Finding the side door to the garage locked, she peered in the window at the cars parked inside, and knocked. Across the garage, someone’s head bobbed in a brightly lit white room, barely visible over the town car. The door swung wide. Whoever opened it wasn’t Mandrake. This person was too short to see their face over the cars. Alexis knocked again, watching the interior of the garage.
The person’s shadow, stretching in front of the last car, swayed and stumbled, then stopped moving. Alexis glanced away from the door, hoping Greg or Mason were around, but they weren’t. Franticly shaking the doorknob, she returned her gaze to the window, and the person lying on the floor behind the car with an arm extending from the front tire. The hand twitched, then flattened on the smooth concrete surface to bear the person’s weight. The other hand appeared from behind the tire, and pressed firmly, in front of the other, on the floor.
In a few long minutes, the top of a head jerked into view appearing to have jutted from the end of the car’s bumper. The dark matted hair hung around the face, obscuring Alexis from identifying who it was. A hand reached up, pressing against the fender. Slowly, the person stood wobbly against the car with hair covering the face.
Moments passed with the long-haired person in a hospital gown leaning against the car without moving. Then the free hand twitched toward the face. Spasms shook the hand as it ineptly tried to move the hair away. Alexis peered in the window, shielding the morning sun from her eyes as she watched the staccato movements, but still, she couldn’t make out who it was inside. The person ambled toward the door, closer and closer. Ten feet from the door, a terrific shriek echoed around Alexis.
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