Beyond the Spectrum by G. W. BOILEAU

Author:G. W. BOILEAU [BOILEAU, G. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-24T18:30:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

I stepped out of the panic room and left the door open, in case the hellish creature appeared again. Then I pulled Elise along behind me, deliberate in my slow steps across the floor. I inched my head out of the room and glanced down the hallway. It was a damn mess. The floor tiles were cracked, the walls ripped apart and the ceiling torn down the center.

I remained still and listened. The valley wind whistled and blew through the house.

I turned to look at Elise. “It’s clear.”

She inched behind me like a mouse, clutching onto my arm with a viselike grip. We hugged to the wall as we made our way down the broken corridor, and when we reached the end, I peered into the living and kitchen area. With the glass wall now gone, the cold rainy night was blowing into the house, and the drawn curtains fluttered like sails into the room, lashing out, snapping like whips. Leaves blew over the polished white tiles in swirls, and the rain pattered against the rocks of the Japanese garden outside.

It was dark out there. The clouds suffocated the moon and the only light came from the house, barely pressing against the outside world. Was it watching us? Waiting until we were at our most vulnerable?

I couldn’t think like that. I had to press on. I had to warn Chris, and I had to find Stuart.

I didn’t want to look at Chuck and Joe’s bodies. The two men had saved my life, and they were dead and I was still here. I owed them everything. They were a damn mess and it broke my heart.

“Come on,” I whispered.

I found my Smith at the bottom of the bamboo steps. I swapped out the magazine, the muscles around my shoulder joint twisting in agony as I holstered the pistol beneath my arm.

The front door was ajar, the wood frame splintered where Chuck and Joe had broken through. The door softly bumped against the broken lock. I pulled it toward me and took in the outside view. A steady drizzle washed down from the night sky, blown around by gusts of wind. The surrounding trees rustled and swayed, branches creaking from within the darkness.

“Come on,” I whispered to Elise, and I stepped onto the gravel.

Each step crunched underfoot, my senses hypervigilant, tracking the sounds of the night.

We moved quickly around the marked car and over to the Road Runner. Then I gripped hold of the wet steel handle and pressed my thumb into the button. The handle clicked and the door opened with the screech of an old steel hinge.

“Get in,” I told Elise, looking around. She scuttled over to the passenger side and I followed her in, pulling the door shut as gently as I could.

I fumbled the key into the ignition, shared a look with Elise, then turned. It clicked once. It clicked twice. Ignition on. Then I twisted and the engine turned over.

Re-re-re-re-re . . .

“Shit,” I spat. “Engine’s cold.”

I tried it again.

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