The Rain (Book 2 - The Constant Fight)

Chapter 28 - Salles de bains et jardins tombes

She marched through the forest. Her eyes set on the path ahead. She tore through the tree line and looked up and down the open road. Something in her gut told her to go left. She took a deep breath and turned, walking down the road.

She'd walked for hours. She had never been alone before. She stopped in the centre of the road, looking over her shoulder to see how far she'd come. The sky was getting darker, she could feel the shadows of the trees creeping closer and closer to her. She took a deep breath of the warm, fresh air and clenched her jaw. She took one last look at the road behind her before turning and continuing ahead.

The forest was long gone now. She was entering a barren town. She could feel the ghosts of the once living pass through her, causing her body to become cold and slightly guilty.

Litter rolled across the ground like tumbleweeds from an old western movie. Bones lined the concrete giving the once grey stone a new dry cream colour. Jane tugged on the straps of her bag for encouragement and waded through the ocean of remains.

They didn't bother her anymore. She had seen, experienced and felt worse than the hard bones hitting off her ankles. She ignored them and trekked through.

Jane pushed the ajar door open, the hinges creaked causing her face to scrunch up. She'd always hated that sound. The house was cold, the windows boarded up with wood and paper. There were sleeping bags and other bedding materials in the living room. There was no sign of a sofa or any type of homely furniture.

Jane stepped into the house and quietly closed the door behind her. Her hand hovered over Courtney's holstered gun but shook her head, letting her hand fall to her side. No one was here. No one had been here for days, weeks even.

Jane lay her bag by the door and made her way up the stairs. The bannister on her left and the comforting orange wallpaper on her right. She had taken the small torch out her bag and turned it on. The hall at the top of the stairs was a dark abyss, she had no idea what was waiting for her.

A circle of pure white light shone on the wall opposite Jane. She stood at the top of the stairs and looked both ways, shining the light down the hall that split into two sides.

She turned left and opened the first door she was faced with. A bedroom. Empty. The duvet of the bed was crumpled and thrown to one side. The mirror showed Jane's reflection, she purposely shone the light anywhere but there. She couldn't bear to see herself.

Another bedroom. A little girl's judging by the pink wallpaper and numerous toys that covered the bed and floor. The air was cold, suggesting that the inhabitants were long gone. Or dead.

She closed the door and made her way to the others across the hall. The boards under the carpet creaked beneath Jane's heavy boots. She reached for the brass handle of a white door, knowing that it was most likely the bathroom.

She struggled to push the door open but when she finally did, the sight took her breath away.

A white, limp hand fell to the ground and caused Jane to jump back out of fright. She gasped for breath, feeling her heart beat a mile a minute. She lowered the torch anxiously, shining the light into the room.

The hand was pale and lifeless. A deep laceration was cut down the wrist vertically. Jane covered her mouth and took a small step forward, reaching out and pushing the door open. As the door swung out, the sound of flies became more evident.

Jane followed the arm with the torch, moving to stand in the doorway and keeping her hand firmly planted on her mouth. She could feel her eyes water due to both the pungent smell and what she knew was inside.