Page 42 of Entombed In Sin

My entire body tenses up as I look over my shoulder, expecting someone to be charging after me. Instead, I see an older gentleman leaning out of his car only a few feet behind me. I only know he’s old because of the heavy, slightly raspy drawl of his voice. Otherwise, he’s shrouded in darkness. No light comes from the cab of his car, and the random streetlamps don’t seem to reach into the hood of his jacket that’s up and around his face.

Not wanting to have my back to this person, I turn all the way around. Swallowing hard, I nod once.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” I call back.

The man says nothing. He simply stares at me. I wait a second longer, wondering if he has anything else to add, but he remains silent. I can feel his eyes on me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in alarm. When I shiver, it has nothing to do with the cold. I take a step away from him, ready to put distance between us.

“Sure is a cold, dark night,” he says conversationally as I start to turn back in the direction I’d been walking.

I pause halfway around. My stomach knots as I wrap my arms tighter around my waist.

“Yup,” I mutter back, not caring if he can hear me or not.

“You shouldn’t be alone. It’s not safe for a young woman like you to roam these streets,” the stranger continues. He taps the outside of his car absentmindedly. “Not safe at all.”

No, it definitely isn’t. I glance left and right, waiting for Thatcher or Sagan to jump out and grab the guy. Or maybe this type of interaction doesn’t count. Swallowing hard, I nod. Rather than say anything else, though, I turn and hurry away. Headlights swing around, lighting up the houses beside me. My heart leaps up into my throat. A moment later, the SUV pulls up beside me. I don’t stop walking. In fact, I add a bit more pep to my step.

The passenger window rolls down slowly, stuttering as it gets stuck before it finishes its descent.

“You know, this neighborhood was vibrant once,” the man drawls, just loud enough for me to hear.

I look over my shoulder, searching for signs of the twins.

“Yup, this place was beautiful,” he says as if I’d replied in some way. “But in the early nineties, a man came through here and destroyed the peace the families in these houses had. Well,he visited all of Chicago really, but these few blocks? They were his favorite. You ever heard of Angel Eyes?”

Please leave me alone, I beg in my head.

“No, you’re probably too young,” the man continues. “Anyway, I remember those days like they were yesterday. Angel Eyes took his time slaughtering the men and women he caught in these houses, then left the bodies all over Chicago. It was a very dangerous time.”

I turn down another street abruptly, officially terrified of this guy. Who talks like this to a complete stranger? My senses go into overdrive when the SUV turns and follows, rolling leisurely beside me.

“It’s because of the horrors Angel Eyes left in his wake that people won’t buy these homes. Even as dirt cheap as they are now. The city can’tgivethem away. And because they’ve just sat, they have now become a breeding ground for trouble. Gangs, drug dealers, rapists, murderers, you name it. It’s all here.”

Thatcher? Sagan? Where are you?I mentally scream as I try to get as far away from the SUV as possible.

“Anyway, it would be a shame to be caught up in the dangers that lurk in the shadows,” the man continues, his voice growing soft, almost introspective. “I’d be more than happy to give you a lift and take you where you need to go.”

I don’t think I can shake my head any faster. “No, thanks.”

“Are you sure? I’d hate to see any harm come to you.” The way he says it, so calm and clear, as if it’s an unfortunate guarantee, makes the contents of my stomach threaten to come back up. There’s something wrong with this guy. Whoever he is, whatever he wants, everything about him screams danger.

As if to prove his point, a gunshot rings out over the city sounds. It’s followed by several more. I flinch hard. Even deep in the shadows, I can see the driver as he jerks his head toward the noise. As he looks away, I take the opportunity to put somedistance between us. I don’t get more than a dozen steps before I hear his approach. The sound of the car accelerating causes me to tense. The stranger pulls up beside me once more then slows to a creep to keep pace.

“The city sounds awfully sinister tonight,” he says, his voice deepening as if annoyed. “Come on, hop in. Let’s get you out of here.”

“No! I mean, ah, no… Thank you, though.” Why am I being polite? I should be telling this guy off. Better yet, I should be running.

I don’t do either.

The man sighs loudly. “Well, if you’re not gonna hop in, let me give you some advice: Stay off the streets of Chicago, young lady. Wherever your friends are, I’d warn them to be careful too. You never know who you’ll run into.”

My footsteps falter. Had I said anything about my friends? Or if they were out and about? No, I’m sure I haven’t. Bile creeps up my throat. He doesn’t know about Thatcher, Sagan, or Knox, does he?

“Well, I suppose I should get going,” he says before letting out a sharp whistle.

I jump in surprise as the piercing sound bounces off the side of the houses and carries on down the street. He laughs loudly. I’m not sure if it’s because of my reaction or just because he’s crazy.

“I hope never to see you around here again, Miss Starr.”

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