chamber. Over time, the influence of the banshee’s milk on her was waning, or perhaps the banshee had fallen into a deep sleep, suppressing the ability she had gained. In any case, since then, Everly’s experiences were limited to occasional gut feelings, like at the airport, sensing danger before it arrived—she hadn’t seen any clear images.
If her precognitive ability had really strengthened, what could be the cause? Could it be that the banshee mother had awakened?
Thinking this, Everly quickly pulled the eyeball she had hidden in the crocodile pouch and examined it in the moonlight. To her disappointment, it looked the same as before—dull, like a ruby whose color was slightly off.
She didn’t lose heart. As long as the eyeball existed, the banshee couldn’t truly die. There would be a day when she would awaken. By then… Everly shook her head, forcing herself to put the thought aside.
There was something more important right now—something only she could do.
With that in mind, Everly held onto the railing of her crib and stood up.
Her crib was placed by the window, about half an arm’s length away from the glass. From this vantage point, she could clearly see the two roads intersecting outside.
The night was deep. The gas station lights had long since gone out, and there were no streetlights on the roads. The world outside was pitch-black, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon above.
Everly was waiting for a car.
Just as everything about the string of kidnappings felt familiar to her, Everly had an inexplicable premonition: tonight, the refrigerated truck she had seen in her mind would appear.
So, despite her sleepiness, Everly forced herself to stay alert, standing completely still on the crib like a statue. One minute… two minutes… she lost track of time. Just as her heavy eyelids threatened to shut from drowsiness, a faint roar of an engine caught her attention.
Everly shook her head and followed the sound. In the distance, she saw a large, familiar truck appearing at the far end of the road.
Thanks to the banshee mother’s milk, Everly’s eyesight was excellent. Even though the truck had no headlights on, she could easily recognize it—it was the same refrigerated truck she had seen in her “vision”!
It was like a roaring shadow in the night, speeding along Highway 466, drawing closer and closer…
As it neared, Everly yanked open her mouth and let out a heart-piercing wail.
The baby’s cry roused the sleeping Old John. Forgetting even to put on his shoes, he bolted into Everly’s room. There, he saw the little girl, who should have been asleep, standing on the crib railing, pointing toward the window, her round face marked with urgency.
“Ka-ka… ka!”
Everly babbled in baby talk.
At first, Old John didn’t understand. Worried she might fall, he hurried over, scooped her up, and was about to lay her back in the crib to calm her when his eyes inadvertently shifted—and there, just below, he saw the refrigerated truck making the turn at the intersection.
The vehicle came from the east side of Highway 466. After reaching the intersection, it made a 90-degree turn onto Highway 387, heading south along the road.
—Something’s not right!
As a former detective, Old John immediately sensed that something was wrong.
The southern end of SR-387 was the town of Lemot, about ten kilometers from here. It was a small town built on tourism—any traveler wishing to explore the volcanic canyons of the Lemot Great Desert had to pass through it. South of the town lay the vast, uninhabited desert. Therefore, if the refrigerated truck was heading south, its only possible destination was Lemot.
Old John positioned himself along the only route leading to Lemot. Living here, he knew very well that trucks delivering frozen goods to the town came only once every two weeks—and today wasn’t even a scheduled delivery day.
Moreover, even if the truck were making a delivery, it shouldn’t have come from the east via Highway 466. The north end of Highway 387 connected to the city of Micano, the supply hub for eastern Dwight State. All the supermarkets there received their shipments from Micano.
A refrigerated truck arriving at night, with no headlights on, and with a cargo compartment… the list of suspicious details kept growing. Then he remembered Pete, the bald guy he’d passed by the gas station during the day, and his daughter Lina, who worked as a kitchen assistant at Old Jones’s motel…
Piecing all the clues together, a sudden, ominous premonition filled Old John’s mind.
For the moment, he couldn’t worry about calming his little granddaughter. Squinting, he quickly memorized the license plate of the refrigerated truck, then pulled out his phone and called David, asking him to help check the truck’s movements over the past three months.
“I strongly suspect that the driver of this vehicle is connected to the string of kidnappings. Once you find out anything, make sure to call me immediately,” he instructed David.
After hanging up, Old John tried every possible way to get in touch with Pete. They were merely acquaintances—enough to exchange a few words when they met, but not close enough to have each other’s contact info. He flipped through his phone contacts, calling several local residents who might have Pete’s number.
Lemot was a remote town with few entertainment options, so the townspeople tended to go to bed early. Most of his calls went unanswered, or the person answering didn’t know Pete well. Finally, when he called the owner of the local pharmacy, Old John got what he needed.
Thank goodness, Pete wasn’t asleep yet. But he didn’t seem too concerned about Old John’s warning.
“Lemot’s a safe town. Why would I keep Lina locked up? I only brought her back because she was sulking at me. I don’t want to annoy her…”
Old John had no choice but to tell him that he had just seen a person suspected of being the “kidnapper,” driving a refrigerated truck toward Lemot.
“What? Are you sure? How do you know it’s the kidnapper?”
“I heard it from the two officers passing by the gas station. You know, from the state police headquarters to Saint Mona, my gas station is on the only route,” Old John bluffed casually.
His story had obvious holes, but Pete believed him. Grabbing his phone, he ran anxiously to his daughter’s bedroom. He knocked repeatedly with no answer, then unlocked the door and pushed it open—only to find the room empty. There was no sign of his daughter!
“Lina! Damn it, she’s gone… She met a truck driver at the motel, and they’ve been flirting. I tried to convince her to come back, but she wouldn’t listen. We had a huge argument, and now she probably just went out to clear her head…” Pete rambled anxiously, his words spilling out without pause.
Old John, hearing him go on and on without getting to the point, quickly interjected: “Think about the timing. The refrigerated truck must have just arrived. Go outside and look for Lina—if you’re lucky, you might still catch her.”
“You’re right! Thank you so much, old friend. I’ll hang up for now, and I’ll contact you once I have news…”
Pete ended the call abruptly and hung up.