Chapter
One
There was this feeling on the back of her neck, this sensation that moved along her arms, her legs, encompassing her. Neeka McCarthy stopped, looked around the seemingly empty parking lot, and a chill wracked her body.
Why in the hell are you stopping?
She adjusted the bags hanging from her arms and quickly made her way toward the car just a few feet away. Her heels clicked against the pavement, becoming louder the faster she moved. Getting her keys out when she was suddenly scared shitless was harder than she’d thought.
When she finally grabbed the keys she dropped them. Cursing, she grabbed them off the asphalt, unlocked her door, and climbed in.
The wind picked up, whipping strands of hair across her face right before she slammed the door shut and locked it.
With her heart beating fast, sweat started to line her forehead, and she couldn’t understand this sudden fear that assaulted her, this instant worry, nagging in the back of her mind that something wasn’t right.
Start the car. Get the fuck out of here.
It was barely seven at night, but with winter already setting in, the sun set quicker than she liked. Before she could put her keys in the ignition, a wet cloth was pressed to her face from behind.
She struggled and tried to scream, but as soon as she felt a sharp, cold blade pressed against her neck, she stilled.
“Shhh. Just relax,” a deep and sinister male voice whispered from behind her.
She felt her eyes widen and her pulse increase. She couldn’t help but inhale the sickening sweet scent that saturated the cloth. Neeka tried to hold her breath, but it was no use, not when panic was seizing her.
“Don’t fight it,” the deep male voice said again, the blade pressing against her neck even more, although not breaking the skin.
Everything around her started to grow fuzzy. Her head felt like it was becoming detached, and her eyes became too heavy to keep open.
And then the blackness took over her, and she was helpless to stop it.
Neeka slowly opened her eyes and was assaulted with excruciating pain in her head. She blinked a couple of times, bright lights all around her intensifying the affliction.
She put her hands to her head and groaned, trying to sit up and instantly becoming nauseated.
As everything came into focus, she realized she was in a strange room. The events from earlier came back in a flood of memories. She looked around carefully, mindful that every time she moved, her head pounded and her stomach recoiled.
She forced herself to sit up, and realized she was on a small one-person sized bed situated in the corner of an almost barren room. Breathing in and out and trying to calm her stomach, she blinked past the pain still radiating in her head.
The four walls surrounding her were made up of cinderblocks, and there were no windows. A toilet, sink, and coffin-sized shower were across from her in the other corner, nothing covering them to offer privacy.
A table and single chair were across from the toilet against the wall, and a three-drawer dresser stood next to that. Her gaze landed on the thick steel door standing ominously in front of her, and beside that a black screen.
No handle.
She noticed a small latched opening at the base of the door, something that she assumed was for shoving trays of food or other items through.
Neeka gingerly stood, her nausea spiking as she was vertical now. Heart racing and palms sweating, she made her way over to the door. Looking at the intercom device on the wall next to the door, she moved her hand in front of it.
There were no buttons to activate it, and right now she was too scared to actually touch it to see if something happened.
Reaching out and running her hands over the cold, hard metal of the door, she pounded on it a couple of times, but the thing was solid.
“Hey,” she said loudly, “anyone out there?”
Maybe not drawing attention to yourself is best, smartest?
She turned in a half circle, looking at the room again, trying to take everything in. That was when she saw the small dark camera placed in the top corner of the room, the tiny red light on it letting her know that she was being watched.
She moved toward the table and looked down at the glass and pitcher of water.
She was thirsty, enough that it felt like she’d swallowed sand, but she wasn’t about to drink anything here. Instead, she moved back to the bed and sat down again, trying to think of what in the hell she was going to do.
Why would someone do this to me? Am I even still in Shyloh?
The small rectangular opening at the bottom of the door suddenly slid open, and she pressed herself against the wall, curling her knees to her chest, her pulse rising.