Into the Abyss by L T Vargus & Tim McBain

Author:L T Vargus & Tim McBain
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: female sleuth, police procedural, fbi thriller, serial killers
Publisher: Smarmy Press
Published: 2019-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Darger blinked, staring into the endless black abyss in front of her in a still half-asleep daze. It was so dark. The streetlight across the way usually offered a bit of dim light through the curtains at night. Just enough illumination to banish the pitch blackness.

No wait… that wasn’t right. She wasn’t in her apartment. She was in a hotel room. In Las Vegas.

She remembered now. The too-bright digital clock. The trip to the bathroom to cover it in white fluffy fabric.

She knew she should just close her eyes and go back to sleep, but she couldn’t resist torturing herself by seeing just how few hours there were left before she had to get up.

Reaching out a hand, she went to knock the towel away from the clock face. But something strange happened. Where she’d been expecting empty space, she suddenly encountered a hard, flat surface. A wall.

A wall where there shouldn’t be a wall.

She pressed her palm against the surface. Rough wood, by the feel of it.

Icy cold rippled over her skin. Fear. Her breath caught in her throat.

With a fingertip, she traced a line up the surface of the wall to a corner. More wood closed her in from above. Her finger kept moving and just as she’d feared, she discovered another corner, another wall.

A box.

A wooden box.

And underneath her? Not the mattress like she’d thought, but sand.

She was in the box.

Stump’s box.

She started to struggle. Beating her fists against the coffin-like lid. Kicking out with her feet as much as the confined space allowed.

Thrashing. Flailing.

Mind utterly blank of thoughts. No words. Only the terror. The panic.

Gasping for air now. Hyperventilating.

She’d pass out if she didn’t get her breathing under control, but she felt powerless to stop it. Panic attack. Total loss of control.

The clock on the bedside table said 2:21 AM when Darger woke from the nightmare. She must have flung the towel away as she thrashed herself awake.

She was still gasping for breath. Heart racing.

The back of her neck was sticky with sweat. Hair clinging to her clammy skin.

So much for getting out before Stump could get in her head. He was already in there, rearranging the furniture. Vandalizing the place. The fucker.

There was a bottle of fancy sparkling water on the dresser. Glass bottle and everything. Darger climbed out of bed and reached for it, taking a drink. It had been cold when they’d brought it up with her dinner, but now it was room temperature and partially flat. The strange mineral taste from the carbonation clung to her tongue.

But it did wake her a little from the daze the nightmare had left her in. She could feel the pounding of her heart beginning to slow as she drank, the manic drumbeat in her chest changing tempos.

The metal cap squeaked when she screwed it back on the bottle. It was a small noise that seemed much louder in the silence of the hotel room.

Darger went to the window and pushed the thick curtains aside. It was the middle of the night, but this part of town was still wide awake.

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