Page 5 of Echo (A Monster’s Prey #2)

Dinner was more respectable than anything I’d had in a while, and it relieved a lot of worry. If I could preserve my money for gas that would help a lot. Ranger agreed, laying at my feet, licking the egg off his chops. I could almost visualize him popping the button on his pants.

“I know, old man.” Junk food on the road never could have been this satisfying. It made the work it took to gather it worth it.

It was already dark, and I hadn’t gotten anything else done yet.

But the view through the glass door was gorgeous.

The stars and moon shone brighter than they ever did in Miami.

They were a perfect backdrop for the hills behind the outline of the barn.

It probably helped that there wasn’t any lighting on the back porch.

Despite how wound Ranger and I were, there was something peaceful about this place. Like living in another world.

One where my fears didn’t matter as much.

Ranger lifted his head and stared out the door, a growl building. I didn’t see anything, but I was sure there were all kinds of critters running around now.

“Okay. Let’s go through the house and see what we are working with.” I stood to clean up my dishes and thought about what Sally Mae said in town. I stared at the sliding door.

Animals couldn’t open the doors, but Mark could.

I flipped the lock, and a deep growl on the other side rattled my bones. It set every nerve on alarm. Goosebumps coated my skin and made me shiver.

Ranger ran to the glass door, snarling and growling in warning.

Great whatever animal was there was probably going to bust that door to get to him. Maybe this was why there was no evidence of a dog on the property. Why the hell would someone even put in a glass door?

I shut the thick curtain, suddenly remembering what Hilda said. Out of sight, out of mind.

Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, I went into the empty pantry again, huffing. Hopefully, tomorrow I could move faster with what I taught myself today.

The pantry was the size of a walk-in closet. The left and right walls were lined with shelves, and I found it interesting that the back didn’t, it seemed like a waste.

I pressed my hand on the back wall, thinking of what could go in the empty space, and the distinct snick of a latch releasing, echoed in the empty space.

I removed my hand, and a door opened inwards towards me. The light from the pantry illuminated the top two steps of the wooden stairs, but the space below was pitch black, as if the room ate any light that touched it.

I reached into the room, feeling along the wall for a light switch, hoping that I didn’t stick my hand in a spider nest or worse. Once I found it, I flipped the little lever, but nothing happened.

I wasn’t going any further without a light. Up overhead in the pantry, there was a flashlight, casually sitting on the top shelf. I had to climb up the shelves to reach it, but it was safe to assume that it was here because of the electrical issues.

When I jumped down, light in hand, I turned it on.

I slowly scanned the area with the glow, mentally prepared for a dusty room filled with rats and other grossness.

There weren't any obvious signs of neglect or skittering, so I looked at the light switch, and found the electrical wires were disconnected from the rudimentary switch.

Perhaps there was an electrical issue down here, and it was disconnected for safety reasons.

I made a mental note to hire an electrician to check it out, and made my way down the stairs.

Each board creaked under my weight, but it was sturdy enough.

As I went deeper, I flashed the light over the room, and found shelves full of preserved food.

The pantry must have just been for what Pearl intended to use that day or week.

Burlap sacks were full of potatoes and squash.

This would keep me fed for a long minute while I figured out how to make it out here. I let out a breath of relief. There was room for error.

I even found a standing freezer full of meat. I thought about the disconnected light again. Maybe it was that one light that was the problem. That was probably why they never bothered to hire someone to fix it.

I went back up the stairs with a couple of potatoes and a pack of beef in my hands for the morning and the flashlight in my mouth.

Three steps down from the pantry, I felt something under my foot just in time to pull back.

I aimed my face down to find a nail standing straight up, like it was proud to be there.

It was lucky that no one else hurt themselves on it.

I stepped around it and watched the boards closer until I was back in the pantry. I put the potatoes down on a shelf by the door and put the meat in the fridge to thaw, adding the nail as a high priority thing to fix as soon as I found tools.

Ranger was laying on the floor in front of the covered glass door, glowering and his hackles still standing on edge.

“Calm.” I walked up to him and he woofed at me in warning.

I could practically hear him yelling at me to stay the fuck away from the door. When I approached I realized there was a tiny hallway going behind the kitchen.

“Is that the utility room?” I had a load of laundry that absolutely needed a run.

I’d stumbled across the food stores. This felt different as I left the main area of the house. Like I was going into spaces of Pearl’s house that weren't meant for guests.

It’s not Pearl’s house anymore. It’s yours.

I followed the short hallway to a singular door that was hidden away, as if it was ashamed to be there. A thick, sturdy board was slid into brackets as if to keep something contained inside.

I removed the bar and turned the knob only to find it locked. “What the hell?”

The door had three different deadbolts on it. Mary Ellen’s words echoed in my mind, “You’ll know what it’s for when you find it.”

This screamed that vibe.

I pulled the wad of keys out of my pocket, with shaky hands. A sudden nervousness ate at my insides and made my hands tremble.

The longer I stood in front of the door, testing key after key on each and every lock the worse it got.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Madison?”

I fumbled for at least five more minutes before the last lock snicked, and the door opened inwards with a loud creak, that made me think the wood was screaming. As if it hadn’t been opened in countless years, and I’d stressed the stiff muscles of the door.

My stomach knotted up, and the urge to puke hit me sideways. Like the door was the only thing keeping this bad feeling at bay, and now that it was open the vibes hit me right in the gut.

The smell hit me hard. This was what I’d been sort of expecting of the house as a whole. Stale air and dust filled my nose. The house was lived in and comfortable, but this room was cold and abandoned.

Goosebumps crawled over my skin spreading the tremble from my hands to my entire being. A big part of me wanted to shut the door and run.

“Nut up, Maddie. It’s just a room.”

Then why were my feet lead blocks that wouldn’t move forward? Why did I have a sudden urge to burn sage like my grandmother did? Anytime the monsters under my bed scared me as a girl, she’d come in and burn her sage to ward off any evil spirits trying to steal me from her.

Being in my family’s house was fucking with me. I shook my head to fling the terror seeping into my bones away.

With a deep calming breath, I reached in for the light switch, but this time my fingers sank into spider webs. The sensation of little legs crawling on my hand made a girly eep rip out of me that I’d never confess to, and I yanked my hand back to shake the arachnid’s home I destroyed off my hand.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath and reached in again, until I found a tall cylindrical tower of wax, that I knew was a Rinah homemade candle, sitting on a shelf. I pulled it out into the light to confirm what I already knew.

I studied the twelve inch tall, hand sized candle as I blew the dust off the thing.

It had been used numerous times, having a deep melted center that had seen better days.

I risked smelling it and wasn’t surprised to find it infused with sage.

The design carved into the side was what really got my attention.There was an extra detail that was never on my grandma’s candles.

A celtic shield knot.

The same knot that my grandmother would sew over and over again as her mental state declined. She started putting it on everything. Especially clothing.

I still had an apron she’d made me, with that patterning the bottom.

“I’ll protect you, Maddie,” She’d scream at the tops of her lungs before the nurses would sedate her.

I pulled a lighter from my pocket and lit the damn thing, stepping into the room. The dim light of the candle didn’t do much to illuminate the room, and I was still mostly blind. The scent and the illusion of light comforted me enough to take the worst of the edge off.

Despite it being May, I wished for a jacket to help endure the icy breath that the room exhaled onto me. It rolled down my body, like a caressing knife threatening to rip my throat out.

Each step echoed loudly in the eerily silent room. No buzz from electricity. No hum from the woods. It was enough to make me think the room was big and empty.

That’s when it hit me that the flashlight was still in my back pocket. I turned it on and found myself inches from an altar. On top of a knitted shield knot was a metallic dome that looked to be made of nothing more than lead and wielded with yet another shield knot.

“Oh Pearl, what the fuck did you get into?” Shit like this was probably why the townsfolk thought my ancestors made a pact with Lucifer.

There was a table of candles behind the altar, but I didn’t consider lighting any of those any more than I considered lifting the giant dome. Grandma Ruby’s voice was in my mind. “No matter what you believe in, baby girl, it’s best to not fuck with things you don’t understand.”