Alex is twenty and confused. He always is. Severely abused as a child, he’s left with scars on his body and even worse scars within his mind. But from this pain he receives his gift of empathy, his ability to see and react to the strong emotions of others. When a serial killer moves into the area and begins to threaten those around him, Alex is compelled by his visions to rescue them. When he can, he helps the police, yet some detectives suspect he’s the cause of the problem, not the solution.
As Alex comes closer to uncovering the killer’s identity, his visions turn to nightmares. He hears the cries of the children, the screams of the tortured. Will the support and love of his friends be enough to get Alex through this summer of terror, or will he lose himself in his dreams and become yet another victim to the killer’s gruesome games?
The bridge loomed ahead, and Alex suddenly stopped.
“Hey,” Angie said when she nearly ran into him.
He couldn’t hear her over the roaring in his head. He moved despairingly to the bridge and rested his arms on the chest-high rail. He couldn’t shut this voice out, no matter how hard he tried. Leaning over to watch the water flowing below, he said, “There’s a boy down there.”
Justin rushed to his side, pulling his shirt over his head in preparation to jump in. “Where?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
Justin hesitated, looking intently at him. When he saw Alex’s confusion, he put his shirt back on. “What do you mean?”
“I hear him. He’s lost and afraid and in a dark place.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as he frantically sorted through the voices and images that crowded his mind. “He’s in pain. I can’t be sure he’s down there. I don’t think he is.” He leaned farther over the rail for a better view. “But I hear him calling me, faintly. He draws me to this place.”
Justin leaned next to him. “I don’t see anyone down there. Maybe he’s not there yet. Maybe later tonight, or tomorrow, or …”
Alex drew in his breath. All along, he’d been afraid that he was losing his mind. But here were his friends, providing solace.
Angie put a hand on his arm. “Why not? Anything’s possible.”
He looked from her to Justin, who smiled back. “Alex, you’re surely strange enough to be psychic, if that’s what this is.”
Justin cuffed him on the back of the head and ran toward the house.