Chapter 5 - The Hand in the Dark
The boy let out a terrified gasp, tripping forward and sprawling hard onto the hardwood floor right at the edge of the bed. Before he could scream, I slid halfway out from the dusty crawl space, my hand clamped firmly over his mouth, my eyes wide and pleading in the dim light.
“Shh! Don't make a sound! It’s me—it’s Maya’s mom!” I hissed against his ear, releasing my grip just enough for him to breathe.
Leo’s eyes blew wide with absolute horror. He stared at me as if I were a ghost rising from a tomb, his chest heaving under his dirty t-shirt. Behind him, little Chloe huddled in the corner, clamping both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out.
“Mrs... Mrs. Jenkins?” Leo choked out, his voice trembling so violently he could barely form the syllables.
“Listen to me very carefully,” I whispered, my voice steeling itself with a terrifying, cold resolve that surprised even me. I glanced toward the hallway, where the man’s heavy boots were shifting, moving closer to the bedroom door. “How many of them are there?”
“Just... just him,” Leo whispered back, tears springing to his eyes. “He tracked us from the shelter downtown. He found our stash.”
A sharp, cruel laugh drifted down the hall from the kitchen.
“Come on out, little runaways,” the man called out, his boots stepping onto the edge of the bedroom rug. “Daddy’s here to take you back home, and trust me... you don't want to make this difficult for your little friend Maya here.”
The shadow of a thick, heavy-set man stretched across the doorway, blocking out the light. In his right hand, the dull metallic gleam of a hunting knife caught the afternoon sun.
May you like
My hand slipped back beneath the bed, my fingers closing around a heavy iron bookend Maya had left tucked against the baseboard.
The floorboards creaked as the boots stepped fully into the room.
