The Typhon Project

Chapter Twenty-Five: Terror by Candlelight

 Before I closed the hatch to the solar flare shelter and descended into absolute darkness, I searched for a light source. I found a couple of flashlights that still worked, a box of candles, a book of matches, and a few cans of soup. The stockpile wouldn't last more than a couple of days. I'd have to move on after that. 

Move on to where?

A burning sensation flooded my chest. I couldn't think about that right now. All that mattered was that I'd escaped The Farm. But what about Dean? What would they do to him? Would they imprison him in the psychiatric ward? No, no they couldn't. 

I stared at the still-open hatch door. Should I go back for him?

He could say that I snuck out while he was sleeping. He was genius. I had to believe he'd come up with something, that he wouldn't end up catatonic at that hospital.

I lit a candle and set the matches, other candles, and flashlights on a tiny metal table beside the cot where I could easily find them if this one went out while I was sleeping. With a deep breath, I cranked the door closed and engaged the lock. A metallic clang echoed around me.

The candle flickered and cast ominous shadows on the concrete walls. My stomach tightened. I was on my own. Alone. The finality of what I'd done hit me, and my heart rate spiked. No, I was not going to be afraid. If I starved out here, it was better than feasting at The Farm.

I lay down on the cot. Dust motes clouded my vision and a musty scent irritated my nose. Though beyond exhausted, I couldn't fall asleep. The springs poked me in the back. I rolled over and faced the wall, then rolled back again. I watched the candle burn; the dancing flame mesmerized me and then lulled me to sleep.

Dr. Rail's blood red nails dig into my scaly flesh. Blood pools around them, then drips down my arm.

I gasped and bolted upright on the cot. Thick blackness surrounded me. Images of Dr. Rail formed in the darkness. I scrabbled for the matches and candle. Holding my breath, my hands trembled as I struck the match once, twice, three times. Finally, a spark and a flame caught and illuminated the small room. I held out the tiny light, searching each corner for Dr. Rail, for soldiers. 

The room was empty.

I released my breath, lit a candle, and placed it on the bedside table. I rubbed my arm where I could've sworn Dr. Rail's claws were really digging into me. Though my skin was perfect,  the memory of the pain lingered. 

I ran my fingers through my sweat-moistened hair. Though still tired, I didn't want to close my eyes again. The nightmare felt only a whisper away.

Footfalls thudded above me. My heart leapt. Could it be Jace? I went to the hatch and pressed my ear to the door. Voices, muffled by the thick metal. Male voices, several of them. They shouted back and forth to each other. 

And then, I heard a name that sent adrenaline surging through my veins.

"Leah Alexander." 

They called my name over and over. How did they find me? 

I checked the lock to ensure it was engaged. How long would it take them to find the shelter I'd locked myself inside? I couldn't leave. I'd have to pass them to get out of the house. I was trapped down here, sealed in my own tomb. 

I blew out the candle, crawled under the cot, and covered my ears. Maybe if they looked inside they wouldn't see me and think the room was empty. It was my only hope. If they found me, I'd spend my life drooling in front of that hospital TV. I stared ant the cot springs above me.

In the cool, damp darkness, I scooted against the wall and curled myself into a tight ball. Silent, terrifying moments passed. 

A breeze of cooler air swept over me. The room lit in dim light. Footsteps. My pulse pounded in my ears. I controlled my breathing, forcing shallow silent breaths. All I could do was stay still and hope they didn't look under the cot.