New Orleans Nightmare by Sal Bianchi

Author:Sal Bianchi [Bianchi, Sal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

16

Fiona and Dylan were close behind me as we entered the house on stilts, and Dylan closed the door behind us. We were in a small kitchen with the lights off, the door an open archway that led to the rest of the building.

I slunk forward and checked the hall, which was illuminated, unlike the kitchen. I could hear voices coming from somewhere but not see them, so I waved the others forward, and we carefully crept out of the kitchen.

From the outside, the building was long and narrow, and from the inside, it looked like the hall ran down the center of the structure, with doors studded along either wall. It was good that we didn’t have to search a vast building for our prize, but bad because there weren’t that many places to hide.

Keeping low, I hurried to the first door, but just as I reached it, the knob rattled from the other side, and my heart leapt into my throat as I realized someone was about to open the door right into me. Fiona pulled me back to the door across the hall, and we fell through without checking what might be on the other side. Thankfully, it took us into some kind of storage room full of large cardboard boxes and shelves of milk crates. I couldn’t tell what was in any of them in the dark.

Fiona flattened her ear against the door and listened. I could vaguely hear voices out in the hall, and it sounded like the footsteps receded toward the kitchen. She nudged the door open far enough to poke her nose out, paused for a beat, and then slipped out the rest of the way and crossed the hall to open the door I’d originally wanted. Dylan and I remained in the storage room until she made it safely across, then Dylan followed her, nipping through the door as she held it open. When it was my turn, I looked toward the kitchen. Two people stood just at the edge of the archway, their backs to me for the moment. Holding my breath, I crossed the hallway in three steps, guided into the next room by Dylan. The door closed behind me with a click louder than I would have preferred, but no one out in the hall demanded to know what that sound was.

The lights were off in the room, but Dylan had a penlight in his pocket that he shined around. We were in some kind of rec room with a television, couches, and mini fridge, but no computers. I shook my head and pointed toward the door. We had to keep moving.

I opened the door far enough to check on our friends in the kitchen again. I could no longer see them, but I could hear them talking about sandwich condiments. The three of us left the room quickly and darted to the next door in the order. I didn’t see a light on through the crack, nor did I hear anything when I listened at it, so we slunk inside before we could be caught out in the open.

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