“Who bought this house?” I ask Landon.
I hear him laugh behind me, so I turn around. He sees that I lack humor in this situation, so he rolls his head.
“Come on, Silas. Drop the act, already. You know who bought the house.”
I breathe steadily in through my nose and out my mouth, reminding myself that I can’t blame him for thinking I’m making all of this up. I nod and then turn to face the gate again. “Humor me, Landon.”
I can hear him kick at the gravel and groan. And then he says, “Janice Delacroix.”
The name means nothing to me, but I walk back to my truck and open the door to make a note of the name. “Delacroix. Is that a French name?”
“Yeah,” he says. “She owns one of those tourist shops downtown. Reads tarots or some shit like that. No one knows how she was able to afford the place. Her daughter goes to our school.”
I stop writing. The tarot reader. That explains the picture, and also why she wouldn’t give me more information on the house—because it seemed weird to her that I was asking about her home.
“So people actually live here?” I say, turning around to face him.
He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s just the two of them though—her and her daughter. They probably use a different entrance. Doesn’t look like this gate gets opened much.”
I stare past the gate…at the house. “What’s her daughter’s name?”
“Cora,” he says. “Cora Delacroix. But everyone calls her The Shrimp.”
Chapter 16: Charlie
No one comes for a long time. I think I’m being punished. I’m thirsty and I need to go to the bathroom. After holding it as long as I can, I finally pee in the plastic cup on my breakfast tray and set the full cup in the corner of the room. I pace back and forth, pulling at my hair until I think I’m going to go crazy.
What if no one comes back? What if they’ve left me here to die?
The door won’t budge; I bruise my fists pounding on it. I scream for someone to help me until my voice grows hoarse.
I’m sitting on the floor with my head in my hands when the door finally opens. I jump up. It’s not the nurse—it’s someone else this time, younger. Her scrubs hang off her small body. She looks like a little kid playing dress-up. I eye her warily as she moves across my small room. She notices the cup in the corner and raises her eyebrows.
“Do you need to use the facilities?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She sets the tray down and my stomach grumbles.
“I asked to see the doctor,” I say.
Her eyes dart left to right. She’s nervous. Why?
“The doctor is busy today,” she says, not looking at me.
“Where is the other nurse?”
“It’s her day off,” she says. I can smell the food. I am so hungry.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say. “Can you take me?”
She nods her head, but she looks afraid of me. I follow her out of the little room and into the small hallway. What kind of hospital has the toilets in a separate area from their patients’ rooms? She stands off to the side while I use the restroom, wringing her hands and turning an awful shade of pink.
When I’m finished, she makes the mistake of turning toward the door. When she opens it, I pull the piece of pipe from my hospital gown and hold it toward her neck.
She faces me again and her beady eyes grow wide with fear.
“Drop the keys and back up slowly,” I say. “Or I’ll stick this straight in your throat.”
She nods. The keys clank against the ground, and I advance toward her, my weapon extended toward her neck. I push her backward, into the room, and shove her down on the bed. She falls back and cries out.
Then I’m out the door, taking the keys with me. I pull the door shut as she flies toward it, her mouth open in a scream. We struggle for a moment, her trying to yank it open while I get the key into the lock and hear the metal click.
My hands are shaking as I sort through the keys, trying to find the right one to open the next door. I don’t really know what to expect when I step through. A hospital hallway, nurses and doctors? Will someone be there to drag me back to that tiny room?
No.
There’s no way I’m going back. I’ll hurt anyone who tries to stop me from getting out of here.
I don’t see a hospital or staff or anyone else when I open the door. What I see instead is a very impressive wine cellar. Dusty bottles sit in hundreds of little holes. It smells of ferment and dirt. A staircase runs up one side of the cellar. There is a door at the top.
I run for the stairs, stubbing my toe hard on the concrete and feeling the wet blood run over my foot. I almost slip on it, but I catch onto the railing in time.
The top of the stairs opens to a kitchen, a single light illuminating the counters and floors. I don’t pause to look around. I need to find…a door! I grab the handle, and this time it’s not locked. I cry out in triumph as it flies open. The night air hits me in the face. I breathe it in gratefully.
Then I run.
Chapter 17: Silas
“You can’t trespass, Silas!” Landon yells.
I’m trying to scale the gate, but my foot keeps slipping. “Help me over,” I yell down to him.
He walks up to me and offers his hands, palms up, despite the fact that he’s still verbally trying to stop me from climbing over. I step into his hands and he hoists me higher, allowing me to grab the bars toward the top of the gate.