"In Thin Air" - Installment Four - The Article
PREFACE
During the Victorian era, “penny magazines”—often called penny dreadfuls—revolutionized storytelling. These serialized thrillers were sold in weekly installments for just a penny, bringing suspenseful tales to the working class and transforming fiction from an elite luxury into an affordable pastime for the masses.
Today, in the Information Age—somewhere between TikTok scrolls and rapidly shrinking attention spans—I’m resurrecting the spirit of the penny dreadful. But this time, it’s completely free, delivered right here on my blog.
So without further ado… (drumroll please)
Welcome to my first serialized short story of "In Thin Air":
Installment Four
The Article
The lunchroom at Front Range Energy always smelled like reheated leftovers and burnt coffee.
Caroline sat across from Jenna at one of the tables by the window, picking at a salad she wasn’t particularly interested in eating.
Outside, downtown Denver looked bright and normal. Sunlight bounced off glass buildings. People walked past with coffee cups and briefcases and the quiet confidence that nothing bad ever really happened in broad daylight.
Inside, Jenna was scrolling through her phone, her expression tightening.
“Have you seen this?” she asked.
Caroline glanced up. “Seen what?”
Jenna turned the screen toward her.
A headline filled it:
LOCAL WOMAN ESCAPES AFTER THREE DAYS IN BASEMENT
Caroline frowned. “That’s… awful.”
“It’s insane,” Jenna said. “She met the guy on a dating app.”
Caroline’s fork paused midair.
“Which one?”
“They didn’t say. Probably one of the usual ones.”
Jenna kept reading, her voice lowering.
“She doesn’t remember much. She thinks he drugged her.”
Caroline felt something small and cold settle in her stomach.
“What do you mean, doesn’t remember?”
“Like… barely anything,” Jenna said. “She remembers meeting him. Then waking up in a basement on a mattress.”
Caroline slowly set her fork down.
Jenna scrolled.
“Listen to this—she said he was wearing a mask.”
“A mask?”
“Yeah. One of those Covid-19 masks. She couldn’t identify him. Apparently his profile was full of ski photos and him wearing sunglasses.”
Caroline blinked.
“So they don’t know who he is?”
Jenna shook her head.
“No name. No clear description. Nothing.”
She paused, scrolling further.
“Wait—hold on.”
“What?”
“They said his dating profile was deleted.”
Caroline stilled.
“Deleted?”
“Yeah. Like… gone. They pulled partial data, but it’s not active anymore.”
Jenna squinted at the screen.
“But she remembers the name he used.”
Caroline felt something shift, subtle but sharp.
“What was it?”
Jenna glanced up.
“Daniel.”
Caroline let out a small breath.
“Daniel?”
Jenna shrugged. “I mean… that could be anyone.”
Caroline nodded quickly.
“Yeah. It’s a common name.”
But something tightened in her chest anyway.
Daniel.
Her Daniel.
But that didn’t mean anything.
There were thousands of Daniels in Denver. Thousands more on dating apps.
She forced a small laugh.
“That’s… not exactly helpful.”
“Seriously,” Jenna said. “That narrows it down to like half the male population.”
Jenna kept reading.
“She didn’t even know where she was taken. Said when she escaped it was dark and she just ran through the woods for hours. Couldn’t find the house again.”
Caroline pictured it without meaning to.
Concrete walls.
Low ceiling.
A small window just high enough to reach.
Her stomach twisted.
“How did she get out?”
“He left,” Jenna said. “She found a window well, broke it, and climbed out.”
Caroline swallowed.
“God.”
“Yeah.”
Jenna scrolled again, then paused.
“Oh—this part’s worse.”
Caroline looked up. “What?”
“Police think he’s done this before.”
Caroline frowned.
“How would they know that?”
Jenna didn’t look up from the screen.
“Because no one does something like that for the first time.”
The words settled heavily between them.
“They’re asking anyone who interacted with someone suspicious on a dating app to come forward,” Jenna added.
Caroline shifted in her seat.
“Well that’s comforting.”
Jenna glanced up.
“You’re still on Bumble, right?”
Caroline shrugged.
“Yeah. I mean… who isn’t?”
“True.”
Jenna tilted her head.
“You met anyone decent yet?”
Caroline hesitated.
“Maybe.”
Jenna’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
“You did.”
“It’s nothing,” Caroline said quickly.
“Name.”
She sighed. “Daniel.”
Jenna grinned. “That sounds promising already.”
“It’s not like that,” Caroline said. “We’ve just gotten drinks.”
“Multiple drinks?”
Caroline hesitated.
“…Yeah.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Bold.”
Caroline gave a small laugh.
“He’s normal.”
Jenna snorted. “Define normal.”
Caroline thought for a second.
“He works in consulting so he's got a flexible lifestyle. He’s smart. Funny. Loves travel and adventure.”
Jenna went still for just a moment.
“Consulting?”
Caroline’s stomach tightened slightly.
“Yeah.”
Jenna glanced back at the article.
“They said this guy was some kind of professional consultant, too.”
There it was again.
That flicker.
Quick. Uncomfortable.
Daniel was a consultant.
But that didn’t mean anything.
She pushed it down.
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” she said lightly.
“Fair.”
Jenna shrugged.
“Still… apparently he seemed totally normal too.”
Caroline looked down at her salad.
“Great.”
“I mean, think about it,” Jenna said. “Of course they seem normal. Otherwise, no one would go out with them.”
Caroline pushed her plate away.
“I suddenly feel like deleting every app.”
“Honestly? Same.”
Jenna stood, tossing her container in the trash.
“Just promise me one thing.”
Caroline looked up. “What?”
“Don’t go to some random guy’s house or go hiking with him alone in the woods, okay?”
Caroline nodded.
“Deal.”
But as she gathered her things, a thought flickered quietly in the back of her mind.
Almost without thinking, she pulled out her phone and opened Bumble.
The screen loaded.
Then refreshed.
Daniel’s profile was gone.
She stared at it for a moment.
Gone.
Just… gone.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Then she exhaled.
People unmatched all the time.
Deleted apps. Took breaks. Got busy.
It didn’t mean anything.
Daniel had already invited her hiking.
Alone.
In the mountains.
She told herself that was normal. I mean, Jenna watched entirely too many true crime shows.
Colorado people hiked with strangers all the time.
Still…
The image came back.
A woman climbing through a narrow basement window.
Glass breaking.
Concrete scraping against her hands.
Dark.
Small.
Caroline locked her phone and stood.
She was being ridiculous.
And, that concludes Installment 4. Quick shoutout to AI for my illustrations again. I left it as is to show that maybe illustrators are not being replaced by AI. If you see it, you see it. Wink. Until next week...
Kimmie
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