Page 95 of Afflicted


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to the living room where Demi was sitting looking out of the window. Chloe and Tara were curled up on the couch together, looking like they'd fallen asleep. Kristen lurked in a corner looking like she was hoping the wallpaper might swallow her.

“How much longer do we have to wait for your neighbour?” Demi asked impatiently as she spotted me. “I want to go home.”

“He told me to make sure you're all ready to leave,” I replied. “He's gunna take you to your houses if you still wanna go but he said we really need to head to the city. They're calling an evacua-“

“My mom and dad wouldn't just leave without me,” she replied with a sneer.

“But mine would?” I demanded, reading the implication in her tone.

“Well they did, didn't they?” she asked sweetly as she got to her feet. “I’m gunna go and wait outside for him to bring his truck round.”

I chose not to respond to her comment about my mom and dad. Arguing was about the last thing we needed and I really didn't fancy getting on Demi’s bad side.

Demi slid around me and headed for the door calling, “Shotgun!” Loud enough for everyone to hear her.

I bristled at the idea of her riding alone in the cab with Lincoln but there was nothing I could say to stop her. I let out a breath of irritation and turned my attention to waking Chloe and Tara.

As I touched Tara’s shoulder to rouse her, she let out a terrified scream, batting my hand away in horror.

I recoiled from her in surprise and Chloe wrestled her back down onto the couch before she could lunge at me again.

“It's me Tara,” I said reassuringly, holding my hands up to show her I wasn't a threat. “I'm sorry I woke you, we just need to get going.”

Tara stared at me with wide eyes while Chloe shushed her. Kristen hurried out of the room without a word.

“We’ll be ready in a moment,” Chloe replied for her. “Just leave it to me.”

I nodded vaguely and gave Tara a warm smile before leaving the room. After everything we'd been through in the last twenty four hours, I was just surprised that more of us weren't falling apart.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Lincoln

I hurried upstairs, pulling the satphone from my pocket. The signal was patchy but still enough to receive messages. There were none. After my fall in the river, I'd been worried it might have gotten damaged but it was too well made to let a bit of water bother it. With a sigh of irritation, I shoved it back away and moved along the landing.

I paused outside my parents’ bedroom, the old fear raising its head like a sleeping beast.

My hand closed on the hilt of the knife at my waist but I forced myself to release it. No ghost would force me to draw a weapon. Fear only had power if I gave in to it. With a flick of my wrist, the door flew open and banged against the wardrobe behind it.

I strolled into the room, ignoring the unmade bed and drawn curtains. He never would have stood for the place being so untidy. I guessed Diane had been enjoying the little freedoms allowed now. That unmade bed was like a broken chain. Pity she'd had to wait for him to die to get her freedom.

I opened the wardrobe and shoved his shirts aside. The stale stench of his aftershave sent my mouth dry but I ignored it. In the bottom of the closet was a safe. I knew the combination - his arrogance had allowed that much. He never thought I'd have the balls to open it without permission. And I guess he was right. Until now.

1234

I imagined that was the code the safe had come with when he'd bought it. Anyone else would realise it was a security risk not to change it but I doubted he was smart enough for that.

I pulled the door wide and removed a shotgun, four pistols and a revolver from the storage space inside. There was about two hundred dollars in cash too. I shoved the money in my pocket, wondering how long it had sat there.

There was no ammo in the safe but I rummaged in the bottom of the closet until I found an old shoebox which was way too heavy to contain shoes. I flipped the lid off and found a jumble of bullets and shotgun shells. I could only guess at why he'd chosen to take them out of their boxes and pile them in together but it didn't matter. I could match the bullets to the guns with no problem.

I took my hoard back out of the room, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as I crossed the threshold. Some things were never going to change.

I jogged down the stairs and dumped the shoebox and guns on the dining table.

I couldn't wait any longer to hear from Kai so I dialled his number on the satphone and put it on speaker.

My dad may have been the kind of slack-jawed asshole to fill his closet with guns but I doubted he had ever spent much time maintaining them. There were plenty of times that I'd seen him carrying one of the pistols in his waistband or even just sitting with it in his lap. But I couldn't remember ever seeing him cleaning any of them.

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