What Stalks Among Us by Sarah Hollowell

Author:Sarah Hollowell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

“Good thing I just ended up covered in mud, then,” I say weakly.

“Definitely.” Helena looks from me to Logan and back. “Let’s keep walking.”

I trail behind, not feeling up to pushing myself to keep pace with them. As we walk, I try to wipe some of the mud off my arms, then shake the clumps off my hand onto the ground.

When my hand slides over a weird, long bump on my arm, I don’t think much of it. Just drying mud. Until I keep rubbing at my skin and it doesn’t go away. I turn my full attention to that area on my upper arm until most of the mud there is gone.

But the lump is still there.

I stop walking. It’s absurd, but all I can think is that it looks like there’s a power cord under my skin. It’s a kind of long, narrow shape, pressing into the skin of my arm from the inside. Trying to escape.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

“What is it?” Logan asks. I look up. He and Helena stopped ahead and now Logan’s crossing the few extra feet that they’d walked before noticing I wasn’t with them.

“I don’t—it’s . . .” I turn myself a little so he can see my upper arm. He stares at it blankly. I look at the spot again, and it’s gone. That vein-like bump is gone, and all I’m showing Logan is a muddy arm.

“It’s nothing,” I say finally. “Thought there was something stuck to the mud.”

“Are you okay?” Helena asks. She’s still ahead of us.

“I’m good! Let’s keep going,” I say. When Logan gives me a questioning glance, I smile and nod. Good to go.

Helena is less talkative after the mud incident. When we reach two different splits in the path, she doesn’t consult us on which way we should go. She just chooses, and we follow.

In the next room we enter, my first impression is the overwhelming smell of artificial butter on movie theater popcorn. Red curtains that seem to go right into the sky block out the rest of the room. There’s a slim opening in the center, and beyond that, the flashing lights of a movie.

Helena slips through the curtains without hesitation. I make to follow when Logan grabs my hand.

“Wait,” he says. He’s staring at the towering red curtains with wide eyes and a mouth set in a grim line. “I don’t . . .”

When he doesn’t continue, I say, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I know this place.”

Even as the words “How could you?” come out of my mouth, a voice in my head taunts, A room just for you. Dread coils in my stomach, and I don’t know why.

“I shouldn’t,” Logan agrees. “It shouldn’t be here.” He drops my hand, approaching the curtains. “But I know it.” He walks through, with me close behind.

Helena’s waiting for us just inside. Rows of movie theater chairs stretch out in front of us. They’re old-fashioned. Not the smooth, cushy reclining kind common in theaters now, but seats with red fabric cushions that don’t really offer cushion.

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