them.
Heading back outside, she grabbed the chain and lock from the ground and dragged them back into the barn. Next, she pulled the doors closed, yanking hard when the right one caught on a stone. That intruding beam of sunlight winked out, but others were springing up as the sun rose in the sky. She eyed the chain. It wasn’t much in the way of security, and certainly not against creatures that could catch an SUV traveling at full speed, but it couldn’t hurt to chain the door. The thick, heavy links kept kinking up as she threaded the chain through the handles, but at last she was done and slid the lock through several of the metal loops. Though it wouldn’t latch, the lock would help keep the chain in place. The right door handle sagged as she let the chain go. Hopefully it wouldn’t rip out under the weight. The chain that had looked so substantial before now appeared woefully inadequate as it dangled lopsidedly between the rusted handles. Wiping her hands down her jeans, she sighed. It was going to have to do. She headed for the box.
Slade slung his long legs out of the car. “Hey.”
Stepping over his scuffed boots, she avoided his hand and ordered, “Just stay there a minute.”
Before she dragged him through the trail of sunbeams, she needed to check to see if he was going to fit. The metal lid of the box opened with a groan worthy of a horror movie. Perfect. Just perfect. Now she had ambiance to go with the terror wending through her bones.
Inside there were a couple of dead spiders and a few leftover oats. And rust. All in all, if she was looking for a positive sign, this could be it. That was a plus. She’d been dreading a Willard moment, with rats pouring out as she opened the lid. Dead spiders she could handle. Rats, not so much. She left the lid open and went back to the car.
Slade was waiting, but she didn’t flash the light on this face. She didn’t want to. One, she hadn’t been lying about the weak stomach, and two, the horror-movie analogy wouldn’t leave her brain. Slade hadn’t shown any blood-sucking tendencies, but if this were a horror movie, now would be the moment where it all went bad. He had her trust; she was trying to help him. In any decent horror movie, it was time for the kill shot.
“C’mon.”
There was a long pause, then the rustle of clothing against the seat back, and a groan. She slipped her shoulder under his arm.
“News flash—now is the wrong time to faint.”
“I never faint.”
“Pardon me. Get weak at the knees.”
“I don’t do that, either.”
Lord, he was heavy. “What do you consider the proper terminology for a man about to pass out?”
“Men don’t pass out.”
“Then we’ll go with mine. Don’t pick now to faint. We need to get twenty feet, to the box, before you can pass out.” He grunted. “Can you make it?”
He stood, swayed, his height taking him past her ability to support. “I’ll make it.”
If sheer determination was a guarantee, she’d bet he would. Unfortunately, she had a bird’s-eye view of his face. Ghosts had more color.
She took an involuntary step backward as he leaned forward. He placed his palm on the SUV “Don’t worry. I’m not lusting for your blood.”
“I didn’t think you were.” The shiver that went down her spine made a liar out of her. She took another step backward.
“Sure you were. That’s why you keep stepping away.”
“Maybe I’m just afraid you’ll fall on top of me and squash me flat.”
“I wouldn’t squish you, sweetness.”
Sweetness . Why did he keep calling her that? She flashed the light in his face. His eyes burned back at her—an icy gray. Funny, she’d thought they were more green than gray before. Light played unmercifully across his horribly burned face. Her stomach turned. The left half was worse than the rest. His eyes closed as he took slow, even breaths. Oh God , he looked near death. “I can’t catch you if you faint.”
“Already told you, men don’t
Heading back outside, she grabbed the chain and lock from the ground and dragged them back into the barn. Next, she pulled the doors closed, yanking hard when the right one caught on a stone. That intruding beam of sunlight winked out, but others were springing up as the sun rose in the sky. She eyed the chain. It wasn’t much in the way of security, and certainly not against creatures that could catch an SUV traveling at full speed, but it couldn’t hurt to chain the door. The thick, heavy links kept kinking up as she threaded the chain through the handles, but at last she was done and slid the lock through several of the metal loops. Though it wouldn’t latch, the lock would help keep the chain in place. The right door handle sagged as she let the chain go. Hopefully it wouldn’t rip out under the weight. The chain that had looked so substantial before now appeared woefully inadequate as it dangled lopsidedly between the rusted handles. Wiping her hands down her jeans, she sighed. It was going to have to do. She headed for the box.
Slade slung his long legs out of the car. “Hey.”
Stepping over his scuffed boots, she avoided his hand and ordered, “Just stay there a minute.”
Before she dragged him through the trail of sunbeams, she needed to check to see if he was going to fit. The metal lid of the box opened with a groan worthy of a horror movie. Perfect. Just perfect. Now she had ambiance to go with the terror wending through her bones.
Inside there were a couple of dead spiders and a few leftover oats. And rust. All in all, if she was looking for a positive sign, this could be it. That was a plus. She’d been dreading a Willard moment, with rats pouring out as she opened the lid. Dead spiders she could handle. Rats, not so much. She left the lid open and went back to the car.
Slade was waiting, but she didn’t flash the light on this face. She didn’t want to. One, she hadn’t been lying about the weak stomach, and two, the horror-movie analogy wouldn’t leave her brain. Slade hadn’t shown any blood-sucking tendencies, but if this were a horror movie, now would be the moment where it all went bad. He had her trust; she was trying to help him. In any decent horror movie, it was time for the kill shot.
“C’mon.”
There was a long pause, then the rustle of clothing against the seat back, and a groan. She slipped her shoulder under his arm.
“News flash—now is the wrong time to faint.”
“I never faint.”
“Pardon me. Get weak at the knees.”
“I don’t do that, either.”
Lord, he was heavy. “What do you consider the proper terminology for a man about to pass out?”
“Men don’t pass out.”
“Then we’ll go with mine. Don’t pick now to faint. We need to get twenty feet, to the box, before you can pass out.” He grunted. “Can you make it?”
He stood, swayed, his height taking him past her ability to support. “I’ll make it.”
If sheer determination was a guarantee, she’d bet he would. Unfortunately, she had a bird’s-eye view of his face. Ghosts had more color.
She took an involuntary step backward as he leaned forward. He placed his palm on the SUV “Don’t worry. I’m not lusting for your blood.”
“I didn’t think you were.” The shiver that went down her spine made a liar out of her. She took another step backward.
“Sure you were. That’s why you keep stepping away.”
“Maybe I’m just afraid you’ll fall on top of me and squash me flat.”
“I wouldn’t squish you, sweetness.”
Sweetness . Why did he keep calling her that? She flashed the light in his face. His eyes burned back at her—an icy gray. Funny, she’d thought they were more green than gray before. Light played unmercifully across his horribly burned face. Her stomach turned. The left half was worse than the rest. His eyes closed as he took slow, even breaths. Oh God , he looked near death. “I can’t catch you if you faint.”
“Already told you, men don’t
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