House of Steel by Raen Smith Read Free Book Online

her lids close. The lights were on a
generator. No power. No phones. Man in a ski mask. Warehouse in
the middle of nowhere. Whiteout.
    She crept toward the door, still clutching
her bag, as she looked around for a sharp object. Settle down,
Delaney. The phone’s old. It may not be working anyway. She
envisioned a masked man with black leather gloves, cutting the
wires, scissors still in his hand as he smiled. Shaking her head at
the thought, she exhaled and moved into the other office, her back
running against the wall for safe measure. The room was
fractionally larger. Most likely Joe’s office with the same old
office furniture. She picked up the cordless phone, sparking an
idle hope that the phone purchased within the last decade would
produce the familiar hum. She pressed the call button and was
rewarded with a dial tone.
    “Hello?”
    “Mark.” The sound of his voice rushed a
swell of relief through Delaney’s body.
    “Tell me you’re not driving,” Mark answered
her call.
    “I’m not,” she replied.
    “Good.”
    “Well, it’s not exactly good. I’m not
driving because my car’s in the ditch.”
    “God, Delaney,” Mark said. She waited. “Are
you okay?”
    “Yes, I’m okay, asshole, but I need you to
pick me up. I’m at a body shop in the middle of nowhere. A guy
named Joe picked me up with his tow truck and brought me to his
shop,” Delaney replied.
    “Yeah, I’ll come get you. What’s the
address?” Mark asked.
    Delaney picked up an invoice on the desk,
scanning the content for an address. “927 Parker Drive. Lomira.
Wherever the hell that is,” she said.
    “I’ll be there in two hours. Don’t go
anywhere,” he joked.
    “Funny. By the way, my phone is dead so call
this number back if you need me. And please spare me, don’t tell
Dad.”
    “Delaney?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You there alone?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Be safe.” Mark hung up before she could say
thanks.
    Delaney sighed, setting the phone back down
on the charger. Her stomach rolled as she looked up at the plastic
clock hanging on the wall. 12:13 p.m. She fished a crinkled
dollar bill out of her wallet and headed out to the vending machine
in the waiting area to locate the last bag of M&Ms in the
near-empty machine. She watched as the candy landed with a clank on
the bottom. As her hand fumbled around the bottom of the tray, a
soft ball of fur brushed against her fingertips. She recoiled,
letting out a scream.
    “MEOW.” The animal’s screech pierced the
waiting room as a small head with glassy eyes appeared from the
tray. The cat hopped out of the vending machine, stretching its
legs while keeping an eye on her intruder.
    “Jesus,” Delaney said to the calico cat as
it left small smudges of grease on the floor. Delaney nudged the
cat with her leg as it rubbed against her jeans. A dangling silver
ID tag gleamed from its neck.
    “Parker, huh?” Delaney said. She replayed
her motions, opening the black door of the vending machine, but
peered in to scope out the bottom tray before she placed her hand
back in to retrieve the M&Ms. As she tore open the top of the
bag, she noticed a door of blackened glass that, she assumed, led
to the warehouse. She put her hand on the cool metal handle and
pushed down. Locked.
    “What’s back there?” She spoke to fill the
hum, attempting to calm her nerves. Yet, the voice she had directed
at the cat fell flat in the stale air. She turned around to an
empty spot on the dingy linoleum; the cat was gone. The slight buzz
of the lights and vending machine filled the otherwise silent
space.
    Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she
stepped back to Joe’s office and the only window in the cramped
warehouse space. The flurry of white outside had cast a bright
reflection into the room, making it the least offensive place for
Delaney to wait. The dismal view outside settled into her stomach.
It would be awhile. Her eyes scanned the rest of the walls.
Crowning achievements of certificates, licenses