JК
Ыоуве Been Warned :: Patterson James
Страница: 126 из 138Not to Dakota. She’s only seven years old.
How could she know about the Fálcon or that her mother might be there? It doesn’t seem possible.
Yeah, just like everything else that’s happened so far.
The pathetic truth is – anything is possible right now.
Chapter 101
I’M CLOSE. The corner of the Fálcon is twenty… ten… five feet away. I squeeze my eyes shut, running blind. I can’t bear to look at this.
But I have to look, don’t I? I feel like I have no free will in this matter.
Racing around the corner, I brace for the worst shock of my life. The four body bags.
They aren’t there, thank God. Not yet, at least.
There’s no crime scene, no throng of onlookers. No Dakota either. Just the bright red awning of the Fálcon, pulling me in with its powerful undertow.
Seconds later, I burst through the front doors. Don’t let them be in the same room as before! It’s where Michael would surely look first. He knows the number. I told him.
Dashing through the lobby, I head straight for the elevators, only to see half a dozen people waiting there. Without breaking stride, I turn for the stairs, taking two at a time. I’m leaking buckets of sweat as I climb past the second and third floors.
Spilling out onto the fourth, I practically hurl myself down the long hallway.
It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
Never has a silence sounded so deadly, so haunting and eerie.
I pass one door after another until I reach the room Penley and Stephen were in. Their room. I come to a fast stop, and it’s as if I’ve given the pain of running here a chance to catch up. My legs and lungs feel like an inferno.
I see a “Do Not Disturb” sign that wasn’t there yesterday. Staring at it, I almost don’t notice the other thing that’s different.
The door’s open.
Just an inch, not even that. A small sliver of space between the door and the jamb. Slowly, I push my way in.
It’s no Motel 6. The room is more of a chic apartment. I step into a foyer with black-and-white tile like a chessboard. More games to play? For the first time, I hear something – a voice from around the corner.
It’s Stephen.
Is he laughing? Why would he be laughing?
I take a few more steps forward and realize he isn’t laughing. No, he’s crying. Sobbing is more like it.
Peeking my head out, I glimpse down the short hallway and I see why.
Michael has a gun pressed to his forehead.
How could she know about the Fálcon or that her mother might be there? It doesn’t seem possible.
Yeah, just like everything else that’s happened so far.
The pathetic truth is – anything is possible right now.
Chapter 101
I’M CLOSE. The corner of the Fálcon is twenty… ten… five feet away. I squeeze my eyes shut, running blind. I can’t bear to look at this.
But I have to look, don’t I? I feel like I have no free will in this matter.
Racing around the corner, I brace for the worst shock of my life. The four body bags.
They aren’t there, thank God. Not yet, at least.
There’s no crime scene, no throng of onlookers. No Dakota either. Just the bright red awning of the Fálcon, pulling me in with its powerful undertow.
Seconds later, I burst through the front doors. Don’t let them be in the same room as before! It’s where Michael would surely look first. He knows the number. I told him.
Dashing through the lobby, I head straight for the elevators, only to see half a dozen people waiting there. Without breaking stride, I turn for the stairs, taking two at a time. I’m leaking buckets of sweat as I climb past the second and third floors.
Spilling out onto the fourth, I practically hurl myself down the long hallway.
It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
Never has a silence sounded so deadly, so haunting and eerie.
I pass one door after another until I reach the room Penley and Stephen were in. Their room. I come to a fast stop, and it’s as if I’ve given the pain of running here a chance to catch up. My legs and lungs feel like an inferno.
I see a “Do Not Disturb” sign that wasn’t there yesterday. Staring at it, I almost don’t notice the other thing that’s different.
The door’s open.
Just an inch, not even that. A small sliver of space between the door and the jamb. Slowly, I push my way in.
It’s no Motel 6. The room is more of a chic apartment. I step into a foyer with black-and-white tile like a chessboard. More games to play? For the first time, I hear something – a voice from around the corner.
It’s Stephen.
Is he laughing? Why would he be laughing?
I take a few more steps forward and realize he isn’t laughing. No, he’s crying. Sobbing is more like it.
Peeking my head out, I glimpse down the short hallway and I see why.
Michael has a gun pressed to his forehead.