PHOTOBOMBED: Part II

A serialized thriller! Will our newlyweds live long enough to see a Part III?

For the entirety of PHOTOBOMBED: Part I, click here.

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Jack pulled the curtains shut and locked the window.

“What’s going on?” Karina asked. “Is the front desk answering?”

“He’s outside.”

“Who?”

“The guy.”

“What?”

“The guy from the pictures. He knows what room we’re in.”

Karina sat upright. “How do you know?”

“He waved to me,” Jack answered flatly, redialing the front desk. “Shit!” he slammed down the phone.

Unable to help himself, Jack parted the curtains once more. The man hadn’t moved. He was still in the hotel courtyard, standing in the haunting light of the tiki torches, wearing long khaki pants and that same goofy straw Panama hat. But the hat, tipped low to cover his eyes, didn’t appear so goofy now.

Jack looked beyond and noticed a thick blanket of storm clouds blowing in from the ocean.

“What should we do?” Karina asked softly.

“There’s not much we can do,” Jack answered, walking past her and double-locking the door. “The front desk isn’t answering, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave the room.”

“So we just wait until tomorrow?”

“Guess so,” he said, joining his wife on the bed. “Then I’ll go to the front desk and switch our room. Or maybe we can go to another hotel altogether. I’m sure they’ll accommodate us, given the circumstances. This type of stuff is bad for business.”

He dug the TV remote out from under the blankets and tossed it toward Karina. “How about you put something on to distract us?”

Being in the sun all day, combined with the stress of the evening, had completely wiped Karina out. Still, she feigned a smile and started flipping through the channels, eventually landing on a show featuring a celebrity plastic surgeon tasked with fixing bad nose jobs, reupholstering botched implants, and performing a litany of other questionable cosmetic miracles.

A few episodes later, Jack felt his eyelids getting heavy. He rolled off the bed and walked toward the window.

“What are you doing?” Karina asked sleepily.

He peeked behind the curtain. “Just checking one more time before we get ready for bed.”

“Do you see anyone?”

“Nope. Place is empty.”

“I guess even psychos need their beauty sleep,” she murmured.

Jack jumped back into the bed and kissed Karina on her forehead. “Yeah, must be tiring stalking the innoc—"

He stopped mid-syllable.

Karina heard it, too. “What was that?” she whispered.

“Could’ve been the air conditioner,” he whispered back.

She shook her head.

Jack stepped around the wall that separated their bed from the kitchenette and looked down the short-tiled walkway leading to the door. Then he saw it. A slip of paper that blended so seamlessly with the pale ceramic flooring that he had nearly missed it.

Without thinking, he ran forward and furiously began to undo each of the locks, but by the time he had untangled the chain and got out into the hall, whoever had slid the paper under their door had disappeared. He dashed along the corridor from end to end, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

“Jack,” he heard Karina call out.

A pang of fear struck his chest. He ran back to the hotel room and slammed the door behind him; however, relief came quickly as he saw Karina, safe and sound, sitting at the edge of the bed. Still, as he approached her, he knew something wasn’t right. In her trembling hands, she was holding the slip of paper.

“Babe, what does it say?”

At this point, Karina was shaking uncontrollably. Her lips parted, but the words stubbornly refused to leave. Then, painfully, slowly, the syllables began to escape.

“I’m scared, Jack. I’m really, really scared.”

Jack returned to the bed and sat down next to his wife. With one hand, he hugged her sunburnt shoulders close; with the other, he delicately plucked away the note. He unfolded where she had creased the paper and forced himself to read. But just one glance told him everything he needed to know—they weren’t dealing with some ordinary weirdo.

A boom of not-so-distant thunder rattled the windows and shook the room. A long crack of lightning followed. Then, suddenly, the room went dark, and all they could discern amidst the blackness was the faint outline of the tiki torches glowing in the distance.

Stay tuned for Part III…

***This is my first crack at serialized fiction here on Substack. I hope you liked it and will join me for Part III. Things are going to take an unfortunate turn for these newlyweds, so unfortunate that there may not be enough time for a Part IV!***