Free Dead Horizon by Carl Hose Page A

able to see anything.
    “Let’s walk,” Brandon said.
    “What about a flashlight. Is there one in the car?”
    “There might be one in the glove box.”
    Jennifer looked in the glove box and didn’t find one. Brandon looked again, just to be sure.
    “You think I’m blind?” she said.
    He ignored her and looked in the trunk. There was no light there either.
    “Glad to see you’re prepared for emergencies,” Jennifer said.
    “Remind me to dump you when we get home,” he replied.
    “ If we get home, I’ll save you the trouble and leave.”
    Brandon resisted the temptation to engage in verbal combat with her. Sparring with her was too taxing. It didn’t matter what he said, it would always be a no-win situation for him.
    “There has to be somewhere we can get help, or at least spend the night and worry about it tomorrow,” he said.
    “You asshole, we’re in the middle of nowhere. I expect to see Andy and Opy any minute. We’re not going to find anything out here.”
    “Do what you want, but I’m at least going to try and find something.”
    He took off walking. Jennifer lit another cigarette. She leaned against the car, took a drag, and nervously studied the dark line of trees. A twig snapped, then something rustled in the trees.
    “Okay, hey, wait . . .” she said. “I’m coming with you.”
    Brandon kept walking. He was finished with her. If she wanted to come along, she could catch up on her own.
    She was out of breath by the time she fell in beside him. “Slow down, will you?”
    He kept his pace. They walked for another fifteen minutes. Jennifer had finally decided to keep her mouth shut, which was a welcome relief for Brandon. The less he heard from her, the better off he would be.
    “There’s a house,” he said
    A time-worn plantation-style house sat on a hill in the distance, situated at the top of a winding drive. It was half shrouded by thick bushes and covered with age-old moss.
    “Looks like a real freak show,” Jennifer complained.
    “Are you kidding? That’s history sitting up there,” Brandon said. “You can always stay out here. I won’t mind a bit.”
    He started up the driveway, his feet crunching on gravel. Thunder boomed overhead and a flash of lightning spider-webbed across the sky.
    Jennifer quickly fell in behind him.
    The house was something out of a horror film, but it would most certainly offer shelter from what looked to be one hell of a storm.
    A sign next to the front porch read: Dead Inn.
    “Comforting,” Jennifer said.
    “I’ll bet it’s a bed and breakfast. I told you we were heading in the right direction. Who’d put a bed and breakfast in the middle of nowhere?”
    Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what this is, it’s still in the middle of nowhere.”
    Brandon started up the stairs. They creaked as his weight settled on each of them. He knocked on the door, then he saw a doorbell and rang that for good measure. An elderly woman answered. A sweet old thing. Somebody’s apple-pie-baking grandma for sure.
    “Hi,” Brandon said. “We noticed your sign. Our car broke down about a mile back, and we were wondering—”
    “You’re looking for a room?” the old woman said, a smile rushing across her wrinkled features.
    “Exactly,” Brandon said.
    “Do come in,” she gushed. “There’s always a vacancy at the Dead Inn, especially for a nice young couple like the two of you. My name’s Mabel, by the way, and you can’t believe how you’re going to enjoy my cookin’.”
    Brandon grinned at Jennifer, more smug than ever. He loved being right because it meant she was wrong. Jennifer waited until the old woman turned away before she stuck her tongue out and flipped Brandon the bird.
    Mabel led them upstairs. The room was decorated with Victorian-era furniture, elegant and beautiful. Jennifer was so impressed that she felt a rush of emotion toward Brandon she hadn’t felt in quite some time. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.