Читать книгу Nowhere But Here - Кэти Макгэрри, Katie McGarry - Страница 13

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Emily

IT’S AS IF I’m living the opening segment of an apocalyptic thriller. Young family’s rental car breaks down in parking lot and they’re forced to stay the night in dilapidated motel. Soon, the local townspeople morph into skin-eating demons and the family fights to survive until sunrise.

Maybe our situation isn’t that dire, but it’s close. The past few hours have been the worst sleep of my life. With no rental and no Louisville cab company willing to spare a driver to take us back into the city, we’re stuck here. To make matters worse, Snowflake is limited in overnight accommodations and, short of pitching a tent, this is where we ended up.

The stain on the sheets of the bed I lie in gives me the bugs-walking-on-the-back-of-my-neck creeps and, speaking of bugs, I’m sure there are a hundred million of them nesting in the innards of the mattress. Something continuously moves in the corner of the room, but disappears each time I click on the light.

It doesn’t help that Mom and Dad have been sharing a whispered intense conversation all night. Yes, they had a lot to discuss after the funeral home debacle, but a call from the room phone around eleven caused a new round of conversations. Most of it taking place in the bathroom.

For hours, I stared at the light streaming from the crack under the bathroom door. Occasionally their voices would rise, but they were still too muffled for me to understand. Even when I tiptoed to the door to listen.

I’m impatient for daylight yet the minutes drag into days. It’s 3:03 a.m. and I’ve been parched since two. The thought of interrupting Mom and Dad in the bathroom for a drink of water doesn’t thrill me, so I roll out of bed. In the darkness, I shimmy out of my pj pants and into a pair of shorts. There’s a vending machine a few doors down and a bottle of cold water is calling my name.

Nowhere But Here

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