Page 16 of Lamb

By now, she’d be begging for a drink. If my grasp on her alcohol dependency was accurate, which it would be, then eight hours without a drink would make her—

I stopped.

My hand grasped gently around the basement doorknob. I glanced toward the keypad flat on the side of the wall. The little green lock light that would glow in low light was dark.

The lock was disengaged.

I didn’t remember opening the door or rushing down the stairs. All I could remember was the empty cell and the unlocked metal gate.

Ash had escaped.

Chapter Five

ASH

The taste of freedom was dry and nauseating.

I did not know how long it had been since I had managed to break free. I had hit the concrete and had not stopped since.

Darkness still shrouded me, and I had long since left the comforting surrounds of housing behind. Open land stretched far beyond me on either side, and the road was empty, stretching far into the distance, not a landmark in sight. Trees scattered across the horizon, but other than that, there was little way to know where I was.

Except that I was not in Fellpeak.

The surrounding area was similar, but I had grown familiar enough with that place that I knew this was not it.

I paused, my legs burning and my head spinning. Bile sat at the back of my throat, and my pounding head threatened to drop me to the floor. It was heavy, and I was weak. Even as my knees dropped against the hard tarmac, I couldn’t care.

“Fuck,” I hissed, pressing my forehead into the cool, rough feel of the ground. Loose stones and debris pressed into my skin, but it only served as a distraction. “I need a drink.” I slowedmy breathing, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest, mentally trying to stop myself from vomiting.

I could not count on my fingers how many hours had passed since I had last had a stiff drink pressed to my lips, but I was feeling them. It was not so bad at first; a hangover gripped me when I woke, but it was only a mild headache. Now, it was way worse.

I was not unaware of my addiction. My body had become accustomed to a drink, and my hands felt empty without a bottle. At first, it was to calm my thoughts and to sleep. But sleep came in fits and bursts, and the thoughts would always wither back in.

Drinking just helped avoid them. My mind had already begun to whisper. Its devilish whispers were taunting and cruel.

Give up.

Murderer …

I gathered my meagre strength and pushed my feet back underneath me, the ground tilting below. My hand clasped over my mouth as my stomach rushed into it.

Die.

I choked, bile spluttering through my fingers, my strength sapped out again as the contents of my stomach ejected onto the road.

“No.” I retched, trying to catch my breath. “Shut up. I won’t listen to you.”

The ground vibrated beneath my hands and knees, and a distant rumble grew louder and louder. Something was approaching, and I was in the middle of the road. I could only pray they would see me, for my body had no strength left to move.

Or perhaps it would hit me.

I wanted it to.

Monster …

White light burned across the concrete, and my eyes stung at the intensity of the headlights.

You think you can get away with this—

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