Cover Reveal ~Hunted #2
Author: Aoife Marie Sheridan
Date: 26th of March
(Taken from Chapter one)
The hairs slowly rose on the back of my neck, and I looked behind me several times. Cathy’s arm brushed mine as we walked closely beside each other. “Where do you think everyone is?” Cathy asked in a whisper. I didn’t get to answer her. She had stopped walking. “Look, there’s that cat...the one who talks.” She was right.
The talking cat stood on the steps of a building across from us. His eyes trained on me before he disappeared.
“Someone’s over there,” Cathy whispered. I followed her hand and could see a curtain fall back into place; I searched again for the cat, but it was nowhere to be seen. “We should ask for help.” Cathy’s eyes glowed brightly with a hunger to make sense of this madness.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t think entering any building would be wise.
“Please.” Cathy’s arm gripped mine again, and I could see and feel her panic.
“Okay.” We moved across the deserted street. Once again, the hairs rose on the back of my neck. It felt as if a thousand eyes watched us from the dark shadows of the buildings, yet there was nothing to suggest any life.
We paused in front of an apartment. I looked for a knocker, but couldn’t see one, so I raised my hand to knock on the solid black door. It opened before I could.
A little old lady with white hair and a walking stick stared back at me.
My body relaxed automatically, and I could feel Cathy do the same. “Hi. I’m so sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we seem to have lost our way, and I was wondering if I could use your phone?” I asked in my most pleasant and respectful voice.
The old lady smiled; she had a few teeth missing. “Come on in, dears, you’ll catch your death of cold standing in that rain.” She pulled the door fully open to let us enter.
To say my skin crawled would be an understatement. The carpet beneath our feet slushed with the thick layer mould growing on it. I looked at Cathy and could see the repulsion in her face.
“Something wrong, dear?”
I turned to the little old lady. She wasn’t looking at me, and then it dawned on me that she was blind. Her eyes were not focused, and she had that faraway look blind people often had.
“No, ma’am, just would be great to use the phone,” I said. My eyes scanned the hall. Fungus seemed to grow everywhere, the paint flaking away from years of abandonment. The women moved down the hall and opened a door to her left that screeched on its hinges. Light shone out from the open door. Funny; I hadn’t noticed the light from the street.
“Something’s not right,” Cathy whispered beside me.
“I know, but we’ll make the call and leave,” I whispered back.
“Somehow, I don’t think she has a phone,” Cathy whispered as I walked through the door. A part of me knew she was right.