Page 22 of Cuddling Sucks in Coffins
A sob welled in my throat, but I didn’t have time for a nice mental breakdown. I stared down at the officer, who was thankfully still, and then ripped my Gumby T-shirt off. No way I could just walk out of here, but I would sure as fuck try. Maybe it wasn’t the cell dampening my slayer powers but the whole police station. I ripped the fabric from the bottom hem of my shirt and then plugged my ears with it so I could hear myself over the thundering static. I just wished I could plug my eyes too. Shadows dripped off the walls and contorted the long hallway of cells into one long hellscape. A hellscape I’d have to pass through to get out of here.
After I ridded myself of my rank, wet jeans, I quickly undid the officer’s uniform and his Kevlar vest and put them on.
“Eddie! Jacek! Sawyer!” I shouted.
If it was the police station affecting my powers, maybe they couldn’t sense me. But if there was ever a time where I needed their help, it was right now.
With the officer’s keys biting into my palm and his uniform swallowing my frame, I strode down the long hallway. Some of the cells I passed appeared empty, except for the shadows swarming into shapeless beasts. They lunged and rattled the bars so hard I thought the metal would snap. Melted humans lurked in other cells, their faces warped into murderous rage. They reached through the bars and tried to snatch at me. Some spat. Others threw shivs and broken glass that sliced at my bare forearms and face.
“I will fuck your cunt until you are dead,” one of them growled, and it sounded as ancient and rustic as Paul. “Then I will fuck you again, you hear me?”
Even through my stuffed ears and ringing static, I could hear his voice as clearly as if I’d said it myself.
“Kill. Kill,” another one chanted.
“—cry. You’ll cry for your mommy when I’m done with you.”
No. No, there would be no crying. None of this was real. This was Paul, trying to break me so he could kill me easier.
I fisted my hands at my sides, chomping down on my back teeth, as I shot for the elevator. Once inside, I jammed the black skull key into the panel, then smashed my finger into the close doors button to silence those threats of violence against me for good.
Too bad it didn’t last.
As soon as the doors opened again, a red laser dot swept the inside of the elevator. I ducked to the floor just as an explosion of bullets battered the wall behind me.
When the gunfire went silent, the static roared even louder. My heart pummeled the floor beneath my ribs. Cold sweat clung to the back of my neck. I didn’t dare breathe.
Then a voice rose up above the static and hissed, “She’s here.”
It was there on the floor of the elevator, more frightened than I’d ever been, that I realized what was happening. Yes, this was Paul trying to break me, but every one of the prisoners downstairs and the hissing voices had sounded just like him—like broken bones rubbing against dead leaves. It was as if the stroll he’d taken had been througheveryone,loud enough that I could hear the static. He was pulling the strings of everyone here and was directing them to take me out. The whole police station. No, not just the police station.Allof Podunk City since everyone’s doors had crashed open. That had to have been him, demanding entrance so he could stroll on in on that not-so-lovely night.
That realization had only taken a second.
Spying a doorway on my right, I chucked the keys in my fist to the left. They clanked against something metal several feet away, providing the distraction I needed. Hopefully.
Gunfire erupted in the direction of the keys. I surged to my feet and flew to the doorway. Once inside the room, I shut the door and then ducked to all-fours, navigating the dark room by touch alone. Outside, glass exploded, blinking out the light through the frosted glass window in the door. Then the gunfire stopped.
I likely had seconds before they found me.
If I had luck on my side, I would’ve found myself inside a weapon storage room or the evidence room where my stakes were surely kept. If I had luck on my side, I wouldn’t be in this damn situation to begin with.
Just as I thought, no such luck. I was in an office with metal chairs and a wooden desk, the drawers of which held files, paper clips, pens, and pencils. I took a handful of pencils since they were close to stakes. Though they would do jack against a gun, they were better than nothing.
I crawled across the tile floor and felt my way along the wall, hoping for a second exit. In the corner of my eye, a shadow moved beyond the window in the door. Someone was coming.
My breaths grew ragged. My movements jerky and frantic, I slid my fingers along the wall. They slid into a dip. A door! The doorknob on the one behind me began to turn. I stopped breathing. My knuckles hit a doorknob, and I shoved my way through and closed the door within the span of three wild heartbeats.
No time to waste. I shot across the dark room to where I thought the door to the hallway should be. Once I fumbled my way through, I sprinted across to the maze of cubicles and chose a random one to squat in so I could catch my bearings. Pushing my lips together to keep myself quiet, I stretched my neck to see over the three-foot-high barrier that separated this cubicle from the next one. There, about fifty feet away, was the exit sign in bright, beautiful colors. So close and yet so far. I had no idea how many people were after me in here, but if I could make it out, then maybe my slayer powers would work again. Strength, speed, healing—all good powers to have.
Fifty feet.
I slinked out of the cubicle and started forward.
At the first cross-section of pathways I came to, a figure moved just to my left. I froze, my body coiling to spring and fight or spring and run. It was a man from the shape of him, walking away, his black uniform writhing in the creeping darkness as if it contained nothing but snakes. I crossed behind him on silent feet to the next section of cubicles.
Forty feet.
Up ahead, someone rounded the corner, into the pathway I was headed down. I dove left behind a cubicle wall and pressed my back against it, biting down hard on my tongue. Had he seen me?
