It was dark when Roberto awoke. He was outside, his back uncomfortably pressed against something hard. He tried to move his arms or stand but strong ropes held him in place. He was tied to a tree.

“Hey! Help! Help!”

Nobody seemed to hear him, despite a cemetery filled with people. He could see flashlights moving between the tombstones and among the trees. Halloween. Roberto heard the faint shouts of university kids, partying somewhere nearby. Closer, he heard individual shouts and cheers coming from every direction, but nobody responded to his cries.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds allowing Roberto to make out his surroundings. He was tied to a tree of average size, behind the big Ash Tree he used to run by in the cemetery. Why had somebody left him just inside the cemetery, near the break in the fence? He remembered the white-haired man, the surprise injection, and passing out in the foyer of Loon Lake Hospital. This must be the work of Helen’s enemies. Did they put him here for Helen to find him?

Poor boy. Don’t bother your head trying to figure it out. Just relax.

Roberto tried to locate the source of the voice, but nobody was there.

Roberto, you are outranked, outflanked, and you surrendered before you knew we were at war. When it comes to strategy, you flunked the final exam.

“Professor Rudolph?”

I am Rudolph, yet so much more. Let go. Join the amalgam of consciousness. I can already taste your memories and thoughts. Peruvian archeology. Your abuela’s magic. Delicious visions of Machu Picchu in sunshine, and the smell of rain on the Inca Trail. It’s a shame I’ll never walk it with my wife . . .

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Roberto felt hundreds of disjointed images and sounds stream into his mind, making his head spin. He strained against his ropes not wanting to hear Rudolph’s silky words in his head or relive the Professor’s memories, but he couldn’t resist forever. The pull of something under the ground crooned at him to surrender.

He felt himself slipping into a murmur of voices gathered somewhere in the earth below. With every minute, they sounded louder, the words and images more fascinating. He felt his body relax as his mind opened to it and all pain faded away. Even if someone were to cut his bonds right now he might be tempted to stay a little longer. Long enough to understand what he was feeling—

—unless the person cutting the ropes was Lynette. The memory of her face and her slender arms returned to him and he wanted to escape again.

Don’t struggle. You’ll only make it worse.

Roberto tried to wriggle free of the fibers. They moved like pythons, cinching him tighter each time he exhaled, winding relentlessly up and around his chest, compressing more and more of his ribcage.

“Help! Help!”

His cries started out strong but petered out as constriction made it hard to breathe, and fibers began growing into his mouth. He gnawed them off and spat them out, but a new crop forced their way in. The second he stopped fighting he would stop breathing, asphyxiated by the living gag, and coils crushing his ribs.

And then, salvation. A couple came along the path, laughing and talking, unaware of his plight. Roberto was so tightly bound he couldn’t move an arm to wave, or use his fiber-filled mouth to shout.

If he could just make a sound they might look his way. Inhaling through his nose, Roberto tried to yell.

Whistling through roots that clogged his throat, a scream came out, too muffled to hear. Roberto took a second breath and waited for them to get closer. The coils kept tightening around his ribs but if he kept his lungs full, he should have enough breath for one last sound as they passed.

The coils seemed to anticipate his strategy, cinching his chest until he felt a rib waver, then snap under pressure. Through agony, Roberto felt the coils tighten around the break to take up the slack. Everything went cold except the pain. His body shook, and he had to fight to stay conscious. The vines were crushing his chest, rib by rib, and there was no way to stop them. If he died he’d never see Lynette again.

Give up, Roberto, you can’t resist. The pain will end when you let go.