Andrew Klavan - Nightmare City

With that, she turned and walked out of the room.

A few minutes later Tom found her in the Sentinel ’s office.

“You saved my life in there, Leese,” he said with a lopsided smile. “After they heard about USA Today , everyone suddenly got a lot more friendly. I guess they didn’t want the whole country to find out they were trying to cover up for the team.”

Lisa shrugged but blushed at the same time. “That’s what friends are for, Tommy. I knew you could stand up for yourself, but I figured, I’m the editor, it’s my responsibility to protect the story.”

Weary with relief, Tom dropped into his chair and put his feet up on the mess on his desk. “So when do we talk to USA Today ?” he asked her.

Lisa shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I don’t know. They haven’t asked us yet.”

Tom’s feet dropped off the desk with a thud as he came rocketing upright in his chair. “What?”

“Well, I had to say something, right? They looked like they were about to hang you.”

“So you lied?”

“I didn’t lie. I said when USA Today interviews me, they’ll probably want to interview you, too. I’m sure that’s true.”

“Lisa!”

“Well, let’s call it a bluff,” she said.

Tom fell back against his chair, staring at her with his mouth open. After another moment, he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” said Tom. “Just remind me never to play poker with you!”

Lisa’s cheeks turned so red her freckles all but disappeared. A moment later she was giggling helplessly.

Hurry!” Tom said to her now. “We don’t have much time.”

He took ahold of Lisa’s elbow as she stepped into the house. Before he shut the door behind her, he cast one last look outside, across the front lawn. Sheets and tendrils of mist were coiling up the drive and over the grass, casting a ghostly pall over everything. At the bottom of the driveway, the fog was gathering quickly. As Tom stood staring through the cloudy air, he thought he saw a shadow move in that thicker whiteness. A malevolent. Waiting for the moment when it could reach the house; reach him. Soon.

Tom shut the door.

“Come on,” he said.

He drew Lisa down the hallway to the kitchen. They sat face-to-face at the round table in the nook, just as he’d sat with Marie. Outside, through the windows, a faint mist had begun to gather over the backyard as well. Tom knew it would get thicker quickly. The malevolents were on their way.

Still gripping her elbow, Tom leaned toward Lisa. She had opened her raincoat now. Beneath it, she was wearing the pink blouse he knew was her favorite. The top button was undone, and a gold necklace with a little gold cross shone against the white skin of her throat. Tom could not believe how good it was to see that quirky, freckled, pug-nosed face of hers. He felt certain she would be able to help him find the truth. She always had.

“I was shot, wasn’t I?” he asked her. “That’s why I’m here. Someone shot me in the chest.”

Lisa nodded quickly. She wasn’t smiling anymore. She looked serious, pale, worried. “That’s right.”

“Who was it? Who did it, Leese?”

“I don’t know. No one knows. The police are still trying to find out.”

“But it must’ve been someone who was angry at me about our story, right? Someone who was angry because of what I wrote about the Tigers.”

“Probably. That’s what everyone thinks, anyway.”

“I should know who it is!” he said. “But I don’t remember.”

“Well, you’re hurt.”

“Right. I’m in a coma, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I’m lying unconscious in the hospital, and the doctors can’t wake me up.”

Lisa frowned, her eyes growing damp. “Yes, that’s right. It’s awful. We’re all so frightened.”

Tom tried to take this in, to think it through. He was still holding loosely on to Lisa’s arm. Lisa moved her hand to his. Her cool touch was comforting.

“And so all this,” he said, gesturing at the kitchen. “All this is happening in my mind, in my imagination.”

Lisa tilted her head, her expression uncertain. “Well… yes… but…”

“But what?” said Tom. He could feel the time passing, could feel the fog moving in. He knew that every second counted. “Tell me. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Well… just because something is in your imagination doesn’t mean it’s imaginary.”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Your imagination isn’t just some kind of fantasyland or something. It’s a way of seeing things that your rational mind can’t see or doesn’t want to see. It’s a way of knowing things you can’t know any other way. The things you see with your imagination may not look like the things you see in ordinary life, but they’re just as real in their own way. And all this—everything that’s happening here, Tom— it’s all real. And it’s serious. It’s like… It’s like your imagination is the battleground on which you’re fighting for your life.”

“Right,” said Tom, trying to stay with her, trying to understand. “The fog, the monsters, the malevolents…”

“They can kill you—really kill you. They already have killed you. Twice! Your heart has already stopped beating two times.”

Tom nodded. “Yes. I know. I died. I even saw heaven, I think.”

“Well,” said Lisa, looking uncertain again, “I don’t think it could have been heaven. Not exactly. Not the real heaven. This is your imagination, remember—and I think heaven is probably beyond anything you could imagine.”

“But if I died, maybe I saw it for a second…,” Tom started to say. His voice trailed away as he remembered the things he had seen in the park, the strangely unhappy-looking people.

“Maybe,” said Lisa. “It’s possible.” She smiled. “But, like I said, I don’t think so. The road to heaven isn’t death, Tom. It’s life.”

Tom went on thinking about it. He went on thinking about the beautiful parkland with the Greek temples and about the people he’d seen there—the people who weren’t serene and happy the way you’d think they would be if they were in paradise.

“There was a guy there,” he murmured. “A thin guy with long blond hair. I think he’s in the hospital with me. I think he’s the guy lying unconscious in the bed next to mine.”

“Yeah,” said Lisa. “The doctor said he was some kind of drug addict, hooked on meth or something. He couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to slash his wrists, to kill himself. They don’t know whether he’s going to make it.”

Tom thought about the long-haired guy standing in front of the temple, how he looked lost, like he was trying to find someone who could give him directions. So Lisa was right. The parkland wasn’t heaven. Even though Tom’s heart had stopped, the place he had seen was still some part of his living mind. If he really died, then there would be something else, something more. Something, as Lisa said, beyond his imagination.

Tom glanced away from the anxious expression on Lisa’s face. He glanced out the window into the backyard. Already the mist was noticeably thicker out there. He could see it wafting in, blowing in, more and more of it every second. Soon it would be thick enough to bring the malevolents. Very soon.

He faced Lisa again. “What about you?” he said. “Are you real?”

“You know I am, Tommy.”

He smiled, in spite of his worry and fear. Tommy . Lisa was the only one who ever called him that. And she only did it when she was emotional, when she forgot to control herself and call him Tom like everyone else did. “But I mean… are you really here now?” he asked her. “Really here with me?”