Page 9 of Journey To Sunrise

No fire that I’d ever covered had been worse than this moment.

Please God, let her be okay.

My training kicked in, and I moved forward, my eyes checking every nook and cranny as I headed into the main area of the house. I saw an open area connecting the living room, kitchen, and dining room. The dining room table was overflowing with envelopes that I soon realized was unopened mail. The kitchen looked like a frat party kegger had taken place, with all the red plastic Solo cups littered about.

“Chloe!” I roared.

That was when I saw them—bloody footprints marring the creamy beige tiles in the kitchen. I sped up. The footprints were more pronounced on the carpet down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

I slammed open the first bedroom door. It was being used as an office, and it was empty except for the plates and cups strewn about the desk.

I backed out.

“Answer me, Chloe Rose!”

I pushed open the next door and winced when I saw the smashed mirror and broken glass on the floor of the bathroom. There was a lot of blood on the floor, and it hopefully explained where the bloody footprints originated. I stepped in farther and looked in the bathtub. No Chloe. I let out a sigh of relief.

I came to the last door. It was ajar and I pushed it open. At first, I didn’t think there was anything in the bed. The sheets and blankets were tangled and I didn’t notice her slight form amongst the covers. Then I saw strands of her chocolate-brown hair peeking above the white sheet and resting on one of the pillows, but still no face.

I rushed into the room and stood over the bed. She was literally under the covers. Was she hiding?

“Chloe?” I kept my voice to a medium roar. My level of worry wouldn’t allow me to be any softer.

The blankets jerked.

Then nothing.

The fear that had been clawing at me calmed a little, and I was finally able to take in a full breath. I yanked the covers back from her head. Owlish brown eyes blinked up at me, there was no focus, no response.

“Chloe?”

Her eyes shifted and I could now tell she was looking at me. Frown lines formed between her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, then she shut it.

“Say something,” I demanded.

“Am I dreaming?” Her voice sounded like she’d been gargling with gravel.

“No dream.” I studied her face. She looked like she’d been sick for a long time. She was pale and gaunt. Her lips were chapped, and her hair was a tangled mess.

“Zarek? It’s really you?” She tried to push her hand out from underneath the covers. I helped her get free. When she did, she reached up to touch my face. I cupped her palm to my cheek.

“It’s me, Cupcake. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Her eyes looked away from mine. She stared at the ceiling and asked, “How’d you get in?”

“I broke in.”

“You did what?”

That got her attention, I thought with satisfaction. She pushed at the sheet and blanket, struggling to sit up. I immediately bent down and put my arm around her, helping her into a sitting position. I picked up the two pillows on the floor and put them behind her back.

“There, is that better?” I asked.

She nodded her head.

“Did Trenda and Zoe help you break in?”

“Zoe’s outside. I told her to wait. This is between the two of us.”