Page 25 of Bear In A Bookstore
“You got this, Kora.” She opened her eyes, settled her gaze on the door and, still breathing hard, managed to move from around the desk. Her fingers clenched and relaxed on repeat as she shuffled to the door, listening for any sound.
Gripping the handle, heart beating wildly, she rolled her shoulders. This felt all too familiar. Hearing strange sounds. Reaching for the doorhandle. Opening it . . .
Hands grabbing her, pushing her, covering her mouth. Furniture toppling. Fingernails scratching at her arms, hot breath against her face. A gunshot . . .
Kora closed her eyes as sweat beaded from her hairline. Her knees wobbled as energy squeezed out of her muscles. A slow vortex opened from beneath her feet and began wrapping around her, pulling her in, consuming her.
Breathe. Stay calm.
Oh God, okay. She could do this. Shecould. What had happened in L.A. wasn’t going to happen here. Not in a town like this. She was safe here. Safe. Even as she repeated the words that were supposed to change the course of a panic attack, her mind conjured scenarios about what was on the other side of the door. So many things could hurt her. So many things could go wrong.
Her pulse was so fast, too fast, making her lightheaded. Sweat beaded on her hairline. She had to sit down. She had torun,but her legs were paralyzed.
She’d give anything to have Desi beside her right now. But she couldn’t rely on others to make her feel safe. She needed to feel in control of herself, to be strong enough to feel safe alone, and feel confident that she could handle whatever came her way.
Bad, bad, bad, something bad was going to happen if she opened that door. She found the strength to wipe her palms on her thighs and rub her hands vigorously on her jeans. The movement helped her refocus. She needed to trick her brain, to pull a fast one on the anxiety while it wasn’t looking. The flashlight illuminated with a burst of light as she clicked the button and yanked open the door. Bracing herself, she panted so hard her head spun. Something was going to rush her, grab her, get her.
Nothing.
See? It’s okay. It’s all good.
Her breath whistled through the nose. One breath, two, three, until her chest finally slowed, and the vortex shrunk into a tiny, manageable thing. Focusing on the sounds that had drawn her in the first place, she noticed they didn’t seem to be coming from the base of the stairs, but rather, somewhere farther away and more muffled.
Cautiously, she descended each step. The open lower level was one big room, completely empty so nothing could hide and dart out at her. The scratching became louder to her right, behind the wall that led to the secret room.
She placed a palm to the wall over the movable panel. Something vibrated from the other side. Pulling back with a gasp, she did a little heebie-jeebies dance and put a fist to her mouth. Maybe it was a bird or something. It seemed like the flutter of wings.
How would a bird get down here, Kora?Geez.
Angry with herself and stressed over the whole thing, she pulled back the panel and braced herself again. Monsters, serial killers, murderous clowns.
Nothing happened. She put a hand over her mouth in relief.
Shinning the flashlight into the room, she startled and took a step back, but it was too late. A group of tiny eyes shone back at her, followed by the chaotic swish of wings. Little bodies flew around her head, leathery wings brushing against her hair as a small cauldron of bats burst out of the secret room.
Kora screamed and crouched, covering her head with her arms.
The rush of wings faded. She realized with horror that they must have flown up the stairs and into the main part of the bookstore.
“Oh no. No, no, no!”
Just then, a booming knock sounded from inside the room. She spun, the flashlight toppling to the ground where it hit with a smack. The air around her went still save for the rush of her pulse in her ears.
Then, “Kora?”
She froze. Was she panicking to the point of hearing voices? Hallucinations meant she was really out of her mind—
“Kora, Kora!”
The knocking beat steadily from inside the secret room. Barely able to control her breathing, she grappled for the flashlight and stood. She knew that voice.
“Desi?” No. Way. She followed the knocking. “Desi, what are you—”
“I’m in here.” His voice sounded muffled. “There must be a trap door or something.”
Heading toward his voice, she paused outside a small closet door and yanked it open, gripping the flashlight with both hands just in case.
There, on the floor near the far corner, was a misplaced section of rotten wooden floor planking. It had been ripped up and haphazardly tossed aside. Kora bent to inspect it and found a trap door. It was slightly warped, and the edge was stuck beneath a section of the remaining floor.
