Chapter 2
Giovanna
I’m being rescued—I think. The man that’s now shining his flashlight into my bedroom with his knife in the other hand appears to be protecting me from those things.
Those things. What in the fuck were those things?
Normally, I wouldn’t be so eager to run off with a stranger, but he’s the first voice besides my own that I’ve heard in three months. Plus, I’m not too keen on the idea of being here when they come back. That woman, no bigger than me, had the strength of my bodyguard Richie. Her tiny arms held power as she gripped my neck and petted me—fucking petted me.
I shudder at the thought of being that monster’s plaything and fumble around until I find the handle to my suitcase. I extend it and roll it along the carpet until I’m standing behind the man—my savior.
Instead of speaking, he holds a finger to his lips indicating he wants me to be quiet and then motions for me to follow him. Squeezing Princess tighter to me, I tiptoe after him, towing my luggage behind me.
Swiftly, he lights a path for us to make our way out of my room and into the hallway. Step by step, we softly make our way down toward the stairwell on the carpeted floors. We hear shattering of glass outside and he pauses to listen for noises. Once he trusts we’re safe, he leads me to the top of the stairs.
As we descend the stairs, I lift my suitcase as not to make any noises on the way down. My flip flops make a quiet slapping noise and the man snaps his head to glare at me, pointing the flashlight at my feet. I nod, acknowledging I’ll be quieter and we continue our way down. At the bottom of the stairs, I point in the direction of the front door when he looks at me in question.
We hear a splash out back in my pool and panic overwhelms me. I see my rescuer jump too and we make our way as quickly as possible to the front door before the things come back. He turns the deadbolt on my door and winces when it squeaks. I hear the crunch of feet on glass in the other room and we slip out the front door as fast as we can. After I make it out, he softly pulls it closed behind us.
The moonlight now illuminates his face. Streaks of blood run down his stubbly cheeks. I want to look at him for longer than two seconds, but time is of the essence.
His dark, brown eyes flick over to the door before landing back on my blue ones. “Run,” he mouths urgently and takes off in a sprint in the grassy yard toward the neighbor’s home.
Squatting, I let Princess down and she tears off after him—most likely realizing the man is our only hope of getting out of here alive. I kick off my flip flops and pick them up to hold them so that they don’t make any noise as I run. Since I haven’t exercised in months, this running thing should be interesting. I ignore the pain in my belly from hunger and race after them, dragging my suitcase through the grass.
I see the man make it to the other end of the huge yard and cross over onto my neighbor’s property. He is running toward the detached garage that holds a bunch of vintage, expensive cars. My neighbor is a famous late night talk show host that collects cars. Well, he was my neighbor. I’m not sure if he’s even still there or not. I keep pumping my legs as I make my way halfway across the yard. He’s surveying the door with Princess madly circling his feet. As I run, I watch him use his knife to jimmy the lock and is eventually able to kick the door in.
My lungs burn and my stomach aches with each step and I feel myself slowing. When I steal a glance behind me, panic fills every square inch of my being.
Them.
Instead of being just the two that entered my bedroom, I see at least ten or fifteen of them spill out of the house.
Shit!
My feet make purchase on the long sidewalk that leads to the garage, which makes rolling my suitcase a whole hell of a lot easier.
I’m trying to keep my sights on the garage door the man managed to get open for us as I get closer and closer.
He steps back in the doorway to face me and his entire body tenses.
“Fuck woman, lose the suitcase. It’s making too much fucking noise,” he hisses loudly at me.
The suitcase wheels are making quite the racket as I run, but I’m almost there and I cannot let go of it. It has things I need inside.
“No, there’s food in it,” I snap back, not so quietly.
This time when I sneak another glance back, my heart stops. Thankfully, my feet do not. Every single one of those things is running toward me, full speed ahead, and they’re gaining on me.
As I get close to the doorway, I sling my heavy-ass suitcase at the man. Seamlessly, he catches it and tosses it inside. When I reach the doorway, he shoves me inside and immediately slams the door behind him. My chest heaves as I watch him pick up a long heavy pipe and slide it through the metal handle of the door. Almost as soon as he positions the pipe, something heavy slams against it.
“What the hell are those things?” I squeal in panic.
He grunts in annoyance, but doesn’t answer me. Princess yaps fiercely at the door as the pounding continues.
“Look for windows or other doors. We need to secure ourselves,” he orders in a hushed breath.
Frantically, I search the dark space, only seeing the path his flashlight lights up as he skims it along the walls.