The Hollow (Rose of the Dawn Series Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: The Hollow (Rose of the Dawn Series Book 2)
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16

“That’s where I live.” I should have
asked, not stated it. We stand on what’s left of a lawn on what’s left of the
side of the house. Our neighbors houses, which are close at about forty feet
away, are untouched. The day is grey and while it must be midday at least,
there’s no evidence of anyone inside any of them.

The massive home
I grew up in has been nearly reduced to rubble. There’s broken furniture on the
lawn and the grass is torn up by bulldozer tracks. Windows are broken and
drapes sway out into the wind. Shutters are askew on the face of the house and
paint chips away like flecks of skin after sun exposure.

“What happened?”
I almost can’t get it out.

“I don’t know,”
Pike lets me go and steps ahead of me. I steady myself. I’m going into shock. I
can’t bring myself any closer. My body is numb. The shoulder attached to the
bionic arm is throbbing.

I look around to
pick up some clue, some idea of what might have happened in the time since I’ve
been gone. Seasons have changed, but how many? I must have been gone almost a
year. Or at least a year.

A wide wooden stake
sticks out of the lawn among debris from the house with
Sofie Beloved Family
Pet
written in Dory’s neat, precise handwriting. Evie’s dog.

“What do we do?”
I don’t know how to move forward. I wish we were back along the stream. Under
our tree branches.

Pike holds
something small and flat, about the size of a money chip, in the open doorway
of my house. “It’s safe to go inside. There’s no radioactivity.”

“Radioactive?” I
hold my head in my hands and rub the creases on my forehead. They have gotten
deeper. I’m still stuck on the lawn.

“No. It’s okay.
Anyone inside wouldn’t be harmed.”

“Anyone inside?”
They could be inside!
I look at Pike and run up the crumbling marble
steps to the door. “Mom! Dad!” I yell.

There is no
answer. “Dory!”

No sign of life.
“Evie!”

The alarm isn’t
armed and neither are the voice activated controls. With them off, anyone can
go in.

“Be careful,
Rose.” Pike is up the steps behind me. I run into the foyer.

The door is still
on its hinges, the wood is cracked.

“It’s been
ransacked.” I state the obvious. Pike comes to a halt by my side. “What
happened?” The inside of the house looks worse than the outside, if that’s
possible. Wallpaper hangs in strips off the walls. Whatever furniture isn’t on
the front lawn is toppled or broken. Chairs split like firewood, their
upholstery ripped and torn to shreds. Shards of glass are everywhere either
from the windows or the dozens of mirrors my mother had hanging on the walls.
Rugs are pushed up to the walls, their tassels clumped and stained.

Is that blood?

I run down the
hall past the dining room and to the kitchen. Dirty dishes are piled in the
sink. Food has been liquefied or covered in fuzzy green and black mold.
Something moves in the basin of the sink. I jump back and stifle a scream.

How long has it
been like this?

I race back down
the hall, my heart thuds in my chest, past the dining room and Pike, up the
winding stairs two at a time.

“No one’s here,
Rose,” Pike calls up, shaking his head at the destruction.

Something stops
me in my tracks. Cold. A cool breeze. From above. I look up and there is a hole
in the ceiling big enough for ten people to climb through at once.

“That’s not
true, someone has to be here. They have to be here. They’re hiding. Yes, that’s
it. Hey, where are you guys?” I scream, my voice echoes up and out through the
ceiling. “Mom! Dad!” I run in one direction down the hall and then in the
other. “Mom! Dad! Dory! Dory, where are you? Where are you hiding? Evie, you
can come out now!”

“No one’s here,
Rose.” Pike says a second time. Or is he just on repeat in my head?

I fall to the
ground before his feet. Both hands firmly planted on the ground, my upper arms
tremble under my weight.
When did he get up here?
I cry. He kneels down
and rubs my head. It makes me cry even more.

“Rose, is that
you?”

My head jerks up
to see my sister creep out of a hall closet.

“Dory!” I
scream. I pick myself up and run to her. I grab her in my arms. She hugs me
back and relief washes over me in waves. I lose my breath as I try not to
hyperventilate. The smell of her is overpowering. My eyes burn and start to
tear. There’s so much perfume.

Dory is crying,
too, though not as much. It’s more like a whimper. Her body hardly moves
against my heaving.

She pushes me
back, gently, and takes my face in her hands. She looks different. Her hair is
tangled and dried blood is matted to her forehead. Her face is gaunt, her eyes
hollow and empty. She’s skinny. Way skinnier than before.

And old. She
looks like an old woman and I don’t understand what’s happened. I glance over
at Pike who is nervously looking around. I open my mouth to say something, but
Dory says something first.

“Rose, you have
to go.” Her eyes dart from left to right.

“What Dory? What
are you saying?”

“You are not
safe here, you have to go. Now!”

End
Book 2

 

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