Page 33 of One More Chance

A sarcastic comment bubbled up, but she pushed it down. This might not work, and then she’d look like a fool. So, she said nothing and backed up a step. Slammed her shoulder into the door and snapped it free of the frame and the lock holding it shut.

The door splintered.

“Yeah, like that.”

Kenna was focused too intently on the room beyond the door to make a snarky comment back. There was plenty of time for the two of them to banter. “See if you can find a light switch.”

“One that isn’t going to shock me?”

She couldn’t resist saying, “If you’re lucky, I’ll shock you later.”

He chuckled. “Shine your light around. Make sure there’s no one in here and nothing dangerous.” Another light flipped on behind her. “I see a light switch.”

“We’re clear.”

He flipped it on. She scanned the room, then tapped off her light. He still had his gun out.

Not that he’d need it in this empty room.

It was a living area with a kitchenette to the right. An ancient tiny TV set that was probably black and white. Aging couch with threadbare arms. Recliner, in a similar condition. Coffee table. All of it looked like the set of an old nineteen fifties TV show.

“This looks like…” She couldn’t put her finger on it.

“A nuclear shelter.”

“Right. One of those that was built in the fifties during the Cold War. Everyone thought they could stockpile cans and survive the fallout if they just stayed inside long enough.” She’d seen a documentary about one once.

“Under the retirement home.”

“I mean…maybe they didn’t even know it was down here. Maybe they never moved those cabinets, and if someone knew, they forgot all about it.” Kenna shrugged.

And then, the TV flickered to life.

Went black.

Green letters appeared on it. So small that Kenna had to go over to it in order to read what it said.There’s no cure for what you are.

Behind her, metal slid into place.

“The door is blocked. It’s just a sheet of steel.” Fear laced Jax’s tone.

Kenna pulled her hand back and punched the TV screen.

Chapter Ten

“Kenna!” Jax rushed over to grasp her hand.

She pulled it out of the TV screen, barely able to feel the cuts from the shattered glass screen.

“That’s bad. We need a bandage.” He led her to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll look for a cloth or some kind of first aid kit. Don’t get up.”

“I’m not going to.” She didn’t even know why she’d done that.

“Here.” Jax raced back over with a dish towel. “Not the cleanest thing, but better than nothing.”

“I’m fine.” She straightened her fingers, then contracted them. Blood seeped from multiple cuts on the back of her hand.

“Sure. Looks real fine.” He sat on the coffee table, wrapping the towel around her hand. “What did the TV say before you took your frustration out on it?”

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