Page 99 of His to Burn

I never took it seriously, figuring it was just suspicion or habit, but maybe my subconscious mind was on to something.

I realized now that as careful as I thought I was before, I needed to be that tenfold now.

Because the corpses could reach out now.

They could do so much more.

We made it to the back door, and I stopped Asia.

We stood still, listening.

And then I heard it.

That shuffling.

Something clawing at the door.

The sound scratched against my nerves.

Faint, yet brittle.

And way too close.

A cold draft brushed my face, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood mixed with stale motor oil. The draft stirred up dust, and I tasted it, gritty on my tongue.

Asia’s hand was still on my arm, and I knew she held her breath. I felt the tension in her body. And it wasn’t just nerves. She braced herself to move—or to face what might be coming for us.

I heard her sharp sigh, then looked to where she was facing.

Rats.

Rats that had clearly been feasting, their overstuffed bodies swaying as they ran.

And the likely reason for our visitors.

I heard more scuffling—the unmistakable, anxious sound of a hunt.

We needed to go.

I squeezed Asia’s hand, and she squeezed back.

I didn’t know if she was really ready.

But she was going to have to be.

I looked around the garage again, but then focused on the door.

There was no time to secure a car.

I should have done that before, but now was no time for regret.

Regret was a luxury that would get us both killed.

So I tested the lock—froze when there was a heavy creak behind us.

It sounded like a bullhorn. And when I looked at Asia’s wide eyes, I shrugged.

I didn’t know where it came from, but it didn’t matter.