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Sucking in a deep breath, I close my eyes, willing the pain inside my head to go away. I slowly exhale, then repeat the process three more times before I’m able to open my eyes without agony coursing through my skull.
You can do this. Just move slowly.
Despite the nausea churning in my stomach, I’m coherent, aware of my aching body and the hardness beneath it.
It’s then I realize a rope binds my hands.
Fuck.
Turning my head, I’m greeted by filthy, unrecognizable dark wooden floors. The bowed boards are uncomfortable, digging into my back.
I blink a few times, the room's coolness permeating my jeans and T-shirt, before slowly turning my head back to the dark wooden ceiling above me, my gaze locking on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. My vision swims from the movement, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.
Fight through it, Chase. Find Mackenzie.
Tingles seize my chest as my heart palpitates. Panic chokes and smothers me beneath the weight of guilt and regret as Mackenzie’s beautifully innocent face rolls inside my mind.
Goddamn it. I let her down.
My chest is tight as I wish like hell I could go back and change what happened. I should never have let her run away from me.
My jaw clenches as resolve fills me.There’s no point mulling over it. I need to find Mackenzie.
Adrenaline flows through my body with renewed purpose as I roll onto my side. Breathing heavily from the stale air in the room and my injuries, I manage to sit up, my bound hands slowing me down. I’m aggravated that I’m moving so slowly. Being physically assaulted and drugged will do that to you.
My gaze travels around the small, dimly lit attic room, the cobwebs and dust littering over trunks and broken pieces of furniture. A stained, musty-smelling mattress lies on the floor near the window. A small, worn table with two chairs sits near the far wall. Dark corners hide who knows what kind of insects and rodents, and I suspect there could be bats hiding somewhere from the wooden rafters above.
All thoughts of my ailments disappear as I climb to my feet, contemplating what to do next. Spotting the stairway, I stumble toward it, a wave of dizziness hitting me. Heaving out a breath, I grip the banister before descending the steep stairs.
I’m coming, Mackenzie. I swear to God, I’ll find you.
It seems to take forever for me to get to the bottom of the stairs. It’s as though I’m watching myself from afar, an anxious knot in my stomach as I move in slow motion. Lifting my bound hands, I struggle with the doorknob, but it’s locked.
Panic and rage fill me as I scream Mackenzie’s name, pounding my bound fists against the heavy oak door. Despite the pain in my hands from striking the hard surface, I don’t stop until my hands are bloody and I’m a sweaty mess, my voice so hoarse it’s barely there.
My energy fades as I turn, my back hitting the door as I slide to the floor.
I sit there for a few moments, helplessness coursing through me.Think Chase.What else can you do to find her?
The windows.
Getting to my feet, I head back up the stairs, ignoring my stiff, aching body as I climb the dimly lit steps. Surveying the space, I move to the window closest to the thin, stained mattress. The wooden floorboards creak beneath my sneakers with every step I take.
Iron bars adorn the dirty windows, ensuring there’s no escape. A mournful sigh escapes me as I lean my head against the glass, staring at the world outside. It’s just begun to lighten, the first rays of pink, orange, and red illuminating the sky, revealing miles of thick, dense forest on the horizon.
My gaze flicks to the steep gray roof and dark stone siding stretching to the ground. The roof is so steep on this side, and there’s no ledge that I can see to grip if I could somehow climb out the window. There are three windows below me, which means I’m four stories above the ground.
Even though it’s futile, I grab the bottom of the window, my bound wrists making it harder. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my face as I try to push the window up. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I get the damn thing open, but it gives me a small sense of accomplishment to try something other than sit on my ass helplessly.
With a frown, I release the window, peering closer at the frame. It’s been nailed shut.
Resting my sweaty forehead against the cool glass, I stare vacantly outside. My strength wanes as my morose thoughts begin to take over. My gaze snags on a nearby tree, watching the colorful burnt orange leaves shake and sway in the morning breeze. Some of them fall, floating in the air lazily until they finally land on the ground below to wither and die.
Fucking morbid. The last thing I need to think about is death.
A large patch of evergreens snags my attention. I’m startled as my gaze locks with the beady eyes of a black crow. Its head is cocked, onyx eyes gazing into mine like the bird is imparting a warning.
An ominous chill rolls through my spine as I remember the gothic girl in my ninth-grade class who was obsessed with crows. “One crow is an omen of bad luck. It’s often a sign that death is near. A single crow means someone you know is going to die soon.”
