Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,110

Before I grabbed Victoria’s shoes and took off my own.

Her blood trailed across the deck and down the steps. With the rain pouring down, it was slowly disappearing, turning into a soft red and trickling off the side of the deck.

I hoped she lived; we were just getting started.

I ran across the lawn and jumped the fence, surrounded by trees and overgrown grass. The sirens grew closer and I kept running. They wouldn’t search for me, at least not right now, and when they did, I would be hiding right underneath their noses.

Adrenaline coursed through me so strong I felt unstoppable. I barely felt the ground beneath my feet, or the branches and wet grass.

The cold rain beat down on my face. I smiled and picked up the pace. Not too far ahead I saw the outline of the abandoned factory. My legs started to ache but I pushed forward. The closer I got the more I could see the graffiti on the red brick. A handful of windows were boarded up but most were broken, with shards of glass hanging on to the windowpanes. The factory was fenced in with a lock on the gates.

I made a sharp right, running along the length of the huge building until I finally saw a gray Ford Taurus that had seen better days, carefully hidden from plain sight. I grabbed the key tucked above the tire and popped the trunk. My duffel bag sat where I’d stored it hours ago.

As I quickly changed, I thought of what was going on at the house. I could picture it vividly: Two or three cops were probably there by now. Probably an ambulance, its lights creating a kaleidoscope of colors. The property would be roped with yellow police tape. They’d call for more backup. Victoria had probably arrived at the hospital, if she hadn’t died on the side of the road, that is. A cop would be there shortly to talk to her.

Police would start searching the area. Neighbors would begin to filter out of their houses, curious to see what was going on. Word would slowly spread and by tomorrow afternoon, reporters, journalists, camera crews, and photographers would be camped outside the house. The beautiful Bellamy Road home would have the attention it deserves.

I smiled to myself as I tossed my bloodied clothes in the duffel bag and put it back into the trunk.

The car door slammed behind me. The engine came to life and I pulled out onto the road. This, out of everything, was the crucial moment. I had to blend in—look like I was an innocent resident just minding his own business.

Reflexively, my hands tightened on the wheel. My eyes kept flicking between the road and the rearview mirror for anything suspicious. But there was nothing. The drive went smoothly and soon I was driving past Fairfax. Very few lights were on inside. The parking lot was practically empty, save for the nurses working the night shift, their cars all parked next to one another.

A mile later I slowed down and made a right onto a gravel road.

Water was starting to fill the potholes that peppered the uneven road. Trees flanked me on both sides and all too quickly the gravel gave way to plain dirt, with only a strip of dirty tire tracks shining in front of me. I’d been on this path so many times I turned the lights off. It was a jarring drive; the potholes were getting deeper by the second and the trees became farther apart before they gave way to reveal a small cabin. It was buried in the middle of the forest and no one knew about it.

I loved it that way. It was my oasis.

My home.

A bolt of lightning flashed, momentarily revealing the porch in front of me. Alice stood there, her arms crossed over her chest, back hunched as if she were ready to fold in on herself.

The second I got out of the car she ran down the steps. “Where have you been?”

“Where do you think I was?” I said over my shoulder and grabbed the duffel bag from the trunk.

Next to the cabin was a dinky shed that looked one wind gust away from collapsing. I walked toward it. Alice followed behind me. Her nervous energy lingered all around her. If she was going to be like this all night she could just leave right now. She’d only mess things up for me.

“It shouldn’t have taken this long,” she fretted.

“Plan