Read Online Infected by Sophie Littlefield - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sophie Littlefield
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“street” was little more than an alley, cobblestones showing through cracked asphalt, laundry hanging high above them, stretching from one building to the other. Tanner took Carina’s hand as they threaded their way past people who were using the narrow street as a shortcut between the broad avenues.
Only some of the doors and tiny storefronts along the street were marked. Carina and Tanner nearly missed number 220, the faded, scratched gold numerals almost invisible on a pane of glass in a door that had been propped open. As they hesitated in front of the entrance, a gray blur raced from the dim interior onto the street. Carina bit down a gasp: she was pretty sure it was a rat.
Before she could change her mind, she pulled Tanner into the building. Inside was a tiny foyer lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Stained, torn red carpeting lined the floor, and peeling patterned wallpaper made the space seem even smaller. To the right was a hallway with four doors; to the left, a staircase.
“Apartment number 2E,” Carina said, more bravely than she felt. “Upstairs.”
The first step squeaked loudly, and she froze, praying no one would come out of the apartments. The best-case scenario was that they’d be stopped and forced to explain to curious neighbors why they had a key to the apartment; theworst case was much more dangerous: that this was some sort of trap and they were walking right into it.
But Carina couldn’t think of any other options.
Tanner stayed right behind her as they climbed. Another naked lightbulb lit the second floor, casting murky shadows down the hall. Three of the doors looked identical—filthy smudges around the brass doorknobs, paint peeling and faded, graffiti scratched here and there.
The fourth door, the one labeled 2E, was a little cleaner than the others, especially in the center, as though someone had started scrubbing it but got tired before working out to the edges. Carina stood in front of it, holding the key in her hand, trying to summon the courage to put it in the lock.
“I don’t know …,” she whispered.
Tanner pressed his ear against the door, frowning. “Nothing.”
He ran his fingers lightly over the surface. “Feel this,” he said softly, taking her hand and guiding her fingers across it. There was a faint ridge, invisible in the dim light and almost impossible to detect by touch. Carina slid her fingers along it; the ridge defined a six-inch-square area near the middle of the door, where the paint was slightly smoother.
“What do you think?” Tanner asked.
“I think … that there’s no way we’re going to figure out what’s going on if we don’t try the key. If it really was Walter who left it for me, he will have left an explanation on the other side of this door.”
“And if not?”
Carina shrugged, trying to project a confidence she didn’tfeel. “If not, well, we already beat them once, right? Just be ready to
run
.”
And with that she put the key in the lock and turned it.
The door didn’t open.
She twisted the knob, jimmying the key, but after a second Tanner put his hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said quietly. “Look at this.”
In the center of the door the edge of the offset square Carina had felt with her fingertips was now visible. As she watched, the almost-invisible gap widened to an eighth of an inch, then a quarter, accompanied by a faint electronic whine. A panel that had been painted to match the door was slowly sliding back, disappearing into the wood. Whatever was underneath the hollowed-out section faintly glowed.
“It’s a touch-screen panel,” Tanner muttered. As the section that had covered it slid the rest of the way into the door, it revealed a screen that was black except for a single sentence in the center:
The Count of Harewood bids you CHOOSE wisely .
“Oh wow,” Carina exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. “It really was him. Walter did this.”
“
The Count of Harewood?
Who
Only some of the doors and tiny storefronts along the street were marked. Carina and Tanner nearly missed number 220, the faded, scratched gold numerals almost invisible on a pane of glass in a door that had been propped open. As they hesitated in front of the entrance, a gray blur raced from the dim interior onto the street. Carina bit down a gasp: she was pretty sure it was a rat.
Before she could change her mind, she pulled Tanner into the building. Inside was a tiny foyer lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Stained, torn red carpeting lined the floor, and peeling patterned wallpaper made the space seem even smaller. To the right was a hallway with four doors; to the left, a staircase.
“Apartment number 2E,” Carina said, more bravely than she felt. “Upstairs.”
The first step squeaked loudly, and she froze, praying no one would come out of the apartments. The best-case scenario was that they’d be stopped and forced to explain to curious neighbors why they had a key to the apartment; theworst case was much more dangerous: that this was some sort of trap and they were walking right into it.
But Carina couldn’t think of any other options.
Tanner stayed right behind her as they climbed. Another naked lightbulb lit the second floor, casting murky shadows down the hall. Three of the doors looked identical—filthy smudges around the brass doorknobs, paint peeling and faded, graffiti scratched here and there.
The fourth door, the one labeled 2E, was a little cleaner than the others, especially in the center, as though someone had started scrubbing it but got tired before working out to the edges. Carina stood in front of it, holding the key in her hand, trying to summon the courage to put it in the lock.
“I don’t know …,” she whispered.
Tanner pressed his ear against the door, frowning. “Nothing.”
He ran his fingers lightly over the surface. “Feel this,” he said softly, taking her hand and guiding her fingers across it. There was a faint ridge, invisible in the dim light and almost impossible to detect by touch. Carina slid her fingers along it; the ridge defined a six-inch-square area near the middle of the door, where the paint was slightly smoother.
“What do you think?” Tanner asked.
“I think … that there’s no way we’re going to figure out what’s going on if we don’t try the key. If it really was Walter who left it for me, he will have left an explanation on the other side of this door.”
“And if not?”
Carina shrugged, trying to project a confidence she didn’tfeel. “If not, well, we already beat them once, right? Just be ready to
run
.”
And with that she put the key in the lock and turned it.
The door didn’t open.
She twisted the knob, jimmying the key, but after a second Tanner put his hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said quietly. “Look at this.”
In the center of the door the edge of the offset square Carina had felt with her fingertips was now visible. As she watched, the almost-invisible gap widened to an eighth of an inch, then a quarter, accompanied by a faint electronic whine. A panel that had been painted to match the door was slowly sliding back, disappearing into the wood. Whatever was underneath the hollowed-out section faintly glowed.
“It’s a touch-screen panel,” Tanner muttered. As the section that had covered it slid the rest of the way into the door, it revealed a screen that was black except for a single sentence in the center:
The Count of Harewood bids you CHOOSE wisely .
“Oh wow,” Carina exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand. “It really was him. Walter did this.”
“
The Count of Harewood?
Who
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