“Hey,” he says. “I was about to call you.”
“You were?” I ask.
“Yeah. I looked into that email address you sent me, but I wasn’t able to get you a name. It’s through an app and can’t be linked to a specific IP. And there’s no name attached to it.”
“Thank you for checking. But I have another question for you. I’m going to switch you to video call.”
“Okay.”
He sounds wary, but I can’t really blame him. I switch the call and wave when he appears on the screen. He waves back and I pick up the piece of the paper with the code on it.
“I got another of those cards. It came with an advent calendar.”
“An advent calendar? Like those little things that have the chocolate behind the doors?” he asks.
“Same general idea. But this one is made of wood. And there wasn’t chocolate behind the first door. All that was in it was this piece of paper.” I hold it up so he can see the code. “There’s no explanation. Just the code. Should I scan it?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he says. “You don’t know where it came from or what it could be. Give me a minute, and I will call you right back.”
I nod and hang up, setting the phone aside. The front door opens, and Sam comes in carrying boxes from the restaurant. He brings them into the dining room to set them on the table, then comes back.
“Is that what was in the package?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s an advent calendar. I opened the first window, but there was only a piece of paper in it.” My phone rings and I look at it. “This is Eric.” I click the button to answer and he appears on the screen again. “Hey.”
“Hey. Alright, I got a secure phone, so if there’s something wrong with that code, it won’t affect either of our personal phones. Go ahead and hold it up.”
I hold the code up and he uses another phone to scan the code.
“Did it come up with anything?” I ask.
“Yeah. Give me a second to check it over.”
“Do you want your lunch?” Sam asks.
I nod and he walks out of the room, returning with both boxes. He sits down on the floor at the end of the coffee table and spreads the food out. I had just gotten in a few bites of my sandwich when Eric’s face came back onto the screen.
“So, everything looks fine. I didn’t detect any viruses or malware. It looks as if the code is safe.”
“What did it bring up?” I ask.
“A Christmas letter,” Eric tells me.
“A Christmas letter?” I ask.
“Mmmm-hmmm. Go ahead and scan it. Give me a call if you need anything else.”
“I will. Thanks, Eric.”
I hang up and immediately scan the code. A second later, the screen fills with a letter. It looks like a piece of stationery with little candy canes, holly, and bells creating a cheerful border around the edge. The font is very similar to the one the handwriting on the first card seemed to be trying to emulate.
Dear Emma,
Can you believe it’s been so long? We have so much to catch up on. But before I can tell you everything, I have a few friends who are having a little trouble with their Christmas lists. Maybe you could help them. Don’t take too long. The holiday rush is here. Wouldn’t want coal left for them.
Merry Christmas.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say anything else.”
I reach for the Advent calendar.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m going to open the other doors,” I tell him. “I don’t particularly enjoy surprises, and I have a feeling whatever is behind these doors is something I’m not going to want to dole out to myself every day for the next month. Whoever is doing this may want to screw with me, but I’m not just going to play by the rules for their amusement.”
I open the door for tomorrow and take out another piece of paper. It has another code on it and I set it aside. When I try to open the next door, it doesn’t move.
“What’s wrong?” Sam frowns.
“It’s glued shut,” I say. “I can’t open it.”
“That’s strange.”
“I can’t open this one, either,” I say. “Trying the next one.”
The next several doors won’t open, but when I find another that does, there’s another folded piece of paper inside. I add it to the stack and continue on going through the calendar. Again, there are several days where the doors won’t open before I find another that does.
By the time I get through the entire calendar, I have a stack of four codes sitting on the table. I pick up the one on top and scan it. I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but rather than getting answers, I get another taunt. A message appears on the screen in the shape of a gift tag bouncing back and forth like it’s dancing to background music.
“No peeking,” the tag reads.
Underneath the warning is the date from the calendar door, typed in a font to look like scribbled handwriting.
“It’s timed,” I say. I grab the next one and scan the code, but it’s the same thing. “Shit. They’re forcing me to go along with it. The codes are timed. I can’t see what they’re linked to until the date.”
“We’ll just have to wait until tomorrow,” Sam says. “That’s the first one.”
I nod, trying to tell myself it won’t be that hard. I can be patient. But even as I’m thinking it, I know it’s going to drive me insane. I need to know what those links mean. This isn’t the first time someone has decided to play a sick game with me. It’s nothing new.
And that pisses me off.
I’m done with the bullshit. I’m done with people
