was probably lurking in a grove of trees, watching the cottage, laughing his ass off. No, Noah wouldn’t be laughing. He was too much of a masochist for that.
Franny tugged her hand free of Eli’s. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” She turned and hurried back the way they’d come, their swiftly moving footsteps slapping the floor, echoing loudly in the emptiness.
Through the cafeteria and down the hallway, to the double doors. With Eli on her heels, she threw her weight against the door.
And hurt herself. Owww .
The door didn’t budge.
She tried the other one, pressing down hard on the metal bar. Locked. Eli tried, with no better results.
Her heart was slamming now. “We have to find another way out.”
They turned and hurried back through the cafeteria of Cottage 25. Another set of doors led to another hall, then a ramped, linoleum-covered incline.
“We’re going down,” Eli said. “We don’t wanna go down.”
They stopped to catch their breath.
“Maybe we can find an emergency exit,” Franny said.
Eli checked out the surroundings, the beam of his flashlight bouncing off metal heating ducts and clusters of rusty pipes. “You’ve heard about that girl, haven’t you?” he asked. “The mental patient? The one who died in this building years ago?”
“Stop it.”
They hadn’t yet thrown themselves into each other’s arms. They hadn’t clutched each other in fear. For Eli, this was probably like taking a girl to see a horror movie, only better.
“You know the one I’m talking about?” he asked, wandering away. “The patient who hid down here somewhere until she died?”
“They didn’t find her body for six months.” Franny could play this game too. “That’s what I heard.”
Maybe they should start shouting for help. Maybe Arden would hear them. Even if she didn’t, she would surely become concerned when they didn’t return.
She would find the night watchman and he would let them out.
Right now, Franny would love to see the night watchman. “I heard she was dead for so long,” Franny said, “that her decomposing body left an imprint on the cement.”
“Hey—a door!” Eli shouted.
Franny turned and hurried toward him, her flashlight beam bouncing.
A windowless door painted over in layers of thick black enamel.
“It’s probably just a closet.” A smothering sensation washed over her. “Come on. Let’s go back the way we came.”
“You know what I’ll bet?” Eli ran his flashlight up and down the door. “I’ll bet this is the old morgue.”
He didn’t know that.
“Stop it, Eli.”
No way could he know that.
“Wait.” He stepped closer. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”
A tingly feeling moved up the back of her neck and across her scalp. “We need to get out of here,” she said. “We need to get out of here now .”
*
How much time had passed? Arden wondered.
It seemed like a long time.
Had it been a long time?
This was stupid. She was freezing. Her skin was beginning to feel tight and dehydrated. Her eyeballs burned. Sleep suddenly seemed very desirable.
And here she was, standing outside Cottage 25 in the middle of the night, while her new buddies raided the place. What would it be next? Pranks with toilet paper and shaving cream?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
A week ago, if someone had asked her to name the last place on earth she’d want to be, the Hill would have been her response.
But then, did you ever reach a point when things felt right? When you said, This is where I’m supposed to be at this minute? This period in time ? Did that ever happen?
They’d been gone a long time.
She was pretty sure of it.
Two choices: Go after them, or find the night watchman.
Even though the situation had escalated into something extremely annoying, she didn’t want to get anybody in trouble.
Jeesus.
No flashlight. Black as hell.
She slid her feet along the cement steps, feeling for the edges as she descended. Five steps down and a
Franny tugged her hand free of Eli’s. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” She turned and hurried back the way they’d come, their swiftly moving footsteps slapping the floor, echoing loudly in the emptiness.
Through the cafeteria and down the hallway, to the double doors. With Eli on her heels, she threw her weight against the door.
And hurt herself. Owww .
The door didn’t budge.
She tried the other one, pressing down hard on the metal bar. Locked. Eli tried, with no better results.
Her heart was slamming now. “We have to find another way out.”
They turned and hurried back through the cafeteria of Cottage 25. Another set of doors led to another hall, then a ramped, linoleum-covered incline.
“We’re going down,” Eli said. “We don’t wanna go down.”
They stopped to catch their breath.
“Maybe we can find an emergency exit,” Franny said.
Eli checked out the surroundings, the beam of his flashlight bouncing off metal heating ducts and clusters of rusty pipes. “You’ve heard about that girl, haven’t you?” he asked. “The mental patient? The one who died in this building years ago?”
“Stop it.”
They hadn’t yet thrown themselves into each other’s arms. They hadn’t clutched each other in fear. For Eli, this was probably like taking a girl to see a horror movie, only better.
“You know the one I’m talking about?” he asked, wandering away. “The patient who hid down here somewhere until she died?”
“They didn’t find her body for six months.” Franny could play this game too. “That’s what I heard.”
Maybe they should start shouting for help. Maybe Arden would hear them. Even if she didn’t, she would surely become concerned when they didn’t return.
She would find the night watchman and he would let them out.
Right now, Franny would love to see the night watchman. “I heard she was dead for so long,” Franny said, “that her decomposing body left an imprint on the cement.”
“Hey—a door!” Eli shouted.
Franny turned and hurried toward him, her flashlight beam bouncing.
A windowless door painted over in layers of thick black enamel.
“It’s probably just a closet.” A smothering sensation washed over her. “Come on. Let’s go back the way we came.”
“You know what I’ll bet?” Eli ran his flashlight up and down the door. “I’ll bet this is the old morgue.”
He didn’t know that.
“Stop it, Eli.”
No way could he know that.
“Wait.” He stepped closer. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”
A tingly feeling moved up the back of her neck and across her scalp. “We need to get out of here,” she said. “We need to get out of here now .”
*
How much time had passed? Arden wondered.
It seemed like a long time.
Had it been a long time?
This was stupid. She was freezing. Her skin was beginning to feel tight and dehydrated. Her eyeballs burned. Sleep suddenly seemed very desirable.
And here she was, standing outside Cottage 25 in the middle of the night, while her new buddies raided the place. What would it be next? Pranks with toilet paper and shaving cream?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
A week ago, if someone had asked her to name the last place on earth she’d want to be, the Hill would have been her response.
But then, did you ever reach a point when things felt right? When you said, This is where I’m supposed to be at this minute? This period in time ? Did that ever happen?
They’d been gone a long time.
She was pretty sure of it.
Two choices: Go after them, or find the night watchman.
Even though the situation had escalated into something extremely annoying, she didn’t want to get anybody in trouble.
Jeesus.
No flashlight. Black as hell.
She slid her feet along the cement steps, feeling for the edges as she descended. Five steps down and a
Similar Books
