more agitated.
“I was hoping you would help me … I am … looking for them. I need to reach the hounds,” Bliss said, feeling as she uttered the words that it was a hopeless enterprise her mother had set her on.
The girl began to shake and rock back and forth, whimpering a little, like a wounded animal. “Get away from me … get away … “
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry … please believe me, I don’t want to hurt you,” Bliss said. “But I need to know about the hounds.”
“Thehounds!” the girl screamed suddenly, her eyes blazing, looking directly into Bliss’s green ones. “Why do you seek the hounds? Beware! No one hunts the pack!”
They stared at each other in silence. Then the door opened. Time was up. Bliss left the room.
“So. What’d you think?” the orderly asked as they walked back to the lobby. “Hard nut to crack, right?”
Bliss did not answer, trying to convince herself that the girl in the room had no idea what she was talking about, that she just wanted to scare her. But Bliss had seen a lot in her lifetimes. She didn’t scare that easily.
TEN
Thegirl’s words had unnerved her, but Bliss managed to stay calm as she hurried across the hospital parking lot. She had faced monsters tougher than hounds. After all, they were merely her father’s attack dogs and she wasn’t going to be scared of a few mangy mutts no matter what that spooky-eyed girl said.
She dialed Jane’s cell phone, needing to hear her aunt’s friendly voice, and was disappointed when the call went to voice mail. Bliss left a message. “Hey, it’s me. It’s her all right, but she was uncooperative. Really uncooperative, if you know what I mean. I’ll tell you more when I see you. I’m on my way back to the room. See you in a bit.”
Traffic was slow and it was dark when Bliss rolled into the crowded parking lot. The Bedside Inn was more apartment house than motel; too late they had discovered it served as a halfway station for people who couldn’t make first and last months’ rent or pass a credit check. When Bliss exited the elevator she found the doors to several rooms open on the floor, tenants chatting in bathrobes and wet hair, swapping stories and gossip. Kids ran from one room to the next as if the whole complex were their playground. She had experienced a moment of panic when she first saw the small, ugly room. There was graffiti on the pillows and the bedspread looked like it had last been cleaned in the Reagan era.
AsBliss made her way to her room, she nodded to her neighbors and leapt over their kneeling children, but the other tenants were cool to her; no one returned her nervous smile, and some looked outright hostile. It was with some relief that she finally reached her door. She knocked rather than using her key, just to let Jane know she was there. “Aunt Jane? It’s me.” She waited for her to open the door, but nothing happened. Could Jane still be sleeping?
She’d have to open the door herself. She slid the key-card into the reader and the light flashed green. She turned the lever and pushed the door open. The room was completely dark. She hated to wake up Aunt Jane, but she couldn’t see a thing.
As soon as she turned on the light, she wished she hadn’t. Furniture was tipped over, the room in disarray from a clear sign of a struggle, and the walls were raked by claw prints. There was no sign of Jane anywhere.
Bliss screamed.
No one hunts the pack
, the broken girl at the asylum had warned.
A fewhours later Bliss sat in her rental car in the motel parking lot, unable to move. None of the residents or staff at the motel had seen or heard anything. She had answered the questions posed by the police and the motel security and waited until they had cleared her alibi, thanks to the clinic’s visitor log. Finally, the detectives dismissed her for the night. She meant to take a little break, maybe pick up something to eat, although she wasn’t hungry. But she needed to get away
“I was hoping you would help me … I am … looking for them. I need to reach the hounds,” Bliss said, feeling as she uttered the words that it was a hopeless enterprise her mother had set her on.
The girl began to shake and rock back and forth, whimpering a little, like a wounded animal. “Get away from me … get away … “
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry … please believe me, I don’t want to hurt you,” Bliss said. “But I need to know about the hounds.”
“Thehounds!” the girl screamed suddenly, her eyes blazing, looking directly into Bliss’s green ones. “Why do you seek the hounds? Beware! No one hunts the pack!”
They stared at each other in silence. Then the door opened. Time was up. Bliss left the room.
“So. What’d you think?” the orderly asked as they walked back to the lobby. “Hard nut to crack, right?”
Bliss did not answer, trying to convince herself that the girl in the room had no idea what she was talking about, that she just wanted to scare her. But Bliss had seen a lot in her lifetimes. She didn’t scare that easily.
TEN
Thegirl’s words had unnerved her, but Bliss managed to stay calm as she hurried across the hospital parking lot. She had faced monsters tougher than hounds. After all, they were merely her father’s attack dogs and she wasn’t going to be scared of a few mangy mutts no matter what that spooky-eyed girl said.
She dialed Jane’s cell phone, needing to hear her aunt’s friendly voice, and was disappointed when the call went to voice mail. Bliss left a message. “Hey, it’s me. It’s her all right, but she was uncooperative. Really uncooperative, if you know what I mean. I’ll tell you more when I see you. I’m on my way back to the room. See you in a bit.”
Traffic was slow and it was dark when Bliss rolled into the crowded parking lot. The Bedside Inn was more apartment house than motel; too late they had discovered it served as a halfway station for people who couldn’t make first and last months’ rent or pass a credit check. When Bliss exited the elevator she found the doors to several rooms open on the floor, tenants chatting in bathrobes and wet hair, swapping stories and gossip. Kids ran from one room to the next as if the whole complex were their playground. She had experienced a moment of panic when she first saw the small, ugly room. There was graffiti on the pillows and the bedspread looked like it had last been cleaned in the Reagan era.
AsBliss made her way to her room, she nodded to her neighbors and leapt over their kneeling children, but the other tenants were cool to her; no one returned her nervous smile, and some looked outright hostile. It was with some relief that she finally reached her door. She knocked rather than using her key, just to let Jane know she was there. “Aunt Jane? It’s me.” She waited for her to open the door, but nothing happened. Could Jane still be sleeping?
She’d have to open the door herself. She slid the key-card into the reader and the light flashed green. She turned the lever and pushed the door open. The room was completely dark. She hated to wake up Aunt Jane, but she couldn’t see a thing.
As soon as she turned on the light, she wished she hadn’t. Furniture was tipped over, the room in disarray from a clear sign of a struggle, and the walls were raked by claw prints. There was no sign of Jane anywhere.
Bliss screamed.
No one hunts the pack
, the broken girl at the asylum had warned.
A fewhours later Bliss sat in her rental car in the motel parking lot, unable to move. None of the residents or staff at the motel had seen or heard anything. She had answered the questions posed by the police and the motel security and waited until they had cleared her alibi, thanks to the clinic’s visitor log. Finally, the detectives dismissed her for the night. She meant to take a little break, maybe pick up something to eat, although she wasn’t hungry. But she needed to get away
Similar Books
