Dylan surged forward, leaving me and Jilly a few steps behind. Jilly struggled to keep up but she was trying. Some people didn’t have endurance. Jilly was one of those people.
It was going to be a challenge to keep her from running to the cops, especially if Dylan kept snapping at her.
“I can’t feel my feet anymore,” Jilly murmured, mostly to me.
“Me either,” I said, which was a blessing. I no longer felt the throbbing agony of my torn toenail. If we didn’t end up with frostbite it would be a miracle but we didn’t have a choice. We had to keep going. “At least it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I think that’s a bad sign,” Jilly said, fearful. “I don’t want to lose my toes.”
“You won’t,” I assured her but hell, I didn’t know if I was talking out my ass or if I was right. All I knew was that we were trudging through the bitter cold with only the thin pajamas they kept us in and we were nearly frozen to the bone but at least we weren’t locked in a room like prisoners. “I’d rather die of exposure than do anything Madame Moirai told me to do.”
“Do you think…she was going to kill us?”
“I don’t know.” I thought of the makeshift morgue downstairs. Why would they have a facility set up like that? Even with a quick look at Tana, I could tell she’d been cleaned up. Aside from the bruising, she looked as if she were sleeping. Had she died in the mansion or had she died elsewhere and returned to Madame Moirai like defective merchandise?
“I don’t understand why she did this to us. We followed through on our end. We signed c-c-c-ontracts.” Jilly’s teeth began to chatter. “We did everything she asked us to.”
Dylan whipped around to stare us down. “She was never going to pay us. It was all a fucking lie. We were used. That’s it. Plain and simple. We fell for her con and now we’re paying for our stupidity. Best to stop asking for a reason. Shit happens and then you die.”
“You’re a ray of fucking sunshine,” I muttered. “Maybe you could shut your trap if you’re not going to say anything worth hearing.”
Dylan smirked and turned back around.
If we didn’t make it to a town soon, we might die of exposure before Madame Moirai could get to us first or I might push Dylan down a hill.
It could go either way.
A half-hour later, lights appeared in the distance as we crested the hill and discovered a small town. Relief made tears spring to my eyes and gave me a surge of adrenaline. We all picked up the pace to a light jog until we spotted a darkened house off the main road. We skidded to a stop, breathing hard, creating frosty plumes before our faces. “They probably have a car,” I said, looking to Dylan.
Rift forgotten, Dylan nodded. “Let’s go.”
We quietly made our way toward the house, creeping slowly onto the property, listening for dogs who might give away our position.
But as we got closer, we could tell the house was empty. “I think it’s a vacation rental or something,” I said.
Jilly agreed, relieved. “No one is here during the winter. It’s probably locked up for the season.”
“There’s probably not a car, then,” I said.
“No, but we can get out of the cold before we freeze our asses off,” Dylan said and I couldn’t argue that point.
We made our way to the house, checked for alarms and found none. Dylan grabbed a small rock and went around to the back door. The sound of breaking glass tinkled into the night. A dog barked in the distance as we rounded the corner and found Dylan shoving her hand through the broken pane to twist the lock open. The door swung in and we hurried inside and closed the door behind us.
The house wasn’t big but it was cozy. The furniture was draped in sheets to protect from dust. It was clean, which meant someone came fairly regularly to upkeep the property during the winter months.
It also meant there was probably running water and electricity. I wandered until I found the kitchen and tested my theory. I checked the tap and water flowed out. I nearly cried with relief. I turned the hot water on and waited for it to warm up. My hands were shaking as the water sluiced over my frozen hands. Feeling returned to my fingers and agony followed as pinpricks needled beneath my skin. Once I could flex my fingers well enough, I shut off the water and checked the pantry. As I’d hoped, canned goods were stacked neatly on the shelves. I grabbed a few cans of peaches and pears and rummaged around in the drawers until I found a can opener.
I returned to the girls who had found a small battery-operated lantern for a small amount of light because we didn’t dare flood the house for fear of being caught.
“It’s not much but I thought you might find it better than oatmeal,” I said, opening each can and handing them out.
“Holy fuck, I’m starving,” Dylan said, grabbing the peaches and digging in with her fingers. She dropped whole halves into her mouth and greedily gulped down the juice. She groaned with happiness and finished the can while Jilly and I shared a can of pears.
“What else was in the kitchen?” Dylan asked, wiping her mouth.
“I don’t know, I just saw the fruit and grabbed it.”
Dylan jumped to her feet and went to investigate. I heard her rummaging around before she returned a few minutes later with more cans of food, including a can of Spam. “I love this shit!” she exclaimed.
She made quick work of the can and using a knife she’d grabbed, began slicing the canned meat. We each took a slice and started eating. It was practically a feast of kings given our circumstances.
Once our bellies were mostly full, we were able to take stock of our situation.
“I say we get a few hours of sleep and then try to make it to town,” I said.
“I’m so tired and cold,” Jilly said, nodding. “We can all sleep together for warmth.”
I expected Dylan to shut down that idea but even she knew that was our best option. We couldn’t afford to build a fire because the smoke might attract attention.
We might not be out in the open but the house was still an icebox.
“Fine,” Dylan agreed with a yawn. “Let’s find the master bedroom. It’ll have the biggest bed.”
I deposited our trash in the trash compactor — I didn’t want to leave a mess for whoever owned the house — and followed the girls upstairs to find the master.
True to Dylan’s assumption, the master bedroom had a king-sized bed covered with a thick country quilt and plenty of pillows. I looked down at my feet, seeing the blood and detoured to the bathroom to rinse off.
While Dylan and Jilly climbed into the bed without caring, I took the time to gently wash my feet, taking care to rinse my damaged toe so I didn’t get an infection. I found a bandage in the medicine cabinet and wrapped my toe, hobbling back to the bed.
Dylan and Jilly were already asleep.
I climbed in beside them, burrowing down in the heavy blankets, grateful for the warmth and the shelter.
But even as I sank into an exhausted sleep, nothing could keep the memory of Tana from my brain.
How could I possibly make it right when we had nothing but the clothes on our back and zero chance of getting anyone to believe us?
Fuck, it felt hopeless.
21
Milky morning light filtered in through the bedroom window. The light patter of rain danced on the rooftop. I rose from the bed and went to the window, careful to stay out of the direct line of sight. It’d been hard to tell at night but the house seemed the only residence for a few miles. People liked to vacation in small towns outside of the city for a weekend, which made houses like these popular rentals. That worked in our favor because it meant that it was unlikely anyone was going to pop in and catch us.