Page 25 of Beautiful Prey

I walked over to the desk with the laptop, eyeing the cabinets. “This is where you keep your records of your testing?” I asked.

“Yes, data from the last two years.”

“And the rest?”

“It gets stored on a separate and secure server. Files and paperwork older than five years go to storage.”

“In the old building?”

Uncle Wes shook his head. “No, our warehouse actually. That’s where your dad wanted them. They were here before but he didn’t want them taking up room, which, funny enough, now we have plenty. But I didn’t transfer all those boxes back here. We're talking thirty years’ worth.”

The warehouse. Dad only brought me there once. A quick detour to grab some equipment for work before taking me and my brother out to Christmas dinner. I remember the place, located near the riverside, a rundown building with some of the windows boarded up, the paint on the sides fading, the door rusted on the edges. One of the street lights outside was always out, making the place so dark and unwelcoming. It smelled like something had died and rotted inside. Dad said it was probably a possum that got trapped somewhere, its corpse decaying in some vent or in the walls. That hadn’t made me feel better.

As if that place hadn’t given me the creeps enough, Dad had to take his gun because he warned us that it was also a place squatters liked to hang around, addicts looking for a place to shoot up. Dad said they got in through the broken windows somehow, trying to find a warm but unoccupied place. Why he then thought it was okay to bring his kids along was an astounding mystery. He had been right though when I found one of them hiding in the dingy bathroom, scaring me to death. Some girl who looked gaunt and decayed, like a corpse. Her hair mostly gone, her arms full of bruises.

She’d shaken her head at me, mumbling incoherently, her eyes wild, clearly looking around for the exit so she could get away without being found. I had screamed for my father and he had come around quickly, then commanded me to go back to the car and lock it. Then I got an ear full after for not following orders and staying in eyesight of him like he had asked.

It was safe to say the warehouse wasn’t a place I would have gladly visited again. It also seemed to make perfect sense it would be where he would keep anything of importance locked away.

Luckily, I had access to it. When Dad died, the estate went to me including any property within. The warehouse was dad’s personal property even if the company utilized it. Dad’s share in the company went to me as well. I hadn’t gone back to the old house or any of dad’s places since the incident because it only filled me with bad memories. I had planned to sell most of it, but Uncle Wes had convinced me to wait and let them sit since they were already paid off, then make my final decision after college.

I smiled at him. “Thanks for letting me see this. I realize I haven't been back in a while. Haven’t seen any of the new stuff.”

“It’s no problem, I’d be happy to show you more,” he said. “But I gotta get home. Maybe another time?”

“Sure. Of course.”

He nodded. I followed him out, eyeing the rabbits once more as we passed. They all looked healthy enough, not a single one with a missing eye or ear. Still, I felt sorry for them, and for a brief moment, I wanted to unlock all the cages. Watch them go wild as they bolted free, trying to escape.

Rabbits don’t last very long. They never do.

A chill ran down my spine. As we walked silently back toward Uncle Wes’s office I thought of Emery. When I said goodbye, I went back through the old building to my car. I sat there for a long moment staring at the crest above the door and the Martelname underneath it. When the daylight began to fade, I turned on my car and headed down toward the river.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The warehouse was a little south of the city, past the Ambassador Bridge and near the old Wayne Fort. From the main road that sat at the top of a hill I could see a set of buildings and a fence surrounding them. Beyond them was a field of wild grass followed by the river. I turned down the narrow road leading to the set of buildings, to the security gate at the bottom. I told the guard at his station who I was and which warehouse was mine.

“But I left my key,” I said, truthfully. The set of keys that had been given to me I had left in a safety storage box by Uncle Wes’ request, back at Harper Pointe. But I hoped they kept a spare.

“Drive straight down to the little shed at the center of the fork there.” The guard pointed past the gate and the road that split off in opposite directions to encircle the buildings.

I did as told, parking next to the little shed. Inside, I found a wall of lockboxes hanging, the numbers to each warehouse written above them. I found the number to mine, the box secured to a small chain so they couldn’t be taken.

I didn’t have the combination. But, thankfully, Dad was not good with passwords. My brother and I always knew how to get onto his computer at home along with his tablets and phonesbecause the passwords were nearly always the same. We teased him all the time about safety, but he would blow it off saying he hated having to remember.

I tried the first one he used the most but it didn’t work. So I tried all of our birthdays next as he used those sometimes too. My brother’s was the one of choice as the box clicked open.

I took the key and leaped back into my car. By now, the sunlight was nearly gone as I weaved around the large, mostly dark and worn-out buildings. When I found mine, I stopped and parked just in front of the door.

It was just as I remembered that night long ago, only there had been a fresh dusting of snow on the ground where now there were the dead leaves of fall. The light by the street was out, leaving only my headlights to wash over the door and front side with bright light.

Keeping my car lights on so I could see, I went to the door and put in the key. I didn’t have a weapon in case of squatters so I only hoped there were none for me to encounter. I thought back again to the girl, her wide eyes sunken into her face. My hand trembled as I turned the key and pushed.

The door screeched open, making me flinch. I stepped back, staring into the dark, where my headlights only reached so far. In the shadows, I thought I caught movement, something skittering away. Heart pounding, I reached around the door and turned on the light. It flickered to life, and I peered in, seeing nothing, hearing nothing.

“Hello?” I called, hoping that would stir anyone that might be inside to leave out some back window. I waited to hear anything. When I didn’t, I moved inside.

Nothing had changed. There were rows of metal shelves that created almost a labyrinth around the first half, filled with old equipment and boxes. When I turned a corner I almost leapt out of my skin at a dummy skeleton hanging out by one wall. I foundan old flashlight of the heavier variety and, though it no longer worked, I carried it, gripping it tightly in one hand in case I had to swing it at someone. When I got to the back, the space opened up more. There was a large MRI machine sitting to one side and a set of monitors, a set of tables and chairs stacked to another side, a few cabinets, and a gurney with a few straps missing. Past one lone shelf I saw the small, unfinished bathroom, why they had one at all here was weird enough to me. I went farther back to the end and came to an office and flipped on the light.

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