Where Silence Gathers (Some Quiet Place #2)(28)
The intruder is faster. A rough hand hauls me back, wrenching my shoulder, and slams me into the wall. That same hand covers my mouth, eliminating the chance to scream. The stench of unwashed body assaults my senses. I struggle, still trying to shriek, but every part of me is pinned. Heavy breathing heats the back of my neck as the person laughs.
“Wow, you’re pretty,” a voice purrs against my temple. Definitely not Andrew. “Would be a shame to scar that smooth skin.”
I retort, the words muffled by his big palm. He’s male, without a doubt; I can feel him against my thigh.
Before I can think of a way to get free, the voice adds, “Where is it?”
Where’s what? I start to ask. Then it occurs to me. Of course, the flash drive. What else could it be? The hand falls away, giving me a chance to answer. I should call for help; Angus might be home. I should shatter the night with a scream. Instead, I hear myself growl, “I think it’s where your balls should be.”
Pause. I steel myself for a blow, and in the instant of silence there’s another sound, not at all faint. An engine. There’s no mistaking whose car it is, because that tell-tale pop of the exhaust bursts through the night. Horror washes over me and I’m slow to react, to comprehend.
No.
Missy, coming home early. My attacker must know time is running out, too, because he presses even closer. Outside, a dog begins to bark.
“Tell anyone about this, we go after your precious Saul and Missy next,” he hisses.
I try to speak again, this time to beg him not to hurt my aunt. Before I can, there’s a flash of movement and a moment of searing pain against my skull. I fight a wave of dizziness, but it’s no use. The darkness swallows the darkness.
ELEVEN
Dr. Norris shines a light in my eyes. Back and forth, back and forth. I study him and remember a time when his hair wasn’t so white and his eyes weren’t so watery. We’re in his kitchen, since Missy rushed me right to his front door. His office is on the other side of the garage, but I guess that was too far to walk before doing the examination.
“Are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous? Or anything out of the ordinary, really?” the old man asks. His bones creak as he flattens his palms against his thighs and stands.
Out of the ordinary. Right on cue, that voice penetrates the medicinally induced fog around me. Alexandra. I force a bright smile, looking our town’s only doctor in the eye as I chirp, “Nope.” My head has stopped throbbing, at least.
“You need to be more careful.” My aunt rests her hand on my shoulder, as though to assure herself that I’m really solid and sitting here. She’s been doing that a lot since she found me on the floor of our apartment—after I tripped on the edge of the rug and hit my head. That’s the story she knows, at least. The truth would put her in danger, and I need Saul and Missy to be safe. “It’s late,” she adds, sighing. “Let’s go home. It’s safe for her to sleep, right?”
Dr. Norris nods, and Missy follows him into the other room, checkbook in hand even though we can’t afford this. My new pills rattle in her purse. They leave me in the kitchen. I stay there to gather my composure. Across from where I sit, there’s a window. Something moves in the glass. My pulse picks up speed again before I realize it’s just a reflection.
I stare at the girl. She stares back with wide, fevered eyes. I don’t recognize her. She must be me, though, because we lift our hands at the same time. Blink at the same time.
“Alex? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Coming.” I turn my back on the stranger.
They’re both waiting for me by the door. Dr. Norris winks and presses a sucker into my hand, just like he did when I was little. I manage to thank him, and the old man pats my cheek as Missy pulls me into the night. He smells like cigarettes, which he shouldn’t, because everyone knows he was diagnosed with lung cancer last year. Still, I understand. Even when we know something is bad for us, we depend on it anyway, because it’s easier than acknowledging how broken we are.
Missy and I get into the truck and head home. We don’t speak. As always, Elvis is oblivious to the strain filling this space like Dr. Norris’s cancer, unseen but devastating. When Missy first found me, Fear hounded us all the way to the doctor’s. Now Worry appears behind her, his hands fluttering over her. For the first time, he addresses me. “She’s wondering if you told the truth about your accident,” the Emotion mutters. “She’s worried that you won’t survive this.”
“This?” I repeat, so quietly that Missy doesn’t hear. She’s immersed in the road, lips twisted in thought.
Worry begins to disintegrate. His answer drifts to me. “Grief.”
The brakes squeal when Missy parks. We both get out and climb the steps. Missy goes right in, but I hesitate at the threshold, remembering what happened just a few hours ago. Wow, you’re pretty. Somehow, I know the intruder won’t be back tonight. He’ll be back, no doubt, but not tonight. Would be a shame to scar that smooth skin. My stomach quakes, and I make myself step through the doorway. I turn the lock, something we haven’t done in years. Saul has a key.
It isn’t until we’re completely inside the apartment that Missy finally breaks the silence. She takes a breath and faces me, her expression unfathomable in the darkness. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she says, holding my face in her rough palms. My aunt’s scent is a combination of soap and laundry detergent. It’s one of the best smells in the world, but I can’t tell her that. The words just won’t come.