I could see the faint outline of hills in the distance, the streetlamps throwing pale light onto the drenched road. And then—my heart lurched—something small curled on the far side of the street, where the light barely reached.
I blinked hard, swiping condensation from the glass. Yes—there. There was a child, or what looked like one, curled in a foetal position, rain pounding mercilessly against the fragile shape.
Were they dead?
Just then, it made a jerky move, one leg stretching out before folding back in, head tucking tight into their chest.
Okay, no. A dead body wouldn’t shift. My breath snagged in my throat as the outline twisted again. The crying grew louder, threading through the storm, high-pitched and raw.
A child’s cry.
Cold washed through me, chasing away the initial shock. Memories of the messenger snaked up my spine, and I snapped the curtains shut, heart thudding.Once bitten, twice shy.
I shook my head violently. No child in their right mind would lie in the open rain, in this cold, unless it wasn’t a child at all. Unless it was something else, something that wanted me outside. Just like the messenger.
Turning away, I hurried to the door and slipped into the hallway. My knuckles rapped against Thrax’s door before I pushed it open.
The bed was laid but the room was void of the usual heat and him. My throat tightened as I checked the bathroom, then returned to my room.
He isn’t here.
Gripping my phone, I walked back to the window. The crying had stopped, but the body was still there, rain soaking it through.
I raised my camera, snapping a photo to send to Thrax. But the image came out blurry and dark, the body barely visible. Frustrated, I typed instead:
Me
Where are you?
I waited, but there was no response. Carrying the phone, I padded downstairs and poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen, eyes never leaving the screen.
Still nothing.
My fingers flew again.
Me
I know you’re with your
phone. I saw something outside.
I hit send—
BOOM!
Not thunder.
It was a sound that exploded from outside, as though something massive had slammed into the back of a car. My body jolted, the phone nearly slipping from my hands. I caught it at the last second, clutching it tight as my eyes whipped to the front door.
Weeny Man’s car. That thing had hit his car.
The rain battered harder, thunder cracking, lightning flooding the windows white. My pulse thundered in rhythm with it as I rose from the stool, inching towards the door.
Something had hit it. Something very heavy.
Maybe it was the wind. Maybe something had blown against the car...
I froze some feet away, breath stalled in my throat. The door stared.
