Out of the Dark (Light & Dark #1) Read Free Page B

many windows as I can, and find the same thing: dust-covered furniture and nothing more. Around the back of the house is a large barn area, and my head tells me that it’s a prime monster hideout. I clench my knife tighter and head over to it as quietly as I can, stepping through the overgrown lawn and dried up flowerbeds. I should leave it be, but I’d rather know than not know. I don’t like to be surprised.
    I peer up at the barn, seeing gaps in the slats of wood where the sun can seep in. Sunlight means no monsters , I think as I brush my filthy hair away from my sweaty forehead. My hand tentatively touches the latch on the barn door. It’s rusty and stiff, and will take both hands to push it up, meaning that I have to slip my knife into a back pocket so I can have the use of both hands—something I don’t want to do, not even for a minute. If something is inside there, I need both hands free to fight. Indecision twists my gut, and with a heavy heart I put my knife away. Because if we are to stay here tonight—if we are to be safe—I need to know that this place is definitely free of them .
    With shaking hands, I pull the door open wide, putting all my strength behind it. I could leave whatever might be in here to its own devices, but really, when night falls, if we’re still here, the monsters will hunt us down and slaughter us like pigs. So I have to check everywhere—for Lilly’s sake as well as my own.
    Sunlight explodes into the dark barn as I yank open the heavy door, a creak and a groan sounding as the hinges stiffly move. I wait for the noises of hissing and screaming, for the burning and toasting of graying flesh, but nothing happens. Dust motes floating in the thick, stagnant air are the only signs of movement within. A bubble of laughter tickles the back of my throat as my heart races wildly in my chest, rocketing at a hundred miles an hour. I look inside the barn, safe in my place in the sun at the open doorway. I see nothing of use: rusted old tools, horse saddles, engine parts. I shut the door—latch it, too, just to be sure—and then I pull my knife back out and continue my perimeter search with a more confident step.
    Arriving back at the front of the house, I feel the trace of a smile graces my lips. From every window I looked through, the place seemed untouched by anything human or monster. No one and nothing has resided here for a very long time, it seems. This means a couple of things: food could still be inside, and perhaps even a place to rest for the night. I squeeze away tears, which threaten to fall at the thought of that. Perhaps this place could be safe for a while. It seems almost too good to be true, and I swallow back my happiness, not daring to trust in it yet.
    My eyes fall on our car and fear ignites like a spark from a match: the back passenger door is wide open—Lilly’s door. I run to it and look inside, my heart ravaging my chest cavity. Both Lilly and Mr. Bear are missing. I climb inside and check under the seats, scrambling out the other side of the car.
    “Lilly?” I whisper shout. Panic ripens in my chest like a balloon being overfilled. I want to scream her name from the rooftops, but I can’t. The balloon of panic is filling and filling and threatening to explode.
    I take a steadying breath and look around, trying to calm my raging emotions, panic threatening to overflow from me at any moment. I look at the ground, seeing little footprints at the side of the car. Without a doubt, they are her footprints. They head toward the house, and without a second thought, that’s where I head too. I need to find my little Honeybee. My Lilly.
     

 
    Chapter Three.
    #3. Stay close to your loved ones.
     
    I follow her tiny footprints, trailing them toward the back of the house, and I realize that she had been following my steps. My eyes flit to the barn, seeing the heavy door still closed like I left it. I lose her footsteps somewhere in the overgrown grass, and I blink