"In Thin Air" - Installment Eight - The Edge
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 Eight
The Edge
The drive to the trailhead took almost an hour.
Snow still clung to the higher elevations, lingering in patches beneath the pine trees. Daniel drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the center console.
For a while they talked about ordinary things.
Work.
Travel.
The absurd price of housing in Colorado.
The conversation drifted easily, as it always had.
Until it didn't.
Daniel glanced over.
"You still don't trust me."
Caroline laughed softly.
"That's a weird thing to say."
"It wasn't a question."
He smiled.
But something about it felt rehearsed.
The mountains grew larger outside the windshield.
The cell signal disappeared.
Daniel seemed to notice.
"No service from here on out."
"Good to know."
"Nobody can ever find me up here."
He chuckled.
As though it were a joke.
Caroline forced a smile.
A few minutes later he said:
"You know what's funny?"
"What?"
"People are terrible judges of character."
She looked out the window.
"What makes you say that?"
"Most people only see what they want to see."
His eyes remained fixed on the road.
"They create a story in their head and convince themselves it's true."
The words settled heavily between them.
Caroline thought about the basement.
The mattress.
The lock.
The deleted profile.
The article.
The name.
Daniel.
"You ever think about how easy it would be?" he asked.
Her heart skipped.
"Easy for what?"
"To disappear."
He shrugged.
"People vanish all the time."
Caroline stared at him.
Daniel laughed.
"I'm talking about hiking accidents."
But he didn't sound like he was talking about hiking accidents.
The rest of the drive passed in uneasy silence.
The trail narrowed the higher they climbed.
The air was thinner than she expected.
Each breath felt borrowed.
Daniel walked ahead, talking about runoff patterns and snowpack levels.
His voice became background noise.
Her pulse was louder.
They passed a weathered wooden sign.
UNMARKED DROP BEYOND THIS POINT
Daniel smiled.
"Best views are past here."
Of course they were.
Caroline noticed how isolated everything felt.
No other hikers.
No cell service.
No guardrails.
Nothing but rock, sky, and distance.
Her mind supplied headlines.
Daniel stopped near the edge.
The valley stretched endlessly below.
Silent.
Ancient.
Indifferent.
He pointed toward a distant ridgeline.
"Look at that ridge—"
Caroline wasn't looking at the ridge.
She was looking at him.
The basement.
The mattress.
The lock.
The article.
The woman climbing through a window well.
The text message.
You trust me yet?
Daniel stepped closer to the edge.
Still talking.
Still pointing.
Still unaware.
If I wait until I'm sure, it'll be too late.
Her hands were shaking.
He didn't notice.
He didn't notice anything.
For one final moment she considered asking.
Demanding answers.
Demanding a confession.
Demanding proof.
But what if he lied?
What if she waited?
What if she was right?
The decision was suddenly easy.
She stepped forward.
Placed both hands against his back.
And pushed.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't loud.
There was only a brief stumble.
A confused turn of his head.
An expression she would spend the rest of her life trying to interpret.
Then absence.
The valley swallowed him.
The mountains swallowed the sound.
The world kept moving.
Caroline remained frozen.
Her hands still extended into empty air.
The silence afterward was larger than the sky.
Epilogue
Three weeks later, Caroline sat alone in her apartment watching the evening news.
The anchor's voice barely registered.
Until one sentence did.
"Authorities announced the arrest of a suspect connected to multiple assaults involving women contacted through dating applications."
Caroline looked up.
The screen showed a mugshot.
A stranger.
Police believed the man had operated for years.
Several victims had now come forward.
Additional charges were expected.
The story continued.
Caroline didn't hear the rest.
Her apartment felt suddenly very small.
Outside, traffic moved through the city.
Inside, the television continued talking.
The world continued turning.
And somewhere beneath thousands of feet of Colorado rock and pine trees lay a man who might have been a predator.
Or might not have been.
Caroline turned off the television.
The room fell silent.
For the first time since meeting Daniel, she finally stopped second-guessing herself.
Unfortunately...
now she had a completely different reason to.
THE END
Author's Note
Thank you for joining me for my first modern penny dreadful.
In the Victorian era, readers waited each week for the next installment of a thrilling serialized story. More than a century later, I hope In Thin Air gave you that same feeling.
Until the next tale...
— K
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