𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 . GHOSTS

0] DEAD GIRL WALKING

PROLOGUE

'DEAD GIRL WALKING'

She woke in the forest.

There was nothing to suggest anything untoward had happened at the rehearsal - not that she remembered, anyway - and yet somehow she was here. In the woods. Alone.

Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she gingerly pressed the palm of the other into the blanket of leaves beneath her and pushed herself up. It took a moment for her vision to focus before she was able to begin attempting to figure out where the hell she had ended up. The trees grew tightly enough together that she couldn't see how far she was from the house. And Christ, it was almost dark. The setting sun glowed faintly through the evergreen canopy towering above her head. Just how long had she been here? Come to think of it, why was she here?

Struggling to her feet, she tried her best to listen for the sounds of the stage crew. The whole grounds had been crawling with people and vehicles for the better part of the last two days, making enough of a racket that a neighbour had even turned up at one point to spy on the proceedings. She remembered the look on Alison's face as he'd walked away, the sharp glare that formed in her eyes, directed at his retreating back.

Alison. Alison might know something. The house's unlikely owner had been nothing but a gem since the crew had arrived, and would definitely be able to help her. Which meant she had to get back to the house, and quickly before the day succumbed to darkness and abandoned her out here in the cold for the night. Who knows what roamed the grounds, after all? She was pretty certain she'd rather not find out.

Hoping there might be some kind of sign hovering around telling her which path to take, she stilled and looked, listened. There. The sound of an engine coming from directly behind her. Which must mean the house was somewhere up ahead - if the road was at her back then she needed to be heading forwards.

With her sense of surroundings renewed, she dragged in a deep breath and began to walk. It had grown colder since the morning, and her leather jacket was suddenly nowhere near as warm as she'd expected it to be. Shoving her hands into her pockets in the hope of halting her fingers from turning into icicles, she gasped suddenly when she realised what they contained. Her phone, which would have the date and the time. Excitedly she fished it from the fabric, pressing the unlock button only to realise a shallow crack ran straight through its centre. The screen still worked though, at least. But something wasn't right - the time still said eleven thirty three am. Which was around when the final rehearsal took place.

"Shit." She breathed into the darkness. What the hell happened during that rehearsal? Waking up in the woods with a broken phone sounded more like the outcome of one of the parties back at university than that of a stage job.

And she still couldn't remember actually recording the final performance. In fact, if she was still wearing her jacket then it might have never happened at all. Had she even made it to makeup?

Suddenly imbued with desperation to find out the exact turn of events - and whether or not some rogue incident had reduced her career to ashes - she picked up the pace. Lights had flared to life up ahead, perhaps the fountain on the drive was finally acting as a beacon to light her way.

Sighing with relief, she pushed through the last of the trees and emerged into the field fronting the house. Almost at once, her heart seemed to stop. The makeshift stage they'd transported from London was still standing on the front lawn, but the crew vans and the black clad figures that had scurried about the place like ants all morning were nowhere in sight. Had they just abandoned her here?