21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Shelby
Tears blur my vision as I blink awake, touching my chest beneath which, my heart aches. I gave so much of myself to my husband, and he never truly accepted the gift.
He always wanted more, so much more. Frankly, I think if he could have, he would’ve burrowed beneath my skin so he would always be with me.
His version of love almost killed me and now here I am, in an abandoned funeral home, surrounded by strangers with one thing in common. The universe truly does work in mysterious fucking ways.
Wiping away the sweat dotting my brow, I rest my head in my hands and wait for my pattering heart to slow to it’s normal beat. As I do, the silent surroundings penetrate my fog, and I look up.
Where did the girls go? Nate? Elaine? It’s quiet. Too quiet.
The room has darkened since I fell asleep and ignoring the chill dancing across my skin, I ease from the bench and tiptoe down the aisle, checking the pews as I go. They’re all empty, though.
Where’s Bean with her adorable little whine and big brown eyes? Why would Amanda and Zoey go anywhere with Nate, unless . . . my stomach sinks at the realization that maybe we trusted the wrong people.
Did Elaine lead them away somewhere? If so, why leave me behind?
Swinging around, I follow the aisle to the hall where darkness greets me. With no natural source of light down the bisecting halls, the windows at the front of the building offer minimal coverage, making the trek creepier.
I find the office and two side rooms beyond empty. The bathrooms remain achingly quiet and dark inside. This leaves the kitchen down the other hall, and I approach the small circle of light I can see inside.
The source turns out to be a skylight in the ceiling but when I poke my head inside, I’m greeted by more silence. Maybe they’re outside? Maybe Cason is back?
Spinning away, I rush to the exit and press against the bar before staring out into the greenery behind the building.
Although I strain to hear anything that might indicate the group has returned, it’s achingly quiet once more.
With a trickle of awareness, I ease the door slowly closed before tiptoeing around to the courtyard.
Beautiful evergreens tower over my head as I go, creating a blanket of shade that disappears as soon as I reach the corner of the building. A small pond beyond sparkles despite the dark clouds but that’s not what I’m considering as I turn back to the building.
The only place I haven’t checked is the fucking basement.
With my pulse pounding, I reenter the building and walk to the door leading down there. Every particle of my being screams to stay far away but I can’t ignore the fact that the girls might be in danger.
Unfortunately, my worst fears are confirmed when I find the deadbolt unlocked and I shudder at the ominous sound as I ease the door open.
Beyond the first few stairs I can’t see a damn thing and I stare into the pitch-black abyss before me, afraid to call out because what if something lurks in the darkness?
I wouldn’t be helping anyone if I tried to navigate without light. Instead, I consider the flashlight Cason had at the old Victorian house before retracing my steps to the main room and approaching the bag he left behind.
Sending a silent prayer to the universe, I pull open the flaps and find the hefty flashlight on top before grabbing it and making my way back to the basement door.
My heart pounds so hard I worry it might give out on me as I descend the steps, achingly slowly. It’s impossible to remain completely soundless when it’s already so quiet and I wince with every creak and groan.
At the bottom, I swing the flashlight back and forth but all I see are concrete floors and a wall blocking my path. Of course, the door to whatever lies beyond is cracked open and after wiping my palm down my pants, I switch the flashlight to the other hand and repeat the gesture.
A trickle of sweat slides down my back as I approach the opening, the flashlight aimed into the darkness. The old wood door groans loudly as I push it back before raising the light and shining it around the room.
On the opposite wall, there are stainless steel counters, tools I refuse to analyze and a small radio. A few gurneys rest against the next wall, empty but for a folded sheet on top.
Large, framed art pieces on the walls depict scenes of wildflowers and majestic trees while lavender mixed with an odd smell I can’t decipher tickle my nose.
There’s an industrial sized door to my left, where I suspect the bodies are brought in. Currently closed, it does allow a small path of light through the window at the top.
Shadows follow that path as I cast the beam to the last wall and freeze, my bones turning to ice. Is that a man?
"Shit," I cry, backing toward the exit. Unfortunately, I miss the mark and tumble over something on the floor before landing on my ass with a wince.
The cold from the concrete floors immediately seeps into my jeans and when a chill marches down my spine, I push to my feet and move the light back to the wall.
The man or whatever it is hasn’t moved though and after several minutes of silence, I slowly exhale. It can’t be one of them because it would be halfway across the floor by now.
Either way, I don’t plan to investigate further and step around the box that I originally tripped on, sitting on the floor.
A makeup compact, mascara and tube of lipstick lay beside it and I look up at the ceiling.
Did these items belong to someone for whom a funeral was going to be conducted upstairs if shit hadn’t hit the fan?
Where’s the body though? Fuck.
Shining the light around the room once more, I stop on the wall to the right where there's another door. I do not want to see what’s on the other side, but do I have a choice? There’s still no sign of the girls.
My stomach churns as I make my way to the door. I can’t escape the feeling that I’m going to see something that I can’t ever unsee. Please let them be alive.
What if I’m alone? What if they’re gone and Cason doesn’t come back?
Setting aside the thought because hysteria is not what I need right now, I grab the cold brass knob.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
After drawing in a breath, I yank on the door before stepping back. It’s not a room on the other side. I think it might be an elevator and resting within, is a fucking gurney with a suspicious lump below the thin white sheet.
All sorts of horror filled scenarios fill my head before I groan. The universe surely wouldn’t be that cruel, right? Apparently, it is because just as I think it, the sheet twitches and a loud crack resounds above me followed by a roar.
“Fuck,” I shriek before jumping back, spinning around and taking the steps two at a time until I’m at the top.
Once I’m beyond the door, I sag against the wall and bow my head. Now that I’m free of the basement, the sound of the rain pounding against the roof explains the odd roar, but I still don’t know where my people are and I refuse to think about what I left behind in that elevator.
“Find anything?” For a moment I think the question was meant for me, but I don’t recognize the voice and it’s coming from down the hall.
Maybe this is all a misunderstanding and I’m going to find my group laughing at my paranoia but I’m still cautious as I tiptoe that way and stop outside the main room where I spy Zoey’s bright head of hair. Where the fuck did the man come from though?
Falling back to the wall, I gaze blindly out the front window, surveying the trees and wrought iron fence while I try to catch my breath.
When that does nothing for my panic, I peek around the door to assess the situation.
From this vantage point, with the man standing over a kneeling Zoey, he appears quite tall.
I can’t see much beyond the wide brimmed hat on his head but the rifle against his shoulder pointing to the ceiling does not bode well for my unarmed group.
Zoey, who’s golden hair is tipped toward the floor holds a trembling Bean in her arms but there's no sign of the others. There’s no version of this scenario where Amanda would leave her sister alone, which means she’s either dead or being held under duress.
Should I confront the man or try to find the reminder of the group?
“Nope,” a second man says, and I fall back, stifling a gasp.
Shit. There’s more than one. I’m outnumbered and outgunned—literally.
Fuck me.
“Where’s your friends, little one?” the first man asks, and I curl my fingers into fists when he nudges her with the tip of his boot.
Whatever happens, I can’t let Zoey handle this alone. But will I be of better use if I wait for our people to return?
When Zoey doesn’t answer, the man crouches before her, touching the pretty golden streaks in her hair. My stomach drops to my knees at that and I’m just about to step out and reveal myself when the other man asks, “What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
How do they know there are others? Were they watching us? My soul shivers at the thought and I back away as the man by the window stalks my direction.
What do they want? We don’t have supplies beyond what Elaine produced from the office. Refusing to consider the alternative, I step into the kitchen, hoping the asshole goes the other direction.
There’s nowhere to hide unless I get under the table, but it wouldn’t be hard to spot me from there and I refuse to put myself in a weakened position.
Despite the chilly interior, sweat gathers along my spine as I peek around the door and watch the man disappear down the darkened hall. He’s the one in charge but where’s he going?
Until I have a plan, which at this point would be distracting the assholes before swooping Zoey and Bean up, I can only wait for the right opportunity.
I don’t have a weapon and even if I did it would be no match for a gun. My previous success with fighting off assholes is not promising and without knowing what these men want, I’m walking into a situation in which I have zero control.