Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“I think she’s alone,” Rocky tells him and Nova, then shines the light on Jake.
He’s trying to power up the torch to cut through the steel. The flame flickers in and out. “Come on,” Jake mutters. “Come on.”
My pulse is a wave of highs and lows.
The fire dies. It goes completely out.
“Fuck,” Jake curses, his brows knotting. He bangs the battery pack. Nothing. “It must be dead. I checked it before I left. I thought it was working.”
“Where’s Trevor?” Rocky asks, since he’s the one who could likely tinker with and fix it.
I check the phone. “He hasn’t responded.”
Nova hurries over to Jake and tries to help light the torch.
I kneel in front of the storm shelter. Gun in my hand. I don’t know if Rocky is right, but I just plead, “Hailey, please, open this door. Please.”
Sobs come from the other side, and I take a deep, shaky breath. “Hailey, I love you. We all love you. You’re our everything. We-we can’t do this without you, okay? We just can’t.”
She cries harder.
My eyes pinch closed. We could be wrong. Varrick. He’s probably grinning down there, taking sick joy in our torment. That’s what this is. He’s getting off on our distress. “If someone else is there,” I call out, venom dripping off my voice, “then open this door and meet us face-to-face, you fucking coward!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “YOU FUCKING PIECE OF—”
The lock clicks.
I let out a surprised gasp, and Rocky drags me away from the door. I stumble back into his chest, and he pulls me behind him.
He flicks the safety off his gun. “I go first.”
Armed myself, I try to go second, but Nova shoves me behind him, too. Then Oliver tears forward, beyond me, and Jake places a soft, gentle hand on my shoulder. He goes out ahead of me.
Nova and Jake heave the doors open.
Rocky disappears.
Everyone follows, and I’m last down the creaky old wooden steps. Descending into a dark, damp space that smells like mildew and earth.
It’s pitch black. Except for the flashlight Rocky beams into the shelter. He swings it left and right. I see a bunk bed. Shelves of dusty canned goods. Beanee Weenees, Spam, SpaghettiOs.
“Hailey!” we all say.
It’s utterly silent.
Jake must know where the switch is, because he puts a hand to the wall—and the small space is instantly bathed in dim yellow light. The bunker isn’t any bigger than a wine cellar, and Hailey huddles in the grimy corner near the staircase.
I rush to her before anyone else can, dropping to my knees at her side. “Hails.”
She’s shaking, trembling. Leaves and twigs knot and tangle in her hair like she’s been lost in the woods, and buttons are popped on her dirtied white blouse, exposing her black bra. Her cheeks are scratched, from branches maybe.
She’s hugging her legs to her chest.
“Is there anyone else in here?” I glance over my shoulder. All four men linger and tower behind me, no longer searching the small shelter. The answer already rings in my ears. I see it on their troubled faces.
“No,” Rocky says, taking my gun from me. “She’s been alone.”
I swallow hard and focus on my best friend. “Hailey? Can you look at me?”
She mutters incoherently, her eyes wide and horrified.
“It’s me. It’s Phoebe.” I risk touching her fingers. She lets me pry them off her legs, and I gather her hands in mine.
I lean a little closer. “What are you saying?”
“He’s here…he’s here,” she mumbles. “I followed him, and then he followed me.”
“Who were you following?”
“Olly,” she cries with a contorted, ugly sob. Oliver squats beside her, but she’s still not focused on us. “I followed him here. He went in here.”
“I wasn’t on the grounds,” Oliver whispers to her. “I was on a balcony.”
“He followed me.”
“Yes, I followed you, Hailstorm.” He tries to steady his voice with hope and light. “I found you.”
Her eyes bug out. “I-I need to tell him…I have to tell him…” She rips her hands out of mine and clutches her head. “No! No! No!” She shrieks, the bloodcurdling shriek again.
“Hailey! You’re okay!” I shout. “No one is here!”
She’s kicking out like we’re going to kill her. She digs her back into the cement wall. “No, no, no! STOP! NO!”
“She’s hallucinating,” Jake says in a deep, tight breath.
Rocky lets out a sandpapery noise. “She followed a figment of Oliver to the storm shelter.”
Nova ascends the stairs, his backpack strapped to his shoulders again. He stops mid-step to keep an eye outside.
“But why?” I ask them.
“She had to tell Oliver something,” Jake says, concentrated on her. “That’s what she just said. She wanted to tell him something.”
“Hailey?” I snap my fingers in front of her face. “Hailey.”
She rolls her head back and forth.
“ ‘In a kingdom by the sea,’ ” Jake breathes, and she goes still. For the first time, her big round gray eyes rise.