Chapter 5 - Room 14
I left the driver’s side door of my car wide open. I didn't care. I stumbled through the snow drifts, falling to my knees once on the hidden ice before scrambling back up.
I ran to Emma’s car. The windshield was frosted solid. I cupped my gloved hands against the driver’s side glass, peering into the dim interior. It was completely empty. Her small purse was gone, but her winter boots—the heavy ones I had promised to clean and waterproof for her weeks ago—were sitting in the passenger footwell.
She was inside the motel.
The motel office was dark, a cardboard sign taped inside the window: Manager in Apt 1. Ring buzzer for keys.
I ignored the office entirely and sprinted down the exterior walkway of the single-story building. The doors were weathered, sea-beaten green wood with peeling brass numbers. Room 10... Room 11... Room 12...
Outside Room 14, I saw a pair of faint, snow-covered footprints leading up to the threshold, nearly filled in by the morning storm.
I grabbed the brass doorknob and rattled it. Locked.
""Emma!"" I screamed, slamming both fists against the heavy wood. ""Emma, please! It's Julian! Open the door!""
No answer. Only the roar of the freezing ocean winds tearing through the eaves of the roof.
""Emma, I know you're in there! Please, sweetheart, open the door! I have the medical papers from St. Jude’s! I know about the preeclampsia! Please let me help you!""
Still, absolute silence from within. Not a footstep. Not a whisper.
A primal, suffocating terror took over every rational thought in my brain. I stepped back two paces onto the icy concrete walkway, lowered my right shoulder, and threw my entire body weight against the door frame right beside the lock.
CRACK.
The old wooden jamb splintered, but the deadbolt held.
Pain shot through my collarbone, but I didn't care. I kicked the door right next to the brass handle with everything I had. The wood gave way with a deafening screech, and the door flew inward, bouncing hard against the interior wall.
A gust of freezing draft swept into the room behind me.
The room was freezing cold. The baseboard heater was silent, dead from the storm’s power outage. The only illumination came from the gray daylight filtering through the thin lace curtains facing the ocean.
""Emma?"" I called out, my voice trembling uncontrollably.
Then I saw her.
She was lying on her side on the worn, faded floral bedspread, curled into a tight defensive ball. She was still wearing her heavy winter coat, her woolen scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. Her eyes were closed, her face terrifyingly flushed with an unnatural, feverish red, while her lips were pale and cracked.
""Emma!""
I fell to my knees beside the bed, stripping off my gloves and pressing my palms against her cheeks. Her skin was burning hot, radiating a terrifying, unnatural fever, yet her whole body was shivering in violent, rhythmic tremors.
""Emma... look at me. Please, baby, open your eyes,"" I begged, hot tears streaming down my face, dripping onto her woolen collar.
May you like
Her eyelashes fluttered weakly. She took a shallow, ragged breath, her brow furrowing in confusion and pain. Slowly, her hazel eyes cracked open, dull and unfocused.
""Julian...?"" she whispered, her voice barely a dry raspy wheeze. ""My head... it hurts so bad... I can't... I can't see the light...""
