15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Shelby
After a couple of hours of sleep, I rise with a yawn and glance around. My bladder is telling me in no uncertain terms that I need to go now but I don’t have a damn light and it’s really freaking dark. Does this place even have indoor plumbing?
Since I have far more to fear in the dark than I ever thought possible, I decide stepping outside is the way to go. At least out there, I’ll have the moon to guide me.
I’ll pee really quickly and be back inside in no time. The tiny sensible part of my brain urges me to find Cason because wandering off in the dark is stupid but I’m still burning over his comments earlier and I choose to be mad for a little while longer.
At the door, I pause because it creaks loudly before stepping outside when no one stirs.
The moon shines just bright enough to see the overgrown shrubs and path leading through the yard.
I don’t plan on going far and I’m squirming in my pants as I stop beside a particularly bushy plant and unbutton them.
Before squatting behind it, I look around, the chill of the evening air coating my skin before I do my business, lamenting the lack of toilet paper when I’m finished.
Since I’m already covered in dirt and sweat, not to mention the remnants of blood and brain probably still stuck in crevices that I’m unaware of, I guess a little pee isn’t so bad. Still, I feel the grime in my soul as I rise and pull up my pants.
It’s only as I’m turning back to the door do I pause, my stomach clenching.
Run! My brain screams the warning, but I’m frozen in place as a shadow forms over my shoulder.
Fuck me but why did I let my stubborn ass mind overrule my good sense?
Cason
Zoey stirs in my arms and I back away from the door before stepping silently down the hall. Larry’s snores guide the way and after laying Zoey down beside her sister, I survey the room. Nora rests against the wall, her head tipped toward her chest while Larry lays opposite, his arms over his eyes.
Nate faces the wall, clutching his knees and Lance sits beside Nora. Every once in a while, I hear a soft whimper pass his lips and when Bo raises his head beside Bean, she wags her tail.
What I don’t see is Shelby. When I walked away, she was sitting on the other side of Nora.
So, where the fuck did, she go? She didn’t come toward the kitchen because I would have passed her.
Turning back to the stairs, I stare into the darkness above. Would she go up there alone?
Absently I note the trickle of sweat sliding down my spine before I stalk back to the door hidden in the corner of the kitchen.
After shining the flashlight around, I spy several more sets of footprints leading to the door we entered. The varying sizes lead me to believe whoever is or was here includes more than one person.
While I hope they’re long gone, I have to assume they’re not until I prove otherwise and with my gun in hand, I push the door open before shining the light inside.
It’s a stairwell but instead of leading into a basement as I would have expected, it goes up. Does it lead to an attic or was this where the staff lived back in the day?
The spiral staircase winds toward the wall preventing me from seeing beyond the first curve and I step into the circle created by the railing before shining the light above me.
Nothing but shadows is my reward and with no other choice, I ascend carefully, shining the light across the walls as I round each bend.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much in the way of cover and I damn the old iron every time it creaks beneath my feet.
After wiping the sweat from my brow, I stop before the door at the top. It’s achingly quiet beyond the pounding of my heart.
Silently counting down in my head, I push it open and move the beam of light across the room. Whatever function it used to serve, it’s an attic now and boxes obscure the layout, creating a maze that I pick through as I walk beyond the door.
The preternatural quiet raises goosebumps on my skin and I’m reminded of the time I responded to a domestic violence call.
Just a rookie at the time, I was still trying to prove myself and after rolling up to the house, my partner, with decades more experience, said, “Nice and slow, yeah?”
We searched the property twice for a way in before finally breaking down the front door. After clearing the front half of the house, we moved down the hall. It was so damn quiet I could hear the ticking of the clock in the living room and as we stopped before the last door, I paused.
My skin prickled and what can only be described as dread coiled around my spine. Dropping to one knee, I turned to my partner, but I never got the words out when gunfire exploded beyond that damn door and he took the brunt of it.
To this day, his wide eyes haunt me and whenever the dreams rise, I push that shit back into the box where it belongs. I lost a good partner and a friend that day. I also learned a valuable lesson.
Always listen to your instincts, which is why I slow as that same feeling of dread washes over me. Whatever it is, I know I’m not going to like it. I just never expected what I actually saw when I rounded the last pile of boxes.