At the end the “r-d” were crooked as they were written over a crack. Something had dripped. Blood, she thought with a shiver.
The dust and grime were thick; how long would the words last? Weeks? Months? Had someone been trapped here during a hurricane? Had they died here? Was there a ghost?
“Oh for shit’s sake,” she muttered.
“Kara? You okay?”
“My imagination is working in overdrive.” She stood, every joint in her body creaking. “When we get out of here, I want to soak in a very hot bubble bath.”
“I’ll join you,” he said.
“Look at the mirror.”
“I saw it.”
She walked to the sink and tried the handles.
Nothing.
“It was worth a shot,” Matt said. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “Physically? Other than a whopper of a headache and a sore shoulder and bruises in odd places, I’m fine. I just really hate feeling trapped where everything is out of my control.” She glanced at his leg and frowned. “Are you bleeding?” She squatted to inspect his injury. “Shit, Matt! This is bad.”
He looked down at the surprisingly large dark stain on his ankle. “From the stairs.”
She rolled up the leg of his sweats. He suppressed a moan when the material brushed against the cut.
“This is a deep cut.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s still bleeding.” She looked around but saw nothing they could use to put pressure on it. “There’s gotta be something around here.” She started to take off her tank, but he stopped her.
“I don’t need your shirt.”
“I’m wearing a sports bra.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well just keep it on for now. Down the hall there are some doors. Maybe we’ll find something to bandage it up. But getting out of here is our first priority.”
She didn’t like the look of the cut, but he was right. She glanced down the hall. Junk littered the floor. A couple broken chairs, a file cabinet, a lot of paper strewn about. But the center of the hall was mostly clear, as if someone had walked through and pushed stuff up against the wall.
Maybe the person who cut their finger on the broken mirror.
The building wasn’t completely silent. Matt was right, there was a faint electric hum. That had to be a good thing, right?
“We stay together,” Matt said.
“No argument from me,” Kara said.
Cautiously, they walked down the hall. Matt picked up a folder that was wedged between trash and an upside-down chair. Dirt fell from the front. He opened it; the pages were swollen from moisture. “Look,” he said and turned the file to Kara.
“A cannery?” There must be farms in the area. Which meant lots of land and few people.
“Look at the bottom,” Matt said.
Kara scanned the faded ink. “Georgia. We’re inGeorgia?”
Matt dropped the folder. “The resort is less than two hours from the border. Catherine said Reid would have a secondary location, and a place like this would fit. Remote, isolated, empty.”
