Page 11 of Positively Pricked
I gave a quiet sigh.And then, there was one.
My legs were cramped, and my hands felt like ice cubes. Desperately, I waited for the sounds of additional footsteps –Zane'sfootsteps, heading away from the van.
But I heard nothing.
And the longer I waited, the more I started to doubt myself. Maybe he'd already wandered off. After all, Bob's departure hadn't been terribly quiet. For all I knew, Zane had left at the exact same time. Maybe, he was already back inside the house, or wherever jerks went when they weren't spreading their misery.
And yet, I still waited.
Finally, when I couldn't stand it another moment, I crawled silently toward the back cargo doors and listened.
Nothing.
Slowly, I reached up and lifted the nearest door-handle. Praying for the best, I gave the door a gentle push. It swung outward maybe half a foot before it stopped, bumping into something on the other side.
I gave a little gasp.
No. Not something. Someone.
Oh, no.
