A Tall Dark Trouble by Vanessa Montalban

Author:Vanessa Montalban
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zando

TWENTY-TWO

Miami, November 19, 2016

* * *

DELFI

There’s a man outside the boatyard.

So we hadn’t imagined the sound of a car door slamming. Andres clicks off the flashlight and grabs my hand, moving toward the hallway of the abandoned offices. “Stay close,” he says. I hear the rumble of the man’s voice as he gets closer, entering the warehouse through the metal door we left open.

The adrenaline kicks in, and I almost tug my hand away from Andres, try to run, but I pull back. Think, think. There’s an empty office room with a window facing the front of the warehouse, a storage room, and—

“There’s a bathroom.” My throat is dry, eroded with fear. The bitter taste of metal gets stronger, mingled with the earthy taste of tobacco—a brujo. “The room before this one, i-it was a bathroom with a window facing the forest.” We inch our way closer to the door, trying not to trip on the debris.

Andres holds tight to my hand, presses his face close to mine, nearly forehead to forehead. “Delfi, listen. Whatever you do, don’t turn back. I’m going to create a distraction and when you hear my signal, run. Jump out of the window and run.”

“Like hell,” I say. “I’m not leaving here without you.”

We freeze as we hear the man’s steps getting closer to where we’re hiding. It sounds like he’s on the phone. He’s talking in Spanish as he walks around, peering under the boats and saying that he thinks he’s in the right place.

My blood runs cold as I catch “hay alguien aquí,” and “sí es ella, la mató.”

He knows someone’s in here. He said he’ll kill her if she’s here. But who’s her? Me?

“He’ll hear us trying to escape,” Andres whispers harshly. “These windows are rusted shut and haven’t been opened in years.”

“Forget it. I’m not leaving by myself.” I yank at his arm, making sure he stays close. We slip out of the room and into the gutted bathroom we’d passed earlier. We make it just in time. From the main storage room, a shaft of light slices through the dark.

The man’s steps echo through the hall.

My nails dig into Andres’s arm, and I force myself to grab hold of his jacket instead as we move toward the bathroom window. Our shoes stick to the floors, and I know he’s going to hear us because it’s impossible to get around without stepping on something broken or slippery or disgusting.

There’s a crash outside in the main storage area. The man’s speaking into his phone. I don’t sense her. Maybe she hasn’t been here in a while. It sounds like he’s about to go, but then he tells the person on the other line to shut up, he hears something.

He hears us. He has to hear us. All I hear is us.

Andres slowly wedges the window open, and it lets out a small pop. We tense. It’s an agonizingly slow process, but eventually, he manages to get the window half open. We’re squeezed

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