Spider Web: A Vampire Thriller (The Spider Trilogy Book 2) by J.R. Rain & Scott Nicholson

Author:J.R. Rain & Scott Nicholson [Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

We didn’t go back to our cabin.

Instead, we headed the opposite direction of the advancing security guards—who didn’t give pursuit as they were undoubtedly distracted by the royal mess they had on their hands—Parker and I headed up.

She hung on to me as I scaled the thirty-foot wall that ran between hallways. Few would have seen us. And if they had, we would have been a blur.

We found ourselves on an empty platform looking out over the ship. A smokestack rose next to us, belching gray steam. I grabbed Parker’s hand and led her around an air vent and out of sight of anyone above.

“Wait here,” I said. “And this time, do what I say.”

“Wait...what?”

“Exactly,” I said and headed back the way we’d come, this time stopping one floor above. I put a shoulder into the first cabin door I came across and lucked out. It was empty. That’s where my luck ended. Nothing but women’s clothing. Dammit. I continued searching through their suitcases and finally pulled out an oversized shirt that must have been used for a nightgown.

I could live with the blood splatter on my jeans. I threw on the shirt even as I scaled back up the wall. Yeah, don’t ask me how.

Now wearing a clean thermal and smelling slightly of old woman’s perfume and sitting once again with Parker, I wasn’t even out of breath. Yeah, I’m a freak.

“That was quick,” said Parker, eyeing the shirt.

“I kill even quicker. At least, back in the day.”

“Thanks for that worthless piece of information, Spider. So what the hell are we going to do?” For the first time, perhaps ever, I saw that Parker was losing it. She was shaking badly, and I didn’t blame her. We had just witnessed one hell of a frightful scene. Also, I reminded myself that, despite the shit she had been through in her life, very few had ever—and will ever, hopefully—see the walking dead. And she was, after all, only eighteen years old.

I was about to answer her when I saw that she didn’t really need words. No, she needed something else and so I pulled her in close and held her tight as the fan behind us clicked on, humming gently, all while a steady stream of shouts reached us from below.

We sat like that for a long time.

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