Out of the Dark: An apocalyptic thriller by Ashlei Hawley Read Free Book Online Page B

parents who had raised them.
         “I know that you’re a good kid,” Sam told Austin, rousing a tired smile from the teen. “Fifteen minutes,” he reminded as he pointed to the clock and then stepped out of the vehicle.
         The young woman was standing next to the car, staring blankly at the home Sam assumed was hers. She still tightly gripped the bitty blanket and Sam wanted to tear it from her hand. Instead, he rubbed her arms briskly, trying to bring her focus back to the present time and current location.
         “Hey, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? What happened in there that makes you not want to go back in?”
         She didn’t answer at first, and Sam continued rubbing the frigid skin of her upper arms. He could feel the chill through her thin night clothes and disliked it. Being in shock was as hard on a body as it was healthy-for the short term, at least-on the mind.
         “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” Sam insisted gently. “I want to help, but I want to know what I’m walking into, as well. Do you understand, honey?”
         “My baby,” the young woman whispered again, and Sam judged her age by her voice to be barely under twenty. She seemed even younger than that, but trauma probably played its part in causing that impression.
         Tears sprang to those pale blue eyes and slipped down her porcelain cheeks. She looked like a pretty doll, full of emotion but void of life.
         “What happened to your baby, sweetheart?” Sam pressed as he continued to rub her chilled skin.
         “My baby…can you help my baby?”
         She locked eyes with Sam, fixing him with a desperate stare that held more of her than her previous expressions had.
         “Can you help my baby?”
         Sam sighed and gave a quick nod. “Is there anyone else in the house?” he asked, because he was trained to and a habit like that had a way of sticking.
         Before the young woman had finished saying, “my baby,” again, Sam was moving toward the cracked front door. A wellspring of information the traumatized young mother was not, and Sam felt he’d wasted enough time trying to get anything useful out of her.
         “Where’s the baby’s room, sweetheart?” Sam asked as they entered the unnatural stillness of the house.
         “The…” Trailing off, the young woman merely pointed in a direction and Sam moved the way her finger was aimed.
         He passed a kitchen on his right; a closed door he assumed was a pantry or bathroom on his left. In the back was a laundry room, and attached to this was a hallway that branched to the left. Down this hallway, Sam passed an open door-empty bathroom, he saw-and then approached the last door to his left. This one was closed, and Sam assumed it was the young woman’s bedroom.
         On the quick trek through the house, Sam had gotten the feel of a much older presence, and figured the young woman was a single mother living with her parents. Multiple pairs of shoes by the front door, a man’s jacket draped on one of the kitchen chairs, family pictures on the walls and several other small indicators had brought Sam to his conclusion. It made him wonder where the young woman’s parents were.
         The door was closed, and Sam hesitated before opening it. The young woman gasped quietly when he put his hand out to touch the knob, and made a sound of pain low in her throat when he turned it. Neither reaction helped to lower Sam’s sense of unease.
         When Sam eased the door open, it didn’t cast any revealing light on the interior of the room. The hallway was dark, having no windows and no lights on, and the inside of the room was cloaked in shadows thanks to black out curtains. Without the lights on inside the bedroom, it was like stepping into the mouth of a cave and not knowing if the first few feet would drop you into