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Chapter 25
Addie
We stopped at the front entrance, I looked in one direction and Ryder another. The forest was still. Silent.
I had not noticed our surroundings when I was confined within the house, but we appeared to be in a stretch of woods. Only the house broke through the endless canvas of trees that stretched out in all directions.
I waited, breath held, but could hear nothing besides the scuttling of animals and the crackle of fallen leaves.
“I think we’re clear,” I whispered to Ryder, and he nodded.
Still on guard, we ran the short distance to the truck Liz must’ve transported us in. The paint was fading and beginning to rust in places, but it would have to do.
I had no idea how far away we were from the guys. From any civilization, if I was being honest with myself. How long had I been unconscious?
Hours? Minutes?
The terrain was unfamiliar to both me and Ryder. After a quick search through the glove compartment and dashboard, I found a map. It was crinkled, repeated use wearing and yellowing the paper in certain areas, but it would have to do.
Ryder recited off the address of our prison. The house wasn’t Liz’s, I realized. She must’ve raided it and claimed it as her own some time recently. Probably the same time we arrived at Elena’s.
“We have to get onto Cherry Street,” Ryder said, tracing a road with his finger.
“Direct me where to go,” I instructed, sliding into the driver’s seat. I couldn’t remember the last time I had driven. Pathetic, I know. For years, I had relied on drivers to get me to and from any locations I wished to go to. Of course, I didn’t have a lot of options. The line was rather short for the whole “hang out with Adelaide” ride, and I had no reason to travel to any store. I had all of my clothes and food delivered directly to my room.
Sticking the keys into the ignition, I listened to the purr of the vehicle. There appeared to be a half tank of gas. Hopefully, it would be enough to get us to our destination.
We didn’t speak as I clumsily drove the car down the driveway. Ryder’s face was unnaturally pale, and his hand was gripping the handle above his head tightly.
I called it the oh-shit-you’re-going-to-die handle.
And from Ryder’s petrified expression, I had no doubt he was feeling exactly that.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you didn’t know how to drive?” Ryder said as the car came dangerously close to a tree. Oops.
“I know how to drive!” I defended. “I have my license.”
Ryder snorted but didn’t argue with me. Probably because he was too busy pissing his pants.
After only about fifteen minutes, the car pulled out onto a long road. Cherry Street, I believed was the name. It was devoid of any stores and only held the occasional house. The trees towered over us, thick branches obscuring the sun.
Ryder finally seemed to relax now that the road was bigger and the trees further away. He still glanced warily at the impending tree line as if he was afraid I planned to drive the car into it. I mean, I wouldn’t do it on purpose or anything.
On accident? It was good for him to be cautious. Hell, even I wanted to hold the oh-shit-I’m-going-to-die handle, and I was driving.
After miles of forested road, we emerged in a small town. The buildings were unfamiliar despite Ryder’s insistence that we were in the right area. Our truck got stuck on more than one occasion due to the flooded streets. Trees littered across the road, providing impenetrable barriers that we struggled to avoid. Roofs were collapsing, and the buildings themselves had broken windows and tattered siding. Cars were beginning to corrode away as if something acidic had attacked the paint.
I wondered what the town had been like before the storm had ravaged it. Before hell had claimed it.
I imagined that it had been cute. Not busy, necessarily, but bustling with regulars and the occasional tourist. Small towns like these always had a certain charm.
The truck suddenly began to spin.
Ryder gripped the handle.
“What the fuck, Addie?” he yelled, accusatorially.
“It wasn’t me!”
