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  They are the perfect family.

  But perfection is fragile.

  Cal Hudson knows the world can be an ugly place. As a reporter for a big Chicago newspaper, Cal has journeyed into society’s darkest corners to expose the vilest crimes. But the world he and his devoted wife, Faith, share with their son is much nicer. They have made sure of it, creating a tranquil haven in suburban River Ridge to protect the person most precious to them.

  Until the unthinkable happens, and nine-year-old Gage vanishes.

  In a split second at a local carnival, the Hudson’s storybook world begins unraveling. A frantic search starts to uncover splinters in their carefully crafted facade, revealing buried secrets that cast just as much suspicion on Cal and Faith as any ill-meaning stranger, and proving that the line between love and violence can disappear as suddenly as a child on a chaotic midway.

  Praise for the novels of Rick Mofina

  “Rick Mofina’s books are edge-of-your seat thrilling. Page turners that don’t let up.”

  —Louise Penny, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Six Seconds should be Rick Mofina’s breakout thriller. It moves like a tornado.”

  —James Patterson, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Six Seconds is a great read. Echoing Ludlum and Forsythe, author Mofina has penned a big, solid international thriller that grabs your gut—and your heart—in the opening scenes and never lets go.”

  —Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author

  “The Panic Zone is a headlong rush toward Armageddon. Its brisk pace and tight focus remind me of early Michael Crichton.”

  —Dean Koontz, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Rick Mofina’s tense, taut writing makes every thriller he writes an adrenaline-packed ride.”

  —Tess Gerritsen, New York Times bestselling author

  “Mofina’s clipped prose reads like short bursts of gunfire.”

  —Publishers Weekly on No Way Back

  “Mofina is one of the best thriller writers in the business.”

  —Library Journal (starred review) on They Disappeared

  “Vengeance Road is a thriller with no speed limit! It’s a great read!”

  —Michael Connelly, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  Also by Rick Mofina and MIRA Books

  FREE FALL

  FULL TILT

  EVERY SECOND

  WHIRLWIND

  INTO THE DARK

  THEY DISAPPEARED

  THE BURNING EDGE

  IN DESPERATION

  THE PANIC ZONE

  VENGEANCE ROAD

  SIX SECONDS

  Other books by Rick Mofina

  A PERFECT GRAVE

  EVERY FEAR

  THE DYING HOUR

  BE MINE

  NO WAY BACK

  BLOOD OF OTHERS

  COLD FEAR

  IF ANGELS FALL

  BEFORE SUNRISE

  THE ONLY HUMAN

  For more information, please visit www.rickmofina.com.

  RICK

  MOFINA

  Last Seen

  This book is for my hero, my father

  Contents

  Epigraph

  The First Day

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  The Second Day

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  The Third Day

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  The Fourth Day

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  The Fifth Day

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments & Author’s Note

  Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind...

  —William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part III, act 5, scene 6

  The First Day

  1

  River Ridge, Illinois

  “You’re doomed!” the fat man on the stool said.

  He was missing two lower front teeth. Peppered stubble whorled on his cheeks; vines of long hair framed his face. His eyes locked on Gage as he extended his hand, raising his voice over the chaos of the midway.

  “Give me your ticket, kid.”

  Smiling, Gage placed his ticket in the man’s red-stained palm, then raised his voice. “Hey, is that real blood?”

  “You tell me, kid. Look where fate has brought you.” The fat man cast his tattooed arm back to the huge arching sign bearing blood-dripping words that proclaimed the attraction.

  The Chambers of Dread: America’s Biggest Traveling World of Horrors!

  “This is so cool!” Gage said.

  “Cool? How old is your young soul?”

  “What?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Nine!”

  The man’s eyes narrowed into reptilian slits as he assessed Gage, then his dad, then his mom. They stayed on Mom long enough to border on being unsavory before coming back to Gage. Then the man knocked on the wooden advisory bolted to the metal barricade next to him.

  Warning! This attraction may be too intense for pregnant women and people with heart conditions. It is not recommended for children under the age of 12 unless they are accompanied by an adult.

  A fat finger, tipped with a long, yellowed and chipped fingernail, pointed at Gage.
“Mark my words, kid. These Chambers is cursed. No one who enters is ever the same when, and if, they leave. Now’s the time to run home with your mama. Otherwise, move ahead. Next! You, there! You’re doomed!”

  “Whoa!” Gage’s laugh betrayed excited nervousness as he and his parents inched forward in the crowded line that snaked between barricades to the entrance. The aroma of deep-fried food, grilled meat and cotton candy wafted from the food stands. He felt his mother’s hands on his shoulders before she leaned into his ear.

  “You’re sure you’re okay to do this, sweetie? You’re not too scared?”

  “Mom, I’m not scared!”

  “We could skip this and get something to eat over there.”

  “He’s fine, Faith. You’re always babying him,” Gage’s dad said, while checking messages on his phone and texting responses.

  Always working, Faith Hudson thought, irritated. It was as if his phone was part of his anatomy. Now he was dialing.

  “Seriously, you’re calling someone?”

  Phone pressed to his ear, Cal flashed his free palm to Faith, signaling her to quiet down. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating, then said what she was thinking. “And I was going to thank you for making time for us today.”

  Cal never heard her, focused on his call. “Yeah, it’s Hudson,” he said into the receiver. “You gotta tell Stu the number’s wrong in the story—it’s fifty thousand, not five... Right. Good. Bye.”

  He turned to his wife. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  Cal looked at her for a long moment while across from them the Polar Rocket erupted with a diesel roar, frenzied squeals and Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song. After absorbing everything that Faith’s silence screamed at him, Cal leaned into her ear.

  “I had to make that call—it was important.”

  “They’re always important calls.”

  “I had to correct an editing error. What were you trying to tell me?”

  She stared at him. “I was going to thank you for making time to be with us, but you’re not with us. You’re working.”

  “Cripes. I’m here, Faith.”

  “Are you?”

  “Please, don’t start.”

  “No, no, I’m not.” Faith glimpsed the family behind them, the mother and father awkwardly pretending not to be watching them. Immediately Faith rubbed Cal’s shoulder lovingly and smiled for all to see. “Everything’s fine. Really.”

  Sure, everything’s perfect, Calvin Hudson told himself, turning from Faith and scanning the top of the Mega-Roller Ferris wheel. She’d never truly understood his work, he thought. He was a journalist; it was in his DNA. The demands were 24/7. She never really grasped how deeply involved he was with his stories. He couldn’t just switch it off, like she insisted; or like she could at the PR firm. Now there were rumors of layoffs at his paper, the Chicago Star-News, making him uneasy. He had to work that much harder to prove he was still valuable to his editors. Jobs in the business were scarce. But the way Faith had said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get by on my salary and you’ll find something else,” had wounded him. How could she be so dismissive, as if his position in life didn’t matter, as if she wanted him to lose his job. She had no clue how much he’d given to it—his blood, sweat and tears along with much of his soul. She had no idea the things he’d done.

  And if Cal’s uncertainty about his job at the paper wasn’t bad enough, the situation at home was worse. He and Faith were no longer as intimate as they used to be. She had grown colder over the past few years. Their lovemaking was infrequent. Her displays of affection—spontaneous handholding, touching or even kissing, which used to be common—were now rare.

  She’d become more impatient, more demanding. And the way she babied Gage... “Is your pizza too hot for you? Want me to cut it for you? Maybe that movie’s too scary for you?” The boy was nine. And he clearly hated when his mother treated him this way. It was no wonder Gage lived for any free time with his dad—with Faith, it was as if he was drowning and desperate to come up for air.

  But no one knew that Cal and Faith were grappling with these problems—not their relatives, not their friends. “We don’t need everyone to know our business,” Faith had decreed.

  In keeping with a job as a public relations manager, appearances were important to Faith.

  Given her personality and her professional skills, she was good at hiding the truth when it counted. Maybe that’s why buried in a corner of Cal’s heart was the fear that Faith would take Gage and leave. Cal would never see it coming.

  He forced himself to shift away from all these thoughts and stay positive. He found comfort in the line he had on a potential reporting job overseas. The chances that he’d get it were slim, but if he did it would mean a big change in their lives.

  Still, no matter what he and Faith felt, Gage came first.

  Cal looked at his son, thinking that he must sense his parents were having problems.

  Like powerful telescopes scouring space for signs of life, kids like Gage could pick up infinitesimal traces of parental discord. They’d internalize it without voicing a word, while alone at night in their beds they’d hope and pray that everything between Mom and Dad would be okay.

  Looking at Gage in his beloved Cubs cap and T-shirt, the one with the faded mustard stain, his khaki shorts and sneakers, Cal felt a surge of love for his son. He would do anything for him.

  No matter what problems Cal and Faith had, they needed to show Gage that they were still a family intact; that’s why they were here at the River Ridge Summer Carnival. Every year the big traveling midway of games and thrill rides visited their suburb on Chicago’s West Side for ten days. Gage had ached to come, specifically to respond to the double dares from his friends about going through the Chambers of Dread.

  “Marshall and Colton said they were going to get their parents to come to the fair today, too. I hope so because if I see them I’m gonna tell them, ‘In your face, dudes! I conquered the Chambers of Dread!’”

  Cal mussed Gage’s hair, smiling and thinking that maybe this fear, the kind that was manufactured and sold, would take their minds off the real things they feared in their lives. Maybe for a short time they could pretend to be a happy family.

  Cal glanced back at the fat man on the stool, saw him raise a walkie-talkie and say something into it.

  The Hudsons were next in line.

  As they entered the Chambers of Dread through the yawning jaws of the Demon King, the carnival barker’s warning of doom echoed.

  Cal and Faith exchanged measured looks before they and Gage stepped into the darkness.

  2

  Thick waist-high fog enveloped the Hudsons in the dim light; wisps of it curled around Gage’s chest as they began their journey through the Chambers of Dread. Screams from the unseen visitors mingled with moaning in the darkness ahead of them. They moved toward ominous rumbling, coming to a passageway formed by a large, tunnellike drum, continually spinning, inviting visitors to step through the Portal to the Grim World Beyond, according to the twisted neon sign above it.

  Keeping their balance while walking through the portal with a few other people, the Hudsons found a deeper darkness on the other side and began moving slowly through a maze when a large, cloaked figure emerged in front of them.

  “Oh my God!” Faith gasped as the figure raised a severed human head before them, then vanished.

  “It’s not real, Mom!” Gage laughed.

  “I know, sweetie. It just startled me. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, this is so dope!”

  But the underlying nervousness in Gage’s voice worried Faith, making her wonder if he’d be okay. Especially with what seemed to be up ahead.

  Agonizing pleas beckoned them to the Dungeons of Dread and a darkened narrow walkway that reeked of rotten eggs and had water tricklin
g down its jagged stone walls.

  “Oh, no, let go! No!” a teenager ahead of them shrieked.

  Something scratched at Faith’s ankles. Then it gripped them before she kicked free. Looking to her feet she saw clawlike hands reaching out from barred windows where the condemned, confined in a subterranean prison, grabbed desperately at them, calling, “Save us! Don’t leave us!”

  Hurrying through the dungeons, the Hudsons came to another dark twisting connection echoing with wails, growing louder as they got closer to the next chamber.

  There, the entire scene glowed in flickering orange, yellow and red as flames licked from a massive mound of wood and bramble. A large post protruded from the center. Bound to it, a woman wrapped in a white nightshirt, her head shorn, face glistening, her eyes inflamed, screeched, “So you think burning me, the witch queen, will be my end! Fools! I curse you all! I’ll torment you from hell!”

  The temperature soared, giving the scene a heightened degree of authenticity. Faith saw one man point out for his wife how the flames were controlled from a gas line, that the wood pile was a prop, like the gas fireplace in an expensive home.

  “Did you hear me?” the witch queen screamed. “You’re all cursed! Forever!”

  Faith found kinship with the witch queen.

  Her writhing against her bindings echoed how Faith felt, bound to her heartache. Cal had grown distant over the last couple years and she didn’t know why. After one of his big stories he’d grow pensive. Faith didn’t know what was happening with him. Whenever she tried to talk about it, he’d shut her down. He’d become absorbed in his work and was never home. She was always alone, making her feel that he preferred the long hours of working with cops, criminals and street-smart, pretty female reporters to being with her.

  Had he fallen out of love with her? Once, she’d overheard him on a call joking to someone that journalists were truth seekers and PR people were professional liars. Did he feel that way about her? Most of her work was for big nonprofit groups and charities, and that was the only time she’d heard him talk that way, so she let it go.

  Or tried to.

  Faith needed to hold things together for Gage’s sake. But it wasn’t easy. She knew Gage idolized his father and lived for any free moment Cal spared for him. But it only happened when it was convenient for Cal. How many times had he canceled at the last minute on promised father-son days to see a movie, or the Cubs, or check out video games because he had to work late?