Into The Fog

By Michelle Godard-Richer

Ice fog descends upon Dickens, Alberta, growing thicker and thicker until Heidi Crawford can no longer see the coniferous forest and snow-capped mountains outside the windows of her Jeep. A huge four-legged shape moves in the mist. She slams on the brakes and squeezes her eyes shut.

When Heidi opens her eyes, the fog is gone, but so is her life as she knows it. Instead of forest and snow, she’s on a single street in a tiny town, trapped in a scorching hot desert away from her daughter Emma. And she isn’t alone. Fifteen strangers are trapped in Ghost Town and soon, they begin disappearing, one by one.

Michelle Godard-Richer's INTO THE FOG is an unputdownable, chilling isolation thriller about a single mother separated from her daughter and trapped with fourteen strangers — one of whom is a killer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Sep 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798890082329

Book preview

Prologue

Beneath a blanket of stars and a full moon, Heidi Crawford sat in a lounge chair in front of a roaring campfire. Despite the warmth emanating from the tall flames, she had a black and red plaid blanket covering her lap against the chill in the late summer air.

Under the cover of night, the black mountains on the horizon gave off a sense of foreboding, stirring creative ideas of betrayal and murder for her next book. She’d signed her first book deal a week ago—a dream come true. And the natural high and excitement fueled new ideas. If luck was on her side, and her book sold well, she’d be able to quit her admin job at the local jail.

Her boyfriend Brent’s idea of celebrating was to find a secluded spot in the forest and pitch a tent. He kneeled in front of the fire and poked it with a stick. Isn’t this nice? His dark hair was getting long enough to show his natural, unruly waves. She found it sexy, but he hated wrestling the waves into place. Guaranteed he’d get it cut soon.

Yes. Thank you for planning this.

The fire crackled and embers lit the air around them. A spark landed on her lap and made a tiny hole in her new blanket, and she frowned. Camping was more his thing, but she appreciated the effort.

Before trekking into the woods, he’d taken her to dinner at a fancy steakhouse. She didn’t have much appetite lately, but it was a sweet gesture. How would he react to the news once she told him? What do you think of a murder mystery about a couple camping in the woods? Maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend has been secretly stalking them and decides to kill the guy and kidnap the woman. I’d have to come up with an astute detective to piece it all together.

He chuckled. Great creepy campfire story. You don’t have any crazy exes, do you?

I hope not. But I guess you never know.

He settled into the chair beside her and held her hand. It sounds like a winning story idea. I hope your writing turns into a career. I hate the idea of you working with criminals. Why don’t you just quit your job? Your parents love having you at home.

Because I don’t only have me to think about.

What do you mean? My construction business is starting to take off. You don’t have to worry about me.

She took a deep breath and blurted out the secret she’d kept for the past few weeks. I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.

Oh, wow! His eyes grew wide, but a smile rested on his lips. I always thought we’d be married first.

I know. Me too.

He scooted his chair closer to hers and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. We can remedy that. I’m sure we can throw together a small shotgun wedding.

She gazed into his green eyes. So, you’re happy about this? I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.

Of course, I’m happy. I love you, Precious.

Chapter One

Thirteen years later

Heidi hummed along to an upbeat country song on the radio as she parked along the curb in front of Dickens Middle School. She turned to face her whole world, her sweet twelve-year-old daughter. Have a good day, Emma. See you after school.

Rather than open the door, Emma lingered with furrowed brows. Do I really have to go to school today, Mom?

Heidi sighed and turned down the volume. The first two and a half months of school had passed without incident, giving her hope Emma would make it through the seventh grade without being bullied. Her daughter made good grades and was kind to others, but her lack of self-esteem made her an easy target.

The temptation to cave and let Emma stay home gnawed at her, but she couldn’t let Emma hide from her problems. What happened, sweetie?

Candace and Tiff are at it again. Making fun of my clothes, poking me during class with their pens, knocking books off my desk. You know, the usual.

I thought things had gotten better since last year.

There’s this new girl, Sadie Myers. She just moved to town in August. So obviously they went after her first. Fresh blood and all, right?

Of course. That’s what bullies do. Let me guess. You’ve made friends with Sadie, so now they’re picking on both of you.

How’d you know?

You’re a sweet, kindhearted girl. It’s what you always do. I’m proud of you, Emma. I know it’s hard, but you can’t let those girls get to you. Ignore them. Pretend they don’t exist. If they don’t get a rise out of you, they’ll give up.

Emma picked at a loose string on her mitten. Easy for you to say.

Do you want me to talk to the principal or your teacher? Talking to those girls’ parents over the summer clearly didn’t help.

Emma straightened and her eyes widened. "Omigod! You talked to their parents? Please, don’t talk to the teacher. You’ll only make it worse."

Emailing Emma’s teacher to find a discreet way to deal with the situation moved to the top of Heidi’s to-do list. Okay, but staying home isn’t the answer either. What will Sadie do without you?

Emma gazed down at her UGG booties, her auburn, unruly curls falling around her face. I know.

Heidi reached across the seat, looped a curly lock around her daughter’s ear, and touched her cheek. Tell you what. We’ll go on a shopping trip to the city this weekend and get you some new clothes.

Emma perked up. Really? Can we afford it?

I just got my royalty payment from my publisher. Besides, money is for me to juggle. You just worry about keeping up your good grades.

Thanks, Mom. Can Sadie and her mom come?

Sure, invite them. I’d love to meet your new friend and her mother.

Emma opened the door, and a blast of cold air blew inside the Jeep. With one foot outside, she glanced over her shoulder. You’re the best. I love you, Mom.

I love you, too.

Heidi’s heart clenched as her little girl walked into school looking down at her feet the whole way, making her slight frame appear even smaller.

What is it going to take to get my baby to keep her head up?

A horn blasted behind her. Heidi jumped and banged her head on the roof of the Jeep.

Ouch.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at the car behind her and rolled her eyes. Of course, the horn honker would be Candace’s father, Vaughn Crowley, the former star captain of the high school hockey team. He still seemed to think of himself as the king of their small town.

She grasped the door handle and debated getting out and giving him a piece of her mind, but it would only make things worse for Emma. Shaking her head, she clutched the steering wheel, and resisted the urge to flip him the bird as she drove off.

Heidi had planned to grab a few things at the general store on Main Street, but that could wait. Home, hot coffee, and her computer beckoned so she could send that email to Emma’s teacher. When problems arose, she preferred to face them head-on. Having known Emma’s teacher, Sarah Stoddart, since they were in kindergarten together, Heidi sensed a strong nudge would be needed to effect change. Sarah avoided confrontation and would turn a blind eye to the things Emma described.

A layer of ice fog that had been building on the way to school had grown much thicker during the time she’d spent talking to Emma. The town of Dickens rested in a valley of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta, trapping moisture in dangerous icy pockets of air.

Heidi could no longer make out the snow-capped mountains looming on either side of her, nor the tall coniferous trees covering them. With the Jeep’s fog lights barely piercing the mist, she leaned forward, trying to make out the center line on the range road. A dangerous sheen sparkled on the pavement, but her four-wheel drive was engaged, and the winter tires were on.

Only five more kilometers to go.

Heidi knew this road and all its hills, having lived in Dickens her whole life in the same log home she now occupied with Emma. The largest of the hills on her route lay ahead. The Jeep crested to the top, then began its descent. Heidi held her foot on the brake to maintain her speed. On the side of the road ahead of her, a large four-legged shape moved through the mist.

Heidi slammed the brake pedal to the floor. The Jeep slowed, skidding as her tires scrambled for purchase on the ice. As she skidded, the fog thickened, until all she could see was white. She pumped the brakes but continued to slide. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she clenched the steering wheel.

Please, please stop.

Ramming into a moose or a bighorn sheep, even at a slow speed, could be fatal.

Finally, her momentum slowed, and the Jeep ground to a halt.

The fog swirled, then thinned, lifting from the ground inch by inch until the sky swallowed it up. But instead of revealing the few kilometers of mountainous forest leading to her homestead, Heidi found herself in the middle of a road that dead-ended in both directions. Unfamiliar brown brick buildings lined either side.

Even more bizarre, the sun shone in a cloudless sky and a snowless, brown desert stretched for miles. Cacti as tall as trees surrounded her instead of spruce. She turned off the ignition.

This can’t be real. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Chapter Two

The air inside the Jeep grew warmer by the second. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and her palms moistened in her gloves.

An unfamiliar man around her age stared at her through the driver’s window, then tapped on the glass beside her head. A black apron hung from his neck, over a white tee and jeans.

She rolled down the window. A warm breeze ruffled the loose strands of hair that had escaped her messy bun. Maybe he would know where the heck she’d ended up and the way home.

He leaned on the Jeep and lowered his head to face her. Are you okay?

I’m fine, thanks. A bit lost though, I’m afraid. What is this place?

He pointed to the building behind him. Ghost Town. Come into the diner. I’ll explain. His tone was even and nonchalant, as if strangers wandered into this middle-of-nowhere town on a regular basis.

She shifted her head to gaze around his shoulder as she peeled off her sweaty gloves. A faded wooden sign reading Ghost Diner hung over the door. Wish I could, but I need to be getting home. If you could just point me in the right direction.

Like I said, come inside, and I’ll tell you everything I know.

Okay. Give me a minute. Google maps, I’m counting on you.

Meet me in there. I’ll make a pitcher of iced tea and rustle up some food.

Heidi switched on the air conditioning, then pulled over to the curb. She dug her iPhone out of her purse and touched the maps icon. The screen flashed no connection.

Oh, come on!

She looked at the upper left corner. No bars. Maybe if she walked farther up the road, she’d get reception. The minute she shut off the engine, the air inside the Jeep heated to the point of being unbearable. Heidi climbed out and spun in a circle, trying to get her bearings. The sun beat down on her head.

My God, it’s hot. How could I have ended up somewhere so summery near my house in late fall?

She didn’t remember taking an unexpected turn, but with the fog being so thick, maybe she had. There had to be a logical explanation.

Her temples throbbed. She dug around in her purse for her sunglasses and slid them on her face. No longer able to bear the suffocating warmth, she slipped out of her black parka and threw it inside the Jeep. Her pale skin, which Emma had inherited, tended to burn easily, making her reluctant to take off her cardigan. At least it was cotton and not wool. The soles of her feet burned already, but she couldn’t shed her winter boots either.

The sooner she got out of the sun, the better. Before she crossed to the diner, she glanced up and down the street that started and ended in a span of a few hundred feet. Her vehicle was the only one around. Despite the heat, she shivered. Something was off about this place.

She locked the Jeep and stowed her keys in her purse. If that man hadn’t approached, she would’ve assumed it was a ghost town. It wasn’t hard to surmise where the name of the diner had originated from.

Bells jingled as she pushed open the wooden door and welcome cold air blasted her face. She lifted her sunglasses onto the top of her head. A hush descended as fifteen people seated around round, well-worn wooden tables stopped talking and turned to face her. It wasn’t a ghost town after all.

Heidi froze and clutched her hands together. A bead of sweat dripped down her neck under their scrutiny. No one greeted her or offered a seat. They just stared, not with malice, or even interest, more like indifference.

The kitchen door swung open, and the man who’d approached her in the street came out with a plate of food and a glass of dark liquid she assumed was the promised tea. Follow me. There’s an empty table in the corner we save for newbies.

Newbies? Okay. As she followed him to the corner, the others ignored them and returned their attention to their food, a small relief in the grand scheme of things.

She sat with her back facing the crowd and peered out the window beside their table. The same expanse of desert covered the land as far as the eye could see, except for a dusty, red, beat-up pickup truck parked behind the restaurant. No streets. Her pulse drummed in her ears. She dug her phone out of her purse. No bars.

A steaming plate of eggs, bacon, and shredded hash browns clanged on the table in front of her. Eat up.

Heidi stared at the plate of food with no desire to eat. Um. Thanks. She picked up the glass in front of her and took a swallow of tea. The lemony, sweet, but not too sweet liquid relieved the burning in her throat. That’s better. Now, could you please tell me how to get out of here? Mister … sorry, I didn’t get your name.

It’s Dustin. Never mind the mister. And you are?

Heidi.

Nice to meet you, Heidi.

You, too. Do you have a map by any chance? Maybe Wi-Fi? Internet?

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. No point. He planted his elbows on the table and met her eyes. There’s no way out, no internet, and no connection to the outside world. You’re trapped here until it’s your time to leave. Every so often, people vanish from here the same way they appear. Out of nowhere. He swept his arm around the room. We’re all stuck.

She searched his brown eyes for a sign it was all a joke. People don’t just appear, then disappear. They must’ve found a way out.

No. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve literally watched the person in front of me fade away.

Uh-huh. What he said couldn’t possibly be true. Dustin must’ve had one too many at the saloon or hit his head. If there was a way in, then there had to be a way out. With an all-terrain vehicle, she could find a way out if anyone could. But what if she couldn’t?

Oh, Emma. Emma’s father had taken off years earlier. Who would take care of her? Surely someone would call her parents on Vancouver Island. Her head spun and stars clouded her vision.

A hand gripped her arm and snapped her train of thought. She glanced at Dustin’s hand on her sleeve. Steady there. Drink more tea. You’re pasty white. It’s the shock.

She picked up the glass and chugged the rest of her drink. The room righted itself. Sorry. I feel better now. Still headachy.

Don’t apologize. We’ve all been there. Now, eat. Trust me. You’ll feel better. I’ll get more tea and some pain relievers.

She nodded and picked up her fork. Food was fuel, exactly what she needed to assess this whole situation. A few bites of well-seasoned, delicious, scrambled eggs later, her appetite returned, and she devoured the rest of the food.

Dustin set her drink in front of her along with a few red Tylenols.

She tossed the pills in her mouth and rinsed them down with the tea. Thanks for breakfast and the pills. I should head out. What do I owe you?

Slow down. What’s the rush? You almost fainted earlier.

I have to try to get out of here. Is there a gas station?

No. What you see on this street is what you get. The other side of the street is all housing. On this side, we have the diner, the saloon, a grocery store, a laundromat, and a general store. That’s it.

She pointed out the window. How have you been gassing that truck?

It’s out of gas. Listen, since I’ve been here, four groups of people have tried the desert— headed north, south, east, and west. They all drove in different directions until they ran out of gas and had to hike back.

They found nothing? No sign of people at all?

He shook his head in response, a pained expression on his face.

Where are you getting food and supplies?

That’s the most peculiar thing about this place. The fridge and freezer refill themselves overnight, as do the shelves in the stores. And there’s electricity and plumbing, yet no source for either.

Really. That is odd. Power lines and pipes travel underground. There must be an explanation. She kept her opinions to herself. The best way to get people to talk was to act like you believed what they were saying. How did we all get here?

You don’t remember? Occasionally, people have no idea what they were doing before they ended up here.

I do. I was driving through thick ice fog on the road home. The last thing I saw was a massive shape with four legs on the side of the road. I closed my eyes and slammed on the brakes. When I opened my eyes, I was here.

That’s interesting. Ice fog.

She sipped her tea and shifted to get comfortable in her chair, intending to gather as much information as she could. How’d you get here?

He cleared his throat and glanced left. I fell asleep in my bed, then woke up here. It was night, and I was lying in the middle of the road.

Hmmm. I think there’s more to that story. So, not everyone arrives by vehicle?

No. The majority don’t. He stood. There’s a town record filled with stories of how everyone came to arrive, along with names and dates of all who’ve been here. You can borrow it. Oh, and I’ll get you a set of keys for an apartment across the street.

But … she said to his retreating back. I’m not staying.

She’d ascertained from their conversation that no one had tried driving northeast, northwest, southwest, or southeast. She had almost a full tank of gas, but she didn’t want to guess blindly. With no gas station, that one tank was her only chance to get home.

The best way to make an educated guess would be to conduct research and gather information the same way she would before drafting one of her mystery novels. Unfortunately, that would require the one thing she didn’t have: time. Emma needed her, but Heidi had no other option. She’d have to stay awhile with a glaring obstacle in her path: how to find a way out when no one knew the way in.

A large, worn, leatherbound book thudded on the table in front of her. Dustin set a keychain on top of it. Bring it back to me when you’re done. You’re in number ten. It’s the unit closest to your Jeep. Another woman about your size lived there a few months back. I left her stuff there. Help yourself to whatever you need in the stores.

Do you have time to answer more questions?

Sorry, no. I have to get prep done for lunch.

When can we talk?

Meet me at the saloon tonight around eight.

I’m trapped in a bad Western. Okay. Wait, what do I owe you?

Nothing. No one owns this place and everything’s free. No need for money.

He walked away, leaving her with her thoughts, and a whole lot of unanswered questions. She stroked her hand across the worn leather of the book in front of her. Please let there be answers in here.

Chapter Three

Heidi’s mind wanted to go in a bunch of directions and panic, following the threads of errant thoughts after all she’d learned. But she honed in on her main goal: getting home to Emma. With multiple sets of eyes digging into her back, concentrating would be impossible. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stood, collected her key and the ledger, then headed for the door.

A stern voice stopped her halfway to the door. Now hold on a minute, new lady.

Heidi turned. You mean me? My name is Heidi.

A middle-aged woman with grey at her temples stared daggers at her. Yes, you. Bring your dishes to the kitchen and load them in the dishwasher. No one here’s getting paid to pick up after you.

Breaking rules and offending people already. Fantastic. Sorry. I’ll do it right away.

Dustin came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron. It’s okay, Heidi. Go on. I’ll take care of it. He turned to face the woman who’d given her a tongue lashing. Mabel, mind your manners. That’s the newbie table, remember? Newbies don’t clear their own dishes.

Mabel huffed, ignored him, and started talking to the three other women her age at her table.

Heidi took that as her cue to leave. She pushed open the door, then cringed as the heat blasted her skin, and sweat dripped down the small of her back. Clutching the heavy volume to her chest, she crossed the street to her Jeep. With vehicles and gas being a hot commodity, she made sure her doors and gas cap were locked.

Behind her Jeep stood a long brownstone building divided into two-story townhouses, which extended from one corner of the dead-end street to the other. Each tiny unit had its own worn, wooden door and one window on each floor overlooking the diner and stores on the opposite side of the road. Upon closer inspection, she discovered a faded number ten on the unit closest to her vehicle.

The key turned in the well-used lock, and the flimsy door swung open with little effort. Dust bunnies rolled across the floor of the small, open living area, complete with a kitchenette, chair, and table. Besides the dust bunnies and the musty smell of stale air, things seemed tidy and cool.

Thank God for air conditioning. She placed the town ledger on the table, then kicked off her black leather boots, peeled off her socks, and wiggled her oxygen-starved, sweaty toes.

A bookcase angled in the corner by the window caught her attention. Books had been her favorite thing for as long as she could remember. She ran her hands along the spines of the paperbacks, stirring up dust. Familiar titles by popular authors like Stephen King, Iris Johansen, and Kelley Armstrong, filled the shelves. How had they manifested in the middle of nowhere?

She paused near the end of the top row and blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Yanking the book off the shelf, she